Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Write a poem about a game.
This could be literal, metaphorical, or symbolic of a greater meaning.
Writings
A flip of cards A roll of dice Moving spaces Trapping mice Answer questions Take a guess Is it more Or is it less Build a city Defend a tower Defeat an army Rise to power Shuffle fast Deal the hand Look ahead To where you’ll land Spin the dial Pop the bubble Go to jail On the double Make some money And spend it too Was that a lie Or was it true Play a card Reverse or skip Have a kid Or take a trip Go all in Stay or fold No one knows The cards you hold Make your move Or stay the same Either way Enjoy the game
Hot potato! Hot potato! Who has the hot potato? Whoever has the hot potato by the end of this song Will have to treat the burns for at least an hour long!
Hot potato! Hot potato! Who has the hot potato? If you have the hot potato when we finish this chant, Be ready for the pain in the palm of your hand!
Hot potato! Hot potato! Who has the hot potato? Whoever has the hot potato, You. Are. Out. Hahaha!!!
From a young age I always thought that I would be a fashion designer So I made designs and patterns I dressed up often and modeled
Then I grew up
The start of my teens And all I wanted to be Was a dancer So I practiced and practiced I did solos and made my own dance
And then I grew up
Now in my early adulthood I am surprised to be a poet Now I write and write And I write about my pain
And my next level isn’t unlocked
As we grow up We unlock new levels of our lives And new side quests and adventures So to be honest
Growing up is the true game of life
i have never been too intrigued by games, picking up pieces, moving them spaces, following rules.
i try to imagine myself doing so without getting frustrated, without simply ushering the board away, clearing the table and trying to forget i started something i cannot finish.
i have never been too intrigued by games and yet i seem to play one everyday.
player one: pick yourself up, throw back your sheets and saunter to the bathroom +10 points if completed in the time provided
it’s a chore so much so that the penalty looks more intriguing.
player one: if failure to complete task, dock 20 points and move back two spaces
i move back two spaces, barely lifting a finger to trace the next card, rolling the dice, accepting that fate.
player one: if previous task was completed, move forward three spaces and pick up a mystery card.
i read the card a few times, knowing well enough i had not compeleted the task. but again, i had never been one to follow rules, so, i pick up a mystery.
player one: mystery objective, pick up your phone, they’re worried about you, you know?
i bite the inside of my lip, my plush cheeks, i can feel the heat rising to my face.
i try to ignore the nagging feeling.
i have never been one for games.
never been one for rules.
i set about picking up the pieces once more, putting them in a pile to hide the disarray, trying to make it seem as if i have them all in a row, like i know what i’m doing.
i don’t have instructions, no warning label on how it is i’m supposed to go about life, how i’m supposed to play these games i hardly signed up for. how i’m supposed to complete small tasks without the drowned out feeling of incompletion and the nagging drag towards my bed.
so i pick up the pieces, put them back in their box to peek at once and a while, to see if the king or queen has moved, to see if there’s even a spark of reason to get them back out again.
playing this game is a backwards to forwards cycle i can’t seem to escape yet one i can’t seem to stop playing either.
Why do people do bad things why do they want to hurt almost like a need to sting to control their patch of dirt what caused them to behave this way was their childhood not colorful clearly bathed in black and plain gray sad to think of life being so gullible it's not fair what life throws at you is it a game, just a role of the dice to determine if you win or loose or to be really nasty or really nice this game of life is hard to play all the rules are not the same a wrong move can lead you astray a mistake can bring you shame why do people do bad things the wrong path was chosen, and they too lost their wings incapable of change just frozen.
Truth or dare Is it true That you saw her last night I dare you to tell me the truth
You sink into your seat As my heart sinks into my chest You try to hide the truth But I am going seek it
I felt the knife stab me As you left our bed And I feel it twist As you say two truths and a lie
I wasn’t with her Bullshit because I have the cards of My broken heart
So truth or dare Dare you to not lie Simon says Tell me the truth
Cards in hand, Faces stilled. Ancient rules And hardened wills.
Fighting death, Not by choice. Lost my breath Found my voice.
Time is short, Make your move. Ticking clock Time to prove
Who you are, Where you’ve been, Where you’ll go Before the end.
Close your eyes Breathe it in. Feel it rise To the brim.
Victory Close at hand, Draw the line In the sand.
Now it’s time. Finish him. End the game. Smile and win.
Dealt two cards and I’ve got jack. Hope that the board can cut me some slack. These cards must be stacked What kind of sick joke is that? I’ll just keep my straight face And try to bet high Just hoping that nobody can see through my lie. Just Keep up the bluff. Don’t show what’s inside. Only thing that matters is holding back a sigh. Maybe I’ll fold. Admit to my mistake. But then they’ll all know that I’m truly a fake. This feeling won’t shake, I may finally break. Oh no, the bet’s to me. Do I call? What do I do? “Tobie?” What’s your move?” “Um…I call and raise by 2” “Call.” “Call.” “Call.”
As i walk over to the bench In my new, shiny cleats I see the roster Im playing striker She’s playing midfield
Your probably wondering “who is “she”?” Let me describe her She’s perfect Like a long day at the beach with your lover Or a orange sunset on a plane as you fall asleep
Her face is like a picasso masterpiece Her personality As vibrant as a wildflower Her kindness Better than gandhi
The game begins She passes me the ball Someone trips me The referee “doesnt see it” I start getting mad
Its halftime We’re winning, 1-0 I scored that goal I highfive her
Theres two minutes left The other teams goalie punts it far up the field Someone heads the ball into the goal My goalie misses it by an inch I walk over and tell them its ok
The games done It was 1-1 We’re doing penalty kicks Im scared She tells me it’s okay
I’m last for penalty kicks They’ve made 4 So have we Its all up to me I give her a fist bump
I back up a few steps from the ball I take a deep breath I run slowly Then faster I can’t do this
She gives me a nod I kick Its going to the top right corner The goalie dives to the left My eyes light up
Most of my team highfives me Just one stays back Her She looks scared Like she wants to do something
I walk over “Are you ok?” I ask genuinely She looks up at me She smiles slightly She hugs me
“I.. uh,” i stammer “Brylee… i love you,” she says quietly We both blush “I… your parents won’t like that.” I say quickly She looks sad
“Sorry! Uhh… I… I I’ve liked you for a while too,” I say, smiling She does too I blush a little more I kiss her
Then… i wake up It was all a dream? I guess she doesn’t like woman anyway It makes sense I cry
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POEM STARTER
Door shut tightly, might the monsters come.
Write a poem which ends with this line. You may wish to interpret the 'monsters’ metaphorically rather than literally.