Nov 29 09: Wanted: No Name

November 30, 2009 § 6 Comments

I have been so blocked on this prompt! Pick a number, make that number the title of your poem, and write a poem. Again I changed the title, and maybe the poem isn’t so number-y either, but I started with the number one.  

And one is appropriate – one more poem to go.

Wanted: One lost and missing thing, no name.
Somewhat like a hedgehog: pale-ish, 
gray and tender. Tends to tuck into
itself when threatened or even if it’s not.

Wanted: Something else too, no name.
A bit like a box, but not. Aqua, with
a shimmer in the right light. Can disappear
at the squawk of a crow.

Wanted: Stuffing for my head, no name. 
Hard enough to contain my thoughts
except when I am dreaming. Should be
replaceable in case the room is flooded.

Wanted: You.

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§ 6 Responses to Nov 29 09: Wanted: No Name

  • Thank you everyone! It was fun to just throw images on the page and not define them.

    Sort of a stream of consciousness kind of dribble. :-)

  • sharils says:

    What a great poem! I can definitely relate to wanting that idea just out of reach. The way you turn being blocked sideways to get the magic out is inspiring.

  • I love your writers block, I wish I could catch it. Your darker poems remind me of Stephen King. And that is a huge compliment coming from me. Love it!

  • Vicki says:

    Not bad for being “blocked”! You always give us something wonderful to read!
    Hugs!

  • Julie says:

    Wanted: Stuffing for my head, no name.
    Hard enough to contain my thoughts
    except when I am dreaming. Should be
    replaceable in case the room is flooded.

    I like that one! Stuffing indeed.

  • Neil Reid says:

    We should all be so capably blocked!

    I began writing in the light of one man whose every poem tasted like home to me. He’d already left by then. I wondered if I would ever touch words the way he did.

    Oft I hear people who read your poems speak that one word, sad. I understand, yet listening, always I hear sadness only like a mask with brilliant light and warmth right behind. Isn’t it obvious?

    Maybe I am beginning to recognize that taste a second time. I am grateful for the poems you share with us.

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