Writing Prompt
POEM STARTER
Create a narrative poem telling the story of a family heirloom, passed down through generations. Consider how its meaning and value change over time with the course of the narrative.
Writings
The Letter Opener
This little sharp thing was once a knife
That traded more hands than some would admit
For it was not a gift, but an obligation
For those deemed fit.
The first was plucked like any living thing is
Before their time, and delivered to the mud
For those who only saw the bottom line,
Like gods with their great floods.
The blade sank into the bitter earth
Where it dulled and diminished
Waiting for an...
Token of Defeat
I hate the hands that hold me.
They have no regard for what I am. In their hands, I am not the symbol I used to be.
Nobility handled me once. They treasured me. Between their hands, I brought comfort. Behind the polished glass, I shone with warm pride. The pride of the palace. A beacon of safety. I symbolised a brutal battle won. And the re-crowning of a man we loved and respected.
Sometimes, t...
Heir Loom Generation
**The Heirloom Brooch**
In a dusty, wooden jewelry box,
Amidst the scent of age and loss,
Lies a brooch, with silver gleam,
A whisper of an ancient dream.
With a sapphire set in ornate gold,
It tells a tale that's often told
By grandmothers with softened eyes
Of love, of life, of long goodbyes.
It first adorned a maiden fair
In a village lost in time's long stare,
A wedding ...
Rocking horse.
Flaming hair
Pounding hooves
Legs flayed
Eyes white rolling
Always winning
The main event.
The starred stallion.
Ridden, cheered and triumphant
as gleeful children holler.
All smiles.
…
Falling mane
Chipped nails
A knocked knee
Flaky cornea
Always dusty
The biggest problem.
That bloody horse.
Hidden, derided and side-eyed
as adults wonder when
It’s time....
The Lai Of Eight
My grandfather ate in the eve.
A timepiece rest above his sleeve.
Worked many a day for it paid.
Measuring time, where the sun laid.
Great craftsmanship, he’d invested.
Tardiness, he truly bested.
Upon his death, father cried.
From his wrist, forever had lied.
My dad sat and watched the TV.
The timepiece hit 8, he could see.
Sent to bed, I yearned to stay up.
Denied, something strong in his cup.
...
Chronic Inheritance
Nothing betrays the deep sadness I try to mask more than my affiliation to sad songs
As if listening to other people’s heartaches and mistakes would help right my wrongs.
Not even the sound of silence can compensate
for the fact that everybody hurts
Every one in my family that is, for generations we’ve carried this heirloom thats cursed
Nothing compares to you when the drugs don’t work, a...
Habit Continued
A habit last for long long time,
First generation set up the bases,
Treated each other like one,
They knew honesty has a long way to come.
Past down to the second generation,
Heir to the values and open a new chapter,
Help out others with a honest heart,
Obstacles everywhere brave to overcome.
Third generation come on stage,
Unique way to handle things.
Fit into the new era, stand out from other...
The Chest
Deep in a corner of the family room, next to the piano, there was a large wooden chest tucked just away from plain sight. It was large and ornate and it stuck out tremendously from the rest of the modernist, suburban decor that filled the house. I remember asking my mother about it one day. Apparently, the chest was brought to the US from Norway by my great-great grandparents. As she spoke about i...