Greetings fellow travelers, wranglers and companions of the soul. This is my first prompt, and I’m glad to be part of this amazing community. Now let’s get physical.

A little man in a little blue suit
One of my favorite movies from the ’90s was The Doors, with one of my favorite scenes being when Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer, in case you missed it) was maced, then went on stage and essentially, in all his Morrisonness, nearly provoked a riot. In the middle of the band’s opening song, Morrison — and who knows how much of this is based on actual accounts from a real performance and how much is Oliver Stone’s storytelling — stops the music and begins to relay the story of what happened backstage. In the midst of enjoying a private moment with a lady friend in the john, as Morrison tells the crowd:

“A little man came in … with a little blue hat, in a little blue suit … ”

And with that in mind, we’re going to solute “the little man” in each of our lives.

Homunculus defined
I first came upon mention of “homunculus” while reading The Body Has a Mind of Its Own, by Sandra Blakeslee and Matthew Blakeslee (2008, Random House Trade Paperback Edition). In chapter two, they discuss the archaic term, which, based on what they call the “premodern idea,” is akin to “the helmsman in a one-man submarine” — a person inside a person inside a person, like a never-ending set of Russian dolls.

There’s a lot of fun stuff on Wikipedia that I won’t go into here, but essentially, homunculus is Latin for “little human” or, prior to the feminist movement, “little man.”

And so let’s write to the little man
“Little man” can mean a lot of things (and yes, your “little man” may very well be a “little woman.”)

When I think back to the Jim Morrison bit above, I think of a Napoleonic authority figure. Specifically, I think of an old boss who abused his company status to compensate for his stature.

But the “little man” (or woman, or androgen, for that matter) doesn’t have to be a subject of scorn. On the contrary — perhaps your little man is akin to the Great Gazoo, sitting on the hood of your car or directing you from a perch on your shoulder.

Or maybe your “little man” is a baby or child. Or maybe it’s your inner child.

In the end, your little man doesn’t even need to be little — maybe just someone with a little brain, petty thoughts or shallow sensibilities.

Or maybe just a hermit crab. Or a robot trapped in a flesh suit.

Whomever, or whatever, your little man (or woman) may be, let him/her/it be your writing guide this week. And remember to post your poem or a link to it on next Thursday’s Get Your Poem On post.

I looked at oncle Jim’s work on Flickr and immediately thought, “How does this person know about my strangest, most disturbing, dreams?” I was especially struck by this image of a human with a donkey head* sitting in a field, holding a tattered umbrella. There’s clearly a surreal quality to this piece, but it also manages to somehow invoke a feeling of serenity.

As the community management team mentioned in our post about changes we’re making to Read Write Poem, we are folding the Read Write Image post in with the regular lineup of Read Write Prompts that we share every Friday. I hope you like this photo and can find a way into it for your poem this week.

Perhaps you can use the image to enter into a dream or surreal state. Perhaps you want to talk about why there’s a donkey-headed person (or a person-bodied donkey, depending on your perspective) sitting in the middle of a field. A dramatic monologue might even be in order.

Whatever you write, we look forward to reading it when you leave a link to your work on next Thursday’s Get Your Poem On post.

If you choose to include the image on your site along with your poem, make sure you link back to it. Also, attribute the photo to oncle Jim, as required by the Creative Commons license.

*Read Write Poem participant Dave Bonta thinks this is a kangaroo head and not a donkey head. He’s probably right, since he knows things. But you can make it be whatever kind of animal you like.

XX by oncle Jim

Hello, fellow poets! My name is Kristen McHenry, and I’m thrilled to be joining Read Write Poem as a new member of the community management team — and writing my first Read Write Prompt! I’ve been participating in Read Write Poem since last December and am thrilled to take on this new role.

This week’s prompt is based on a poem written by a teenager. I read the piece to a group of teens a few weeks ago to a raucous response. It’s called “What I Could Never Tell My Mother,” by Margaret W.

This week, I want you to write about the unsaid. What would you never dream of telling your mother? What would you like to say to her if you had the courage? Maybe you’ll feel better if you finally came clean about what really happened to her favorite vase, her special bottle of holiday liqueur or her parakeet. Be as serious or humorous as you feel moved to be; but above of all, be brave. Who knows? We may find that we have similar secrets. And of course, we’d never dream of telling.

If you share absolutely everything with your mom, you can write the poem about your dad or someone else who’s close to you.

Happy writing! I look forward to reading your work, and to being a part of the Read Write Poem team.

Describe your version of paradise. Is it a physical location? A mental state? A religious concept? You can write today’s poem as an ode, if you like. An ode to paradise itself or an ode to whatever takes you there: a plane, a faith-based practice, a lover, a dessert. Imagine the joy of paradise! The elation!

It’s OK, too, if you’re not feeling joy or elation. You’re working hard on this poem-a-day business. Your energy may be flagging. If paradise itself doesn’t pack a jolt of inspiration for you, choose a different path. Write about the stereotype of paradise: Why is it always assumed to be a warm, remote tropical place? Write about finding paradise in a place contrary to the traditional images. Do you delight in Manhattan? Or Antarctica? Or a classroom full of preschool children?

You may also turn and run in the opposite direction: Where is hell for you? What tortuous small town or big box store or reality television program sends you spiraling into despair? Take us there with you. Show us around.

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A note from “admin”: This month, since we’re all trying to write every day, we’re leaving the comments open with each prompt so you can post links to your poems as you write them. So, go ahead and write your poem, post your poem (with a link to Read Write Poem and a Read Write Poem tag, if you would) and come back to this very spot and share your link with us.

Of course, if you’re a creature of habit, you can always post your links at today’s “Get Your Poem On” post. Who are we to mess around with what works for you?

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 writing (every day)!

A full week of NaPoWriMo and you’re still with us! Congratulations! No matter if you’re on schedule or playing catch-up, I’m happy you’re here.

Let’s write today about nicknames. Do you have one? Is there something endearing or embarrassing that other people call you now or have in the past? Fess up! Do you refer to yourself by something other than your “real” name? For instance, I have been known to name some of the different aspects of my personality: Lola runs marathons and is generally a real go-getter, Ripsy parties with her girlfriends and Bernadette abandons her family and travels the globe with her writing pal Penelope. (See how creative you can get with names? If you don’t have an alter ego, invent one!)

Maybe those mean, mean school kids taunted you with a nickname when you were growing up? Four-eyes? Buck-teeth? Or maybe you have pet names for people in your life: Snookums or Pumpkin or Princess. Write a poem about one of these little gems or write a poem about someone going by a different name. Maybe she’s a spy. Maybe he has 11 different dating profiles online. Maybe the wife is in the Witness Protection Program.

Still stuck? Perhaps I can help. (I’m only doing this because I care about the poems you’ll write this month, and I believe in throwing myself into my work.) In hopes of inspiring you to think about your own stories, I’m going to confess something about my own nicknames.

My name is Carolee. Not Carol. Not Cara. Not Carol Lee. It’s Carolee. I’ve always been pretty strict about that. I’m also not “soccer mom” or “hockey mom” (although I’ll “throw down” and fight you like one if you insist on calling me one). I’m Carolee.

However, somehow, in college, the jazz band started calling me “Toots.” It is the only nickname that ever stuck. Ever. I am still “Toots” (affectionately and flirtatiously, not disrespectfully) to the people who knew me then. This is what happens when you hang out with musicians: You marry a trumpet player and get a nickname like Toots. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

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A note from “admin”: This month, since we’re all trying to write every day, we’re leaving the comments open with each prompt so you can post links to your poems as you write them. So, go ahead and write your poem, post your poem (with a link to Read Write Poem and a Read Write Poem tag, if you would) and come back to this very spot and share your link with us.

Of course, if you’re a creature of habit, you can always wait until Thursday, when we’ll have our weekly “Get Your Poem On” post. Who are we to mess around with what works for you?

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 writing (every day)!