by the Read Write Poem Staff
As a child, Jessica GC says she had two heroes: Wonder Woman and her mother. “To me, they were one and the same,” says Jessica. “Both had long dark hair. Both were strikingly beautiful, and both had incredible strength.”
Write a poem in which you to pay tribute to your hero, past or present.
Here are few possibilities for inspiration:
- What made your childhood hero so special? What traits did you envy? Are super powers involved?
- Do you have more than one hero? Consider drawing a comparison between them.
- Honor the everyday heroes among us — the policemen, the fire fighters, the troops — risking their lives everyday.
- Did your hero ever fall from the pedestal you put him or her on?
- Maybe you’re the hero you want to write about! Have you ever had a moment when someone has made you feel like a hero? Did you ever save a cat from a burning building? Or maybe it was something as simple as staying up all night with a friend who needed you.
In any case, share with us in your poem what made or makes your hero so deserving of admiration.![]()
Reminders for everyone
Read the Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Challenge Kickoff post for details on how the challenge works — and how you can engage with Read Write Poem this month, no matter what your personal writing challenge is for the month of April.
Please read this page to find out how Read Write Poem’s prompt posts work. Remember that work linked from any post this month is shared in precisely that spirit: sharing, as opposed to critiquing. If you haven’t done so already, please read all the pages under About in the navigation bar.













A few months back, I began working on a poem which really fit this prompt, so it seemed natural to return to those beginnings and see what emerged in the process. The result is “The Perfect Dance.” You can find it at http://bridgeanna.blogspot.com
Blessings on your day!
To paraphrase the old Lay’s potato chip commercial, “I can’t choose just one.”
http://pamelavillars.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/april-20-10-heroes/
OMG Jessica I forgot. Thanks for the prompt!
This prompt put me in an odd mood, and ended up with an odd poem
http://www.cathymcguire.com/poetry.htm
My poem, Poseidon Adventure, can be read on my blog, http://www.musetomyeyes.blogspot.com
Here’s mine.
“My Hero” is at http://1965footprints.blogspot.com
Ok, here’s mine: http://disorder1313.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/transliteration-of-catullus-xxvi/
An ode
http://marcieaf.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-day-20.html
A few years ago, I wrote the lyrics to a song for my husband. The title is “Everyday Heroes.” Even though it isn’t new, I thought I share it any way. I hope you enjoy!
http://bridgeanna.blogspot.com
Have a magical evening!
I started to write about Salvador Dali as proof to a suburban kid that there was a world of mind out there somewhere, but it got very complicated. Given time limits, I switched to a lighter topic.
Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip: Happy in Haplessness
Offering for April 20th:
http://timkeeton.wordpress.com
Tim Keeton
Poet/Wizard/Teller-of-tales
I could only squeeze out a super short poem today.
It’s about my mom: http://goo.gl/fb/i3mLa
It’s my prompt! It’s my prompt! Ok, enough about me. I love the poems everyone has come up with today! I think I’ve spent more time reading all of them than I have working on my own.
My “hero” poem can be found here:
http://paperdreams-jgc.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-20-hero-poem-aka-my-prompt-for-rwp.html
today’s catch somebody
Here is my poem about admiration for heroes and villains in general; a spectator’s perspective on those larger-than-life characters that make life worth watching.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/nebsy/writing/5041258-napowrimo-20
my hero: virgin/whore.
Today my hero is my son.
http://freckledwriter.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-mound.html
How to be heroic at the florist’s –
http://theresebroderick.wordpress.com
Day 20 poem: hero was a waitress at a local diner, who always had a smile on her face and could always give you the time of day
http://lanijo.com/poetry/cherries-hamburgers
My heroes were many, and were who kept me sane as a child.
Buried alive
The gathered dust
Forgotten on crowded shelves
Mine are the heroes
By imagination invoked
By ink brought to live
Neglected by time
The cruelty of children
What drove me
To hide inside my warm solitude
Among the pages
I burrowed myself
Amidst word and rhyme
There I will remain
Neglected by time
Quill replied:
April 20th, 2010 at 9:14 pm
oops! typo
Byink brought to life*
Be your own hero.
http://tinacelio.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/personal-empowerment-program/
Off-prompt again today. Moving and unpacking is just taking up all my time!
http://memali.posterous.com/2030-10
Great prompt, but this is what wanted to be written today…
~~~~~~~
Death of a Pen
The pen tumbles from my fingers
A suicidal leap into the gap
Between car and bank.
Don’t worry about it, happens all the time,
Says the teller with the close-cropped hair
Sure enough I see another Bic
crushed blue plastic shards
scattered on the asphalt,
A slender tube of ink
like a windpipe revealed.
Unable to reach it, I drive away
A small regret hangs there like a cloud
The teller has moved on, of course
Just a pen
Another disposable thing
A procession of brainless tires will roll over it
Mute, inexorable.
http://wp.me/pGBCb-1W
Empire From Secret Dreams
Angeliad of Surazeus
2010 04 20
http://open.salon.com/blog/surazeus/2010/04/20/empire_from_secret_dreams
I turn wheel of my white motor car
and glide along black asphalt highway
under a gold sun shimmering bright
from home to office and back again
to build an empire from secret dreams.
People dressed in colonial costumes
like Thomas Jefferson and Paul Revere
carry assault rifles and wave big signs
shouting King Zulu is a socialist clown
who builds an empire from secret dreams.
Ancient blind jester with long gray hair
plays jazz on a bright gold saxophone
while Lion Queen and Wizard of Weird
dance kissing in cupola on capitol dome
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Prophet of Doom on Brooklyn Bridge
raises Eye Phone diamond eye of truth
that reveals key to unlock gate of heaven
where Jesus and Satan play chess of war
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Three sons of Samuel in White House
share triple crown of Jesus for power
while pregnant Rapunzel smells a flower
deciding whether or not to abort her child
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Rapunzel in short skirt and hair in a bun
shouts in microphone while sipping tea
your doctors will not take away our guns
then hides barrels of oil from Alaska fields
to build an empire from secret dreams.
I love America land of my ancestors
where songs of my mothers ring clear
over snow-sparkling mountain peaks
of Appalachia and Arapaho and Takoma
to build an empire from secret dreams.
King Richard dances with Queen Zaida
in Garden of Flower Eyes above Heaven
great ziggurat of polished steel on Cuba
where Dragon Empress of America reigns
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Goddess of Liberty who left Manhattan
waits for me alone in mist of Seattle
calling my name when I wake from sleep
come home to Takoma where you were born
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Cowboy Clown flees White House at dawn
hiding jewels he stole in a Texas library
while Moses comes bearing tablets of gold
riding a horse from Black House in Chicago
to build an empire from secret dreams.
I see fifty kings dance on vast chessboard
of diverse America from sea to shining sea
as a million people twitter on phone lines
while I sail ship on sea of world wide web
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Stand by my side in eternity of now
and gaze deep in my sea-mountain eyes
so I may understand song of your heart
and help you on quest for our holy grail
to build an empire from secret dreams.
Open blank book of old forgotten tales
to see little girl holding yellow umbrella
who rides a pony under new circus tent
though angels are ancestors without names
who build an empire from secret dreams.
I stop and look back on road of my life
mapping meaning from random chaos
how I drift without direction on noble quest
for holy grail hidden in eyes of my wife
to build an empire from secret dreams.
I want to be a hero who worships Hera
for she taught me how to care for bride
tending her needs and guarding her life
so she may reincarnate our immortal souls
to build an empire from secret dreams.
How do we develop core set of values
so we may act on principles of love
when faced with complex situations
guiding our way through chaos of desire
to build an empire from secret dreams.
I drive alone and silent in my white car
gliding with thousands of other cars
where I catch glimpses of faces and eyes
whose names and deeds are mysteries
to build an empire from secret dreams.
We rose from ancient lake of dreams
ten thousand years ago singing at dawn
and ran thousands of miles west to find
garden of paradise on lush river shore
to build an empire from secret dreams.
We farmed and danced and fought wars
and built castles and rode horses swift
and sailed boats to map our whole world
and now drive cars and fly planes in clouds
to build an empire from secret dreams.
I never see any one of you face to face
but I see your faces and read your words
on my Eye Phone a magic tablet of gems
that reveals hidden mysteries of our world
as we build an empire from secret dreams.
Two little girls wearing silk fairy wings
dance in yard of a house on curving road
picking flowers and singing in sunlight
as I capture their spirit in a video camera
to build an empire from secret dreams.
http://kolokoli.blogspot.com/2010/04/boast-of-me.html
Realistically, I don’t know that I’ve ever done anything to be a hero to anyone else, but I do think I need to learn to be my own hero. Starting today.
http://www.robertlunday.net/2010/04/poem-20-coyotes.html
http://sky-lined.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-20.html Completely unrelated! I shall hope for better luck tomorrow~
Are we really at 20 out of 30? Aren’t we heroic.
http://robin-turner.blogspot.com/2010/04/hero.html
My hero’s a little less well known than others.~ Hehe
http://wintermintfruit.blogspot.com/2010/04/power-penguin.html
“Walking Past Bryant Park”
http://eveningpoems.blogspot.com/
I wish I had given myself more than an hour to work on this. I’ll try not to procrastinate tomorrow.
I present . . . haikus.
http://cosmicmermaid.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/fictional-women-made-me-real/
How to be a Hero
http://scriptophobe.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-20-hero-poem.html
SHE
Poem #20. “Kronos 2.”
Posted at: http://troysworktable.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-20.html
Here’s mine: I have no Heroes.
And now to wipe the sweat from my brow…
I’m sacrificing quality for qauntity…but here goes:
http://mylineofwords.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-20-hero-of-my-own-story.html
http://skankinmoon.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/e-e-d/
NaPoWriMo #20 Peter
Still on the west coast, trying to stay awake on east coast time… here’s one for the astronomers I have always adored.
http://rustbloommansions.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-twenty-poem-20-sweeping-night-sky.html
http://seashelllz.livejournal.com/117108.html
Last minute again but hanging in there(:
http://alienfireworks.blogspot.com/2010/04/343.html
Why I am Not a Magician
I’m thinking of a card, remembering
how excited I was to get my first
magic kit, the way I had several songs
by Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
already in mind for background music
while I would pull a string of handkerchiefs
from my pants pocket, pour milk slowly
into a rolled-up newspaper. For my birthday
we saw Harry Blackstone, Jr. live,
an interactive show with a buzzsaw,
disappearing animals and a floating light bulb.
Magic made anything possible: ropes cut
then suddenly fused back together, rings
flowing into and out of each other
like puddles in a rainstorm. I was certain
I would look good in a top hat, so I practiced
and practiced, but I couldn’t even
roll a quarter across the tops of my fingers
and playing cards slipped from my hands
as if someone were riding the bicycles
on the back. Instead, I unveiled words,
learned to make anything I wanted
appear on blank paper. Somewhere,
Blackstone’s ghost recites Shakespeare
while I pull a rabbit from a baseball cap.
His eyes adjust to the light. His pink nose
wriggles in hotel air, stale but cool enough
to make his fur bristle. His ears twitch
in rhythm with the ice machine in the hall,
churning out its cold cargo. See how
he taps one lucky foot impatiently?
He’s looking for a carrot, a hunter
or a way out.
robinamelia replied:
April 21st, 2010 at 6:59 am
That’s terrific. The Herb Alpert soundtrack brings me back–I remember the period.
http://self-intoxication.deviantart.com/art/My-Metronome-161465242
My poem is here:
http://ragbone.wordpress.com
http://thebooklife.wordpress.com/2010/04/21/4-20/
Didn’t get too much time yesterday when I was writing the piece, so I didn’t get to play with the prompt as well as possible.
http://www.mayaganesan.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-20.html
http://bygraceandfaith.tumblr.com/
My day 20 poem is there…I have fallen behind sadly