Think about a drive you often take. What is your favorite view/crossroads/mile-maker? Why? Are you going or coming back? Does it make a difference? I recommend mile markers 48 and 56 on westbound I- 94, sheep and orchards, respectively.
Take something you love, something you hate, something you don’t understand. Put them in the cement mixer of your brain and write a poem. Below you’ll find a response to this promt from Becky Ventura.
Sparely, create a setting that doesn’t exist. Make sure there’s earth, air, water and fire in some analogous form. (Fire: matchstick, candle, hot sauce, shame.) This is the moment after something has happened. Do NOT be explainy. Write the poem/prose poem. No “I” allowed.
Write a poem that celebrates some special occasion, whether it be an epithalamium for a marriage; an elegy for someone who has passed away; or an ode which can commemorate anything from a battle to a hangnail. From Writing Poetry by David Starkey (no relation to Ringo)
This poem by Kristen Brace won the Barbara Sykes Memorial Humor Prize in PSM’s annual poetry contest. It appeard in the fall issue of Peninsula Poets.
From his book, Animal Husbandry.
Write about a time you mistook something for something else. Once I thought a person was flagging my car down in the dark, but it was a garbage bag wrapped around a tree. Today a branch blows in such a way that it looks like someone is walking past.
…”
I had a post up a couple of months ago having to do with writing about death. Someone complained that now was no time to do that. I disagree. Death is a fact of life and cannot be ignored. From In the Palm of Your Hand by Steve Kowit. Write a poem in which you are reminded that you too will one day die. It could be prompted by something you see (roadkill) or a song loved by someone who’s passed. Talk about the objects more than your feelings. They will come through.
Here’s an example by Ted Kooser, Death of a Dog.
Poetry Society of Michigan 