W3 Prompt #33: Wea’ve Written Weekly

Intro

Dear friends,

Welcome to our W3 Poetry Prompt, which goes live on Wednesdays at The Skeptic’s Kaddish.

You may click here for a fuller explanation of W3; but here’s the ‘tldr’ version:

Part I

The main ingredient of W3 is a weekly poem written by a Poet of the Week (PoW), which participants respond to in verse.

Part II

The second ingredient is a writing guideline (or two) provided by the PoW. Guidelines may include, but are not limited to: word counts, poetic forms, inclusion of specific words, and use of particular poetic devices.

Part III

After four days, when the prompt closes, the PoW shall select one participant’s poem as the W3 prompt for the following week, and its author becomes the next PoW.

Simple enough, right?


Okie dokie ~ Let’s do this thing!

I. The prompt poem:

‘Dec. 2, 1979, or: Jun. 24, 1999’, a set of ‘lanternes’ by ben Alexander (yours truly!)

/ˈdiː/
/ˈɛn/ /ˈeɪ/
same parents
same ancestors
roots
first
boy, named
for much loved
great-grandfather
love
of
old age
pregnancy
unexpected
wow
no
other
brothers or
sisters; just we
two
words
writing
tradition
world politics
me
code
rap beats
cars, fashion
photography
you
years
oceans
interests
separate us,
but

II. My prompt guidelines

  • Write a series of at least five atom” tercets on the theme of “children” or “childhood”

Atom?

  • Tercet = three line stanza;
  • Letters per line: 5-7-5;
  • No punctuation; no capitalization (like haiku).

III. Submit: Click on ‘Mr. Linky’ below

In order to participate and share a poem, open up this blog post, outside of the WordPress reader. At the bottom, just below these words, you will see a small rectangular graphic with the words ‘Mr Linky’. Click on that to submit.

Submissions are open for 4 days, until Sunday, December 18, 10:00 AM (GMT+3)


Last week’s W3 poem

This week’s W3 prompt poem (above), composed by little ol’ me, was written in response to last week’s W3 prompt poem, which Britta wrote:

‘The theory of everything’ by Britta Benson

Sourdough.
Learn to wait. Knead. Wait.
Rest, a must,
intrinsic.
Pleasure, no slapdash rush. Wait.
Muscle up, breathe, wait.

I know bread.
My baker’s son dad
taught me well.
When to do,
when not to. What’s important:
Home can’t be hurried.

I knead bread,
roll the dough, get in.
Smell of rye,
lumps and bumps,
warm hands, wrath of soul, love, hate,
all baked into one.

I need bread,
staple, reminder
of time, rules,
rest, patience.
Life in a ball. Simple. Slow.
Proofing sourdough.

55 thoughts on “W3 Prompt #33: Wea’ve Written Weekly”

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