by the Read Write Poem Staff
This is it, your last prompt of the month, your last NaPoWriMo poem waiting to be written and put to bed.
In the spirit of 30 days of sharing poetry, we thought it would be fun to ring out National Poetry Month with a giant collaborative line-by-line poem! Consider today’s prompt a little like the “take a penny, leave a penny” dish at the quickie-mart. To begin, help us write a kickin’ poem by contributing a line in the comments section. It’s ok to come back often, just try not to leave two in a row.
Next, because we’re not through with you just yet … you are invited to choose your favorite line as inspiration or a starting point for a poem of your own. Please be sure to give credit where credit is due and attribute your chosen line’s author!
All together now … Leave a line (in the comments section), take a line (to write your own poem).
It’s that easy!
Today, post your favorite poem you wrote in April at the “Get Your Poem On” post, or post today’s poem. The GYPO is waiting for you (it’s a different post, right?). Whenever you are ready; it will stay open for a week.
And don’t forget to go read the poems of others in this wonderful writing community. We’re all in this NaPoWriMo “mess” (ha ha!) together; let’s support each other in the insanity that is was writing (every day)!
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
(So far we have these, keep it going and grab the whole poem as you go, now. Makes it easier to read and work
.)
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
easing memories of last summer’s fires
painting a colorful picture with words
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment
loving inhibitions caress the clouds
(and here’s yesterday’s, I had a huge essay to write and had no time for NaPoWriMo: http://cassandralee.tumblr.com/post/102007844)
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
slow rhythm pounding in my ears
Oops, I forgot to post the whole poem.
Here ’tis:
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
Slow rhythm pounding in my ears,
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
loving inhibitions caress the clouds
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
Slow rhythm pounding in my ears,
tears dotting my lashes and trembling in anticipation for the grand finale.
oops…. i meant *grand finale
sounding like dylan singing in some distant gravel pit
(Thanks, cookie-chan, for grabbing Cassie’s line and inserting it! Good job!)
* * *
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
loving inhibitions caress the clouds
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
Slow rhythm pounding in my ears,
tears dotting my lashes and trembling in anticipation for the grand finale.
sounding like dylan singing in some distant gravel pit
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
loving inhibitions caress the clouds
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
Slow rhythm pounding in my ears,
tears dotting my lashes and trembling in anticipation for the grand finale.
sounding like dylan singing in some distant gravel pit
still lingering, echoing
[...] NaPoWriMo Read Write Poem Prompt #30 [...]
A handful of feathers
carries leftover conversations
between the birds and the trees
Nestling secrets is a community of nocturnal riot
laid bare in trembling anticipation
I clutched at my vacuumed belly
the bird on the lampshade turns away from me
the path of the rainbow
bleeds out under my feet
soft like tiny feet
the raindrops rustle the leaves
soaking the spring-wakening fertile earth
painting a colorful picture with words
as black as a bird flying out the window
its wings flapping toward freedom
blue skies more than a memory
in the branches of a blighted elm tree
clouds dare not approach
Calypso coral sky, unexpected arrangement
of blank slate and overworked canvas
I take a deep breath and blow the feathers
ruffling overused terms of endearment,
loving inhibitions caress the clouds
blowing out a lifetime of broken dreams and forgotten promises.
Slow rhythm pounding in my ears,
tears dotting my lashes and trembling in anticipation for the grand finale.
sounding like dylan singing in some distant gravel pit
still lingering, echoing
stones roll, times change
[...] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ carries leftover conversations was donated by Deb of stonemoss.org. Do check out Read Write Poem. [...]