Poetry Prompt #9

[Sumyanna]

Here is the next word list prompt. Here are 10 words to inspire your writing. Use them to create anything form of poetry. The main thing is to read something into these words - and let them tell you a story.


uttermost
broken
womanly
middle
flame
callous
cause
delightful
far-flung
chess


The minimum word use is set at 3 words. I have found - trying to use as many as I can helps me stretch my writing. It is good practice.

Oh, and sorry it is a bit late - been on vacation.

Please post your writing here - so everyone can see what you came up with. Part of the joy in doing this exercise is to see how many different ways these words can take you.

~ Sumyanna

[MHenry]

Her womanly charms
In far-flung arms
Were often the cause
Of delightful pause
Her uttermost flame
Like her middle name
Broken and callous
Chess piece phallus

[Muttado1sb]

Well, it rhymes. Amusing, MH!

[MHenry]

Yep, that's about the best that could be said about this!

[RhymeLovingWriter]

no middle ground remained
among the broken shards of far-flung rhetoric
though some flamed callous in extremis
finding it delightful that cause
undertaken led to uttermost upheaval

unlike a game of chess, where patient,
skillful artistry, like womanly beguiling,
might just win the day

[Muttado1sb]

Nicely done, RLW!

[Muttado1sb]

The Flame Was a Surprise

The flame was a surprise
This was a calm place
A place in the middle
with dignity and grace

The flame was a surprise
and the calm was torn
Even in this middle place
sometimes hopes can be shorn
There was hope this
community would aid
in the peaceful sharing
of far-flung ideas made
using creative processes
so that opinions could
be presented to others
in forms that would
stay within boundaries
that would be all inclusive
and not voiced so as
to become exclusive

The flame was a surprise
with statements quite callous
and what made it worse is
they weren't meant with malice
This delightful space
where anything was a subject
for open discussion
on the form of the object
got thrown all off kilter
with uttermost surprise
that we should have seen coming
because we realize
that if there's controversy
if there can be sides
someone will be offensive
no matter all the strides

The flame was a surprise
but was eventually quelled
Maybe the dignity and grace
can soon again be upheld

[MHenry]

You really took this one seriously, Muttado1sb!

[RhymeLovingWriter]

Concur. Beautifully done.

[Muttado1sb]

Thanks. I started it and finished it in two different frames of mind, and now that I read it more thoroughly I see it needs some fairly major editing. The first section is way to long, and the line count is off, which explains part of why I had trouble with the rhyme through the middle. But I like it in three sections, so I am going to try and pull some of the first into the second. I see where it can be done, I just have to figure out how. I like the short last section as is, so I am going to have to work hard on structure.

[GrimReefer]

I am the uttermost faithful in my Love.
Broken womanly faces cround around me, I am caught in the middle.
They flame me for ignoring their cries.
Their callous hearts are the cause of my delightful far-flung.
Chess, check mate.

[RhymeLovingWriter]

Nicely done GrimReefer! Do you enjoy poetry prompts to get you started writing?

[GrimReefer]

They are something new to me.

[N. Y. Sonnet]

Thanks for the prompt -- a great selection of words! Here's my take on them. My poem is more of a story. Not very well written, I know, but it was fun to write!

The Match

With sweating brow, and gnawing at his nails
He taxed his brooding mind to uttermost
No broken loss for him this time; he’d give
No cause for his opponent more to boast

Her features were from alabaster carv’d
Her eyes with vict’ry glowed at his unease
Fair Venus, sheathed in fighting garb of Mars
No womanly rose waving in the breeze

And so the two faced off o’er black and white:
A duel of the wits, a wooden fight
The middle of the battle long had passed,
And now the end was drawing into sight

The flame of war burned in her every move
Her shining queen threw down his last brave knight
Enough! He countered with a callous blow
And felled with king of night the queen of light

Her mouth was hard, but fear now laced her hand
It trembled; hope returned to fend his cause
A flash of genius lit his mind. His way
Was clear. Each second was an hour’s pause

Or so it seemed, as he put forth his pawn
She knew then her mistake – alas, too late!
The final move, delightful move, was his
Voice low, exultant, he declared ‘Check mate!’

And as he basked in victory, his mind
Could see a crown emblazoned on his fess
The far-flung dream had finally come true:
He’d beaten her! He’d won the game of chess!