Tag Archives: W3 Prompt

“Two Voices” for the W3 Challenge.

“Sisterly Squabbles”

A little weep, a little sigh,
a little teardrop in each eye.

Grandma Jane and her sister Sue,
one wanted one hole, the other, two

punched into their can of milk.
(All their squabbles were of this ilk.)

The rest, of course, is family fable.
They sat, chins trembling, at the table.

When my dad entered, we’ve all been told,
their milk-less coffee had grown cold.

For the W3 Challenge. this is the prompt: Two voices. Two perspectives. Tension lingers in the air. Can they find common ground? Will the conversation spark understanding or fracture further? You decide.Write a poem—any form, or none at all—that captures the heart of a difficult conversation.

My grandmother and her sister had a lifetime of such “differences.” It might have begun due to the events  revealed to me by my Aunt Stella, my grandmother’s daughter. Years after the deaths of both my grandmother and her sister,  I had asked my dad’s sister why there seemed to be so much antagonism between my grandmother and her sister, whom we called “Aunt Susie,” even though she was really our great aunt.  My Aunt Stella, a good church lady, revealed to me then what she thought was the crux of their antagonism.  My grandmother had, before my grandfather, been married to a different man whom she never ever mentioned to us, although her sister Margaret had mentioned him on occasion to us as *”That Black Devil!”  Grandma had one daughter with that husband, my Aunt Margie, but then divorced him and married my grandfather and had two more children, my father and my Aunt Stella, who told me the following tale.  It seems as though Aunt Susie once visited my grandmother and “The Black Devil” in their tiny one-bedroom house. When bedtime came, there was only one choice…one bed..and so of course they all three shared it.  “But, my  aunt said, unfortunately, my grandmother made the mistake of putting her husband in the middle and during the night, she woke up and found he and her sister were, well, um…they were having sexual intercourse!”  That was perhaps the only time in her life my Aunt Stella ever said those words and the fact that she told me was amazing.  No one else in my family had ever heard this story but we had surely all wondered why in that time when divorce was unheard of, my grandmother had chosen to divorce “That Black Devil.”  Years later, when I chose to go to a family reunion of my Aunt Margie’s family, all descendants of that “Black Devil,” (although I don’t think any of them ever met him since my Aunt Margie was raised by my grandmother and her second husband who had moved the family from Iowa to South Dakota) none of them had never heard the story, either. It certainly would explain, however, the lifetime of nit-picky bickering between my grandmother and her sister.

*  In calling my grandma’s first husband, “That Black Devil,” my Aunt Margaret was describing his soul as black, not his skin.

On a Candlemas Afternoon for the W3 prompt, Apr 6, 2025

On a Candlemas Afternoon

Palm shadows of a lazy afternoon
brush over, but do not disturb
the sleeping dog who fills the pavement
in front of “Abarrotes Gloria.”
Under its dusty awning, on a bench
meant for  customers notably absent,
a sleep-nodding senora
with small crocheted animals  for sale
watches for anyone to stir the calm of this mid-afternoon.

Through one imperceptibly cracked-open eye,
she watches the long-skirted bead vendor
make her hourly crossing from the beach,
her tray still heavy
after five hours of trudging
under the sweating sun,
that eye only opening wider
as two young men on loud motorcycles
circle the plaza in Izod shirts
from the used clothing booth of the mercado,
leaving a tree-shaking breeze
that filters through shadows
to stir the fine hairs on her arm.

for: The W3 Poetry prompt

To see other poems to this prompt go HERE

Mutability: For W3 prompt

 

Mutability

It
is life.
We can’t fight
the truth that we
were born to those rules
that return us to soil
from whence we have been lifted 
time after time, metamorphosed
from light to shadow, from breath to wind,
to rise and fall in some eternal plan 
we have no chart for except for what we see
in ripening grain and bread upon the table,
oceans raised into the air to fall as springtime rain.
Why can’t we see
we can’t control
our universe
but instead fall
like autumn leaves
down to the earth?

 

The above  poem was written to this prompt: Write a poem in “Tree of Life” poetic form about changes, impermanence, and strength.
‘Tree of Life’ poetic form:

  • An uplifting poem in 19 lines;
  • Syllabic: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-4-4-4-4-4-4;
  • Unrhymed;
  • Alignment: Centered

“Words” for W3 65

Words

By their adjustment,
I change their drift,
but when I alter their lilt,
I am as transformed by them
as they are by me.

I am inebriated by words.
I reel in their power
as they call my bluff.

They reflect the changes in me
I would otherwise not know.
I can float in their buoyant comfort
or shoot the rapids of emotion.

Words are my river and my raft,
my cushion and that daredevil conveyance
into a new stream of thought

from which I never return
to the exact same world
I left from.

 

Why Do We Write?

We write to share that part of us that might not otherwise be shared. The page is like a Fibber Magee and Molly closet where we store all those leftover parts of ourselves. Open the page and everything comes spilling out: organized, disorganized, jovial, sad, rational or irrational. Everything gets crammed into the page. We may not be lionized for it. Our words may be stolen and presented as someone else’s, but the important thing is to write them. Words are like a pressure valve, freeing pent-up emotions. They furnish a release that is somehow part of the solution to the problems they describe. 

For the W3 65 Prompt: Inspiration  (What inspires you to write poetry?) To read other poems written for this prompt, go HERE.