Tag: challenges

Poetry Workshop

Is it getting to be a bit much, what with flu recovery and all? Maybe…maybe a little bit.

Your poetry shelves will be as bare as the pasta section of your grocery store during the pandemic! Huzzah! April 2020.
Welcome to the Century Poetry Workshop
where getting it right never precludes
getting it done. While you're here you'll
experience the ups, downs of any lesser
program, but here you'll get to do so,
again, and again, and again, and...
again. Our founder realized the old
adage, "If at first you don't succeed..."
carried within it the implication 
that succeeding meant you could stop. 
Reasoning this didn't reflect real life, 
he instilled in us the belief that 
getting it right deserves a pat on 
your back and a well-deserved
feeling of accomplishment which
should last until tomorrow, when it
vanishes, just like it does for any 
baseball player who experiences
a victory in a late July game. And 
don't worry about "How will I
ever keep this up?" We've got you!
Our patented Stage of Global
Failure will make sure billions
have access to your daily task
to produce yet another poem.
Please note your publishing
platform has parameters in
place to reject one and two-lined
poems and frivolous limericks,
haiku, clerihews, and the like.
We're not making THAT mistake
again. (Also, shame parameters
have been increased for putting
such drivel online.) When you
'graduate' this program, a
century of verse under your
literary belt, you'll know you've
accomplished something! Will
you be able to call it literature?
That's up to you—we highly
recommend it, because how else
will you justify those daily doses of
depression to 'write just one more?'
Remember, as with any task like
mopping your kitchen floor, you
only get out of it what you put in!
So keep up the good work, avoid
those haunted eyes of the near-
graduates, and go write a poem!

95/100
100 poems in 100 days
(I can smell the finish line…)

Old

Man, I hurt. My accident of three weeks ago has left me two stiff knees, broken bones in both forearms, assorted pain I think is more broken bones in my hands and wrists, and perhaps a strained tendon in the ankle which rolled. My shoulder hurts from what I suspect is bursitis, and if I told you how it occurred doing nothing you would shake your head. The minor but ever-present ache in my right hip seems almost superfluous at this point. All of this inspired this poem.

August 2026.
New pains attack daily.
Old ones settle in like
fringe relatives who won't leave.
Memories don't fail, they
crowd each other out.
Challenges also pile up,
sapping desire to grapple
'yet again' with those never-
ending tasks which repeat. 

But....

Small moments harbor
poignancy unfelt in youthful
years. Sunsets seem 
more magical, plants
more interesting. Good meals
sustain constant pleasure.
Music, books span decades!
Undoable projects, now doable.
Time? Alternately your
friend, your enemy.

44/100