EXERCISE Challenge #13: Three Random Elements

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by Fluffy, Mar 22, 2015.

  1. Three Random Elements


    This is an all new type of challenge I've decided to give a go. You will write a poem with a style and theme of your choosing. There's room for so much creativity here. There's just one rule, which is to involve the following three in some way:

    1. Smoke
    2. Picnic
    3. Daydream

    I'm not saying you have to use these exact words in the poem itself, by the way. :) As I mentioned above, figure out a creative way to include these three elements. It's meant to make you think a lot. I know, how could I make you do such a thing, right? Who knows, maybe you'll come up with something real easily!

    Don't worry though, I'll be putting myself through the challenge too. Hopefully my example will provide some inspiration, once it's finished. :] Have fun!
  2. The Moment That I Wake

    The grass was soft as pillows,
    like a bed 'neath the willows
    Where a girl can dream for life
    and abandon all her strife

    A muffin flavored like fall,
    coffee sixteen ounces tall
    This is a simple food love,
    this picnic that I dream of

    Happy little puffs of grey
    part from my lips as I sway
    I could watch the wisps for hours
    while they dance among flowers

    Alone in my wonderland,
    as long as peace can withstand
    For the moment that I wake,
    I'll realize it was all fake
    #2 Fluffy, Mar 22, 2015
    Last edited: Mar 23, 2015
    • Love Love x 1
  3. Gonna have to stick with prose. Poem with mechanical structure seems weird to me.

    Weave oh weave for me oh please, a loom of foggy appetite spinning in my hand. Penetrate and rupture me with your sanguine choir shone from my deepest artery. Stain my skin inside the flesh near my beating heart will you press. Rob me blind of worldly goods, attached to the soul as any chain would. Pierce my walls and linger a moment more, I cannot forget nor forgive you my contemptuous whore. Yet please I ask, would you weave for me into my blood through my veins? Like a strike of gold, dig a little bit longer and make my heart heavy and hardened. Like a cherry, only bitter and sore shall it be plucked when my body can take no more.

    Well. (open)
    That wasn't depressing at all.
    • Love Love x 1
  4. Smokey Quartz (A nonet)

    Your eyes resemble a smokey quartz
    Glistening in the warm daylight.
    Perhaps when I think of them
    Our souls mingle and touch.
    A thought passes by,
    A Picnic for
    You and I...
    • Love Love x 1
  5. Here's a two stanza haiku for you!

    Eyes are watering
    I just want to eat foodstuff
    Smoke everywhere I

    Can't enjoy this park
    Or peace, I can't imagine
    Much beyond gray screen

    Well shit. It was supposed to be funny. Oh well.
    • Love Love x 1
  6. Here I am,
    Stuck again,
    Smoke billows,
    And swallows.

    Inside my head,
    It's no picnic,
    No sun, only,
    Smoke and mirrors.

    I can't breathe, please, help.
    Pull me from this dream,
    Where everything died,
    And there's nothing good.

    My thoughts are filled with black,
    Ashes and smoke combined,
    As my mind burns itself,
    All to escape my head.
  7. Standing at the barbecue
    Staring off into space
    He dreamed of far off places
    And a damsel of true grace

    So lost within his dream was he
    That unheeded time slipped by
    Until bitter smoke reached up
    Assaulted his nose and burned his eye

    He waved a hand to spread it out
    And forced his gaze to lower
    There lay charred remnants of their food
    As from his Mother's gaze he did cower

    Another plate of food was brought
    And a stern warning did his Mom impart
    He stood there staring once again
    Waiting for the Maid who stole his heart
  8. The grill is a sacred place, hearkening back to primal man
    where fire, flesh, and metal meet, beside the great beer can.
    It is at this summer altar, may the culinary spirit flow
    of a father to his family without doing his pride a blow.

    For while dinner, breakfast, lunch are the realm of the female,
    the picnic is a man's best venue, an acceptable protrayal
    of the domesticated husband with his spatula and apron
    whether his media be beef, pork, lamb, or bacon.

    But beware! You distracted fathers, from letting your mind wander,
    lest the meat you cherish upon that grill be squandered!
    The fire is as much foe as friend, and you may find your burger black
    if you stare into the distance and let your attention slack!