Category Archives: WRITER’S PROMPT

Do Not Enter…

This poem comes from a prompt of Jill Badonsky.    “Write to expose those things that need light to be shed upon them.”

What are those place within and around that have a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on them?


It wasn’t hard to push at that mind space

The sign, Do Not Enter, was a lazy drape over the frontal lobe

Almost like it was ready to slip right out my open mouth

With a sudden blurt, an uninhibited want to speak the hidden

How many times had it been readjusted perfectly to ward that off?


The mind was churning with want to expose

The  heart voice hoped to know better of it

The bubble and brew within the cranial housing

couldn’t hold the thoughts old and hungry for release

Readjusting the signs yet again hoping no one would knock


Hoping that what needed to fly out into the open

could be contained

a little longer,

a little longer

just a little longer.


Clarity’s want gave one hard pound on the bony surface

Took hold of that Do Not Enter sagging there

Flipped it off like a spider on a shoulder

Out rolled the hurt, the frustration,

The holding on for dear life.


It wasn’t meant to hurt the beloved traveling The Path

Only to speak to what drives the hurt

What lays waste to  dreams

What shudders and boils old fear

And here we are blistered, peeling pain off


Never was the want of clarity so unclear

There is no re-hanging the Do Not Enter

There is no taking back what needed saying

The sign fell and seethes in the pot of life’s letting go

Adding single drops of forgiveness to get it right again

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Filed under BETRAYAL, jill badonsky prompt, Love's lament, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPT, Ypsilanti Poet

Prompt, The Cruelest Month/s

Prompt from    The cruelest month.



Every month has a way of strapping on bad weather

that puts you over its’ knee and spanks you like a child.

Like it was you that did the wrong thing;

a smart ass remark about lightening,

you made a bad snowman,

you pluck a flower from a neighbor’s yard,

you peed in the community pool.

You were extra naughty and now a storm is brewing

Like a big ass one that’s going to dump as much

cruelty and destruction as it can all over your bad decisions.

Nature wins and don’t you forget that.

Mountains of snow fall, the spiral destruction of

a tornado that takes your town down,

The flood that takes away your bicycle

or maybe your little sister, or puppy.

Your car is upside down in a snow bank,

The earth cracked open and ate the road home.

And all you did was not recycle, or maybe

you threw your car trash out the window.

Heaven forbid you put the wrong thing

down the toilet and now…

Take the blame, take the punishment

that the high drifts of winter’s sharing,

or the deluge of Springs floods,

not to forget how those Summer months

burn and leave the cancer of it on your flesh,

And then the Autumn comes all spicy

and ready for harvest and damn if she/he

doesn’t forget to give back like you thought she would.

Harvest those weeds you naughty person.

Starve like you deserve.

Every month has its cruel giving because

we’re all stripping the Earth and taking

without giving back, and peeing in the water

we swim in or worse drink.

Cutting away forests, fracking the land,

Spreading out our waste in every corner

of the world cause we’re busy using resources up.

And you wonder why nature straps on a good

storm and spanks the bejesus outta us.

Cruelty?  I call it “Come on People, wake UP”

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Filed under Day Five., EARTH CHANGES, MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Uncategorized, WRITER'S PROMPT


This is from a prompt I was invited to do via my Creativity Coach teacher, Jill Badonsky.

We were to pick a quote from this website that gathers many quotes, and select the last five or so words at the end of the quote.

Steven and I may not agree on how to come to ‘a blank page’, and then again, is there really a wrong way?    How might you come to a ‘blank page’?SHadow on Dunes, California

“you must not come lightly to the blank page.”  Steven King


Come lightly to the blank page

Take in the sense of emptiness

The thrill of possibilities.

The taste of what wonder is on the tip

of your pen, waiting.


Come lightly to the blank page

Give quiet pause to the hungry story

That yearns for the telling.

Tease it like you would a lover

Feeling passion’s aching


Come lightly to the blank page

Let the bright light of empty spaciousness

Find that sacred resurrection.

Lay down one word at time

Make generous your heart’s longing


Come lightly to the blank page


copy rights… jeanne adwani

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, a sacred life, BE HERE NOW, Geezer Girl, Jeanne Beauchamp, MICHIGAN POET, The soul knows, Uncategorized, WRITER'S PROMPT

Haiku… The Calling… day 7 of NaPoWriMo

Wisconsin sky

Call came from the sky

Was heard in the everywhere

It filled us up blue


No clouds anywhere

Blue is a cool smooth talker

One cloud would have helped


Rain comes tomorrow

Waiting feels like forever

Close eyes keep breathing

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Filed under A pligrams journey, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, WRITER'S PROMPT

KINDNESS… a pantoum

There is no ponder to an act of kindness

Kindness comes as it will like breathing

It is the only pathway to peace and love

A lay down of all that holds us to fear and resistance


Kindness comes as it will like breathing

There is never a time it doesn’t caress the heart

A lay down of all that holds us to fear and resistance

Choices lead to consequences


There is never a time it doesn’t caress the heart

Fear stains the heart’s beat with certain death

Choices lead to consequences

Sequences, like bad habits need adjusting


Fear stains the heart’s beat with certain death

In your defenselessness your safety lies

Sequences, like bad habits need adjusting

How will you adjust to Kindness’s call?


In your defenselessness your safety lies

It is the only pathway to peace and love

How will you adjust to Kindness’s call?

There is no ponder to an act of kindness



This a summer of…

Wholy Grail.

Wholy Grail.

This is a summer of gathering

letting go, remembering,

moving, finding a new groove


This is summer of fear found

fear release, surrendering.

making space for new possibilities


This is a summer of edges

pushed, hanging on for dear life.

standing in the Center.


This is a summer of startled resistance

Deepening into the forever after of

when Oneness calls to the let it all go


This is a summer when angst

outgrew herself for peaceful resolution

On fresh pages freed for a new story


This is a summer when what needed 

to get together got to together in the 

seamless love given by others.


This is a summer of gratitudes fruition

When to give is to receive and to

receive fills the giving cup


This is a summer when the heart prism 

finds the clarity in the crystal

Catching all light in her opening


This is a summer still happening

in the calm of moments accepted 

In the trust of how the Infinite unfolds




Filed under HAPPINESS, JOY, michigan, SUMMER, the craft of writing., TRUTH, WRITER'S PROMPT, YPSILANTI


day 24..  napowrimo.

This poem comes from my Creativity Coach, Jill Badonsky.  She asked; “Where do your ideas come for writing.”  Somewhere in her dialogue she mentioned Dr. Seuss.  That’s where this all took me and now here it is.  Prompts are funny thing.

Feeling Seuss-ish



Sometimes it’s out the window that they come

Sometimes it comes from feeling gloom

Sometimes it comes because they come

There’s nothing really gloom in

the all around of all the fun


That font wants a way and place to romp

That font out my brain those words do jump

That font goes just as they want to clump

They dump and clump when I pull them

from that lump


Oh Goodness me how it all does flow

Oh goodness me when I let all those words go

Oh goodness me the words arrow from my bow

How so all those words go when I’m on

that wordy roll


So there’s wonder from whence it all comes

So there’s wonder in the fontin’ sum

So there’s wonder how the hell I gets it done

It’s done cause it must get done else die

with no fontin’ fun


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