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 Entries to The Daily Poem Contest. |
It makes sense to keep them all in one place. 
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| Refugee Racked upon the shelves of history Evidence of lives destroyed Flung upon the desperate highways Under threat of death and worse Gone from home and livelihood Every hand a suitcase clutching Existence shrinks to these few things. Line count: 7 Form: Acrostic For The Daily Poem, 02.06.26 Prompt: Write an acrostic using the word that occurs with the illustration of stacked suitcases (in my case - refugee). |
| Cotton I’ve seen cotton in the parched fields of the Oklahoma panhandle, straggling, skeletal bushes against the red earth, and the soft white bolls scattered by a careless harvest, the remnants blown by the wind to line the road, like plastic bags abandoned in a New York garbage strike. An odd similarity, but the same chaotic lassitude in the dry heat of the plains and the bustling detritus of the city, our discards an offence against perception. Line count: 16 Free verse For The Daily Poem, 02.05.26 Prompt: Cotton, use the word “soft” in your poem. |
| Shoes Dirty old shoes deserve a rest dirty old shoes have stood the test dirty old shoes were never the best dirty old shoes bound for the west. Journey’s end and shuck them off like hats in honour so to doff old friends often choose to scoff common feelings serf or toff. Dirty old shoes are friends in need dirty old shoes the walker’s creed. Line count: 10 Rhymed aaaa bbbb cc (in what I call chant style) For The Daily Poem, 02.04.26 Prompt: Picture showing a hand holding dirty old shoes, ten lines exactly. |
| Crossbeam Oh Scottie, she never does quite blow with that staggering might in final series-ending conflagration we could call confirming destination, and never again to boldly go as interspacial wanderers to and fro, hiding disappointment as we find that time again and out of mind far from no man being before, it seems that humans evermore infest each universal corner still, this remaining our bitterest pill. E’en so, my Scottish engineer, adventure done, I’m leaving here. If you will kindly beam me up and, more than that, to fill my cup of gratitude at job well done, complete this task without the fun of mixing me with yon Vulcan sidekick (I know that you enjoy such tricks). Instead you bring us separate and so avoid more desperate attempts to undo intertwining - I find crossbeaming uninspiring. Line count: 24 Rhyming couplets For The Daily Poem, 02.03.26 Prompt: Crossbeam. |
| By Any Other Name German Shepherd in the snow, what I really want to know, if once you were an Alsatian, would spots make you a Dalmatian? And if you were a Croatian, might you be on a vacation? Strange indeed this assignation, herding sheep could be salvation. Changing names, it seems to me, is nothing but enormity - as Shakespeare said about the rose, it don’t mean nothing to the nose. Line count: 12 Rhymed aabb For The Daily Poem, 02.02.26 Prompt: Illustration of German Shepherd dog in the snow. |
| Becalmed Dreaming of the life I led, I found myself becalmed, abandoned by the wind of movement, eyes wide open in the doldrums, sides slapped by the listless swell, I heaved to and waited. “For what?” you ask and I pretend a vague direction, as if expecting any moment the saving breath of a fresh breeze and the hope of destination. I’ll not resort to rowing. Line count: 12 Free verse For The Daily Poem, 02.01.26 Prompt: Becalmed. |
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