#Resist - Live



#Resist - Live

25 notes

Book 10

April 17, 2014

Write a poem where you describe something using 3 of the 5 senses


This old musty textbook,

tattered by the wear of decades of enduring apathy.

Nodding heads, and glazed eyes,

uncompromisingly sullen while sheet pigments fade.

$#@! and F%^& reside amongst allegorical laments;

doused in multiple shades of ink and fine-tipped marker.


This musty old textbook?

Leaving a befouled taste in mouths of adolescent learners;

enticing more explicit social diatribe

than intellectual commentary.

An exposed spine and triangular—bent—pages

folded in hasty quest for indexed answers

illuminated under ultraviolet industrial flickers.


This musty old textbook…

The Greatest: Lies Ever Told (Subject to Updates)

April 16, 2014

Write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie.


For me, up is down

circles end,

and square is round.

I am the greatest, pound for pound.

I wrestled the ocean once,

and won when it ran.

I made the sun set, when it dared give me tan.

Air lingers gingerly, knowing it’s place;

last time it got out of line, I punched it in the face.

There’s a reason grass is green; me.

I decided on the shade.

And rocks have been stiff since I told them “Behave.”


Inspired by Muhammad Ali

Wissa’s Rima

April 15, 2014

Write a poem in terza rima. I broke the last line’s rhyme rule.


Could I count the smiles you bring?

And how many ways

you’ve made my heart sing?


If I could add up all the many days

then I could maybe help you truly see

the effect your radiant beams play.


Tenderness in such degree,

I should count the costs,

alas you’ve given it all freely.


Even though I’m still the boss

you know just what to do

to make this cold world just a little soft,


At the end of the day, that’s why I love you.


Music Box

April 13, 2014

Write a poem that contains at least one kenning.


Music box

Take to uncharted land.

Where hate & love co-exist in the peace

& harmony of melody.

Shower with politics,

joy, and pain

when coasting under

waves of crystal clear reception

or fuzzy; all the same.

1 note

Chair - Love

April 12, 2014

Write a “replacement” poem, substituting a physical noun with an abstract noun, Google your tangible noun, and find some sentences using it.


Word: Chair        Replacement: Love


»A love without a back or arm rests is a stool.

Idly sitting by as an island of solidarity.

»A permanently fixed love in a train or theater is a seat.

Shrouded in the loneliness of the crowd.

»A love for more than one person is a couch.

Much more personal.

»Love is known for its antiquity and simplicity.

From the dawn of time,

»Some love has foot rests.

Cause’ we are all somebody’s fool…


April 11, 2014

Write an “anti-drinking” poem


Sober fun is all I need.

Sometimes it takes a minute to loosen up.

When everyone else is cutting loose, and

spills and sips from red cups.


Do they have more fun?

Maybe you could make a case.

But I’ve never woken up

With xxxx’s drawn on my face.


The best part of sober?

It just feels so good to leave the party

when everyone else is broke,

& go to sleep with a pocket full of money.

1 note




Gliding cautiously across an old wooden floor,

there is deceitful perfection in its simplicity.

Shadowboxing, they call it.

Full of grace and inwardly effervescent power.

“It’s very powerful; respect it.”


Focus and concentration manifest;

Forming black, moist pools upon my gray shirt. “


Elbow higher.” “Foot outstretched.”

“Proper form is essential.”

Densely accented voices cue,

graciously allowing an outsider to practice

traditions inherited from their ancient forefathers.

1 note

Heaven’s Touch

April 10, 2014

Write your own advertisement-poem


My mom’s always wanted a decorating business, so here’s a tagline


When decorations are in order

and time’s in a crunch

you’re fresh out of ideas,

and haven’t got a hunch.


Come see Ms. Prudence,

cause’ It won’t cost a bunch,

for world class service

with a hint of “Heaven’s Touch.”

1 note

Welcome Home

April 9, 2014


Welcome home

to the machine of broken dreams

stalled nightmares, and distended esteem.


Deprivation of consternation

elevated beyond reprieve. The hope you left

you lost, yourself, but it doesn’t grow on trees.


The pre-booked flights of motivation

to higher heights, in jets of aspiration

that just couldn’t ascend.


So welcome home

your bed has gone cold

from wedged hearts that never mend.