through sunshine or rain-
we wake up in the morning
and start the day new
Also submitted for Open Link Night over at DVerse
How to participate:
Write a micro poem, micro fiction, or an original photograph inspired by the prompt and post it on twitter with #wispwrit.
Create a post with your poem, flash fiction, or original photograph inspired by the prompt. Make sure you link this post in your post and tag it with wispwrit.
For those of you who don’t know, over 3 years ago I started a Twitter writing prompt account “But A Moment” @wispwrit.
This was a one word prompt posted to inspire creativity. I was, unfortunately, only able keep it going for a few months due to personal reasons (I now know it was because of my depression and OCD getting in the way).
But I am ready to get back into the writing community and I have started the #wispwrit challenge once again! For right now it is only on Saturdays, but I have a feeling I will add another day soon, as waiting a week for the challenge is killing me!
So how does this work?
Each prompt will consist of a word or idea meant to inspire you to write something. It can be micro poetry or micro flash fiction posted right on your twitter account. Make sure you create a new tweet with the hashtag #wispwrit.
Please don’t limit yourself to micro!
If you feel inspired to write something longer you can create a blog post (please create a pinback in the post so people know where the prompt came from), Then tag it with #wispwrit and share it on twitter!
Please be sure to follow @wispwrit to be alerted of new prompts.
I will also try to post them here for those who don’t have twitter to participate as well.
Her paper dress
of elegant words
turned to ash
and as the burning truth swelled
the flames melted her plastic smile
gathering in pools
My flame has gone out
but I still smolder, waiting
to burn once again
My OCD reared it’s ugly head when I was a teenager, but I never knew what it was until I was twenty-six. I stumbled upon this poem I wrote…I’m not sure how old I was, 16 or 17 maybe? It is a very poorly written poem with forced rhyming but it captured how tortured I was. Knowing what I know now and reading this it is so clear to me what was going on, that it was OCD. But back then all I knew of OCD was hand washing, cleanliness, and order. I had no idea that OCD could be thoughts of family dying because I did something wrong, or fear of touch, or repetitive routines that took hours, or horrible thoughts of violence.
I am sharing this poem not because I think it’s great, trust me I don’t. But because if I knew what OCD really was back then I could have gotten help earlier. I share about OCD and what it’s really like so I might reach someone who is suffering and help them see why. And by knowing why they can finally seek the proper help they need.
I am the voice inside your head.
No. Do this,
or you might end up dead.
If you don’t do this,
your sister might die.
But if you do that,
someone might cry.
Make sure you check the stove,
before you leave the house
Because if gas leaks, it’s your fault
you stupid louse!
Don’t let people touch you.
Don’t let them get close.
Even though you want it,
you shall think it is gross.
You will never have peace
cuz I’ll always be there,
telling you to do things
cuz I really don’t care.
when you’re in a small room
and nothing is wrong
you will want to get out
you can’t be there too long.
To many people,
all in one place.
You start to breathe fast.
You become a nut case.
Maybe you’re crazy.
That’s what I think.
Now you think it too.
You are crazy and you stink.
I am the voice inside your head.
I will not rest until you are dead!
I saw her
sitting in the corner
she smiled at me
and I exhaled with relief
She does exist
I smiled back
but a single thought
a whisper She is extinct
made me doubt my eyes
and when I blinked
© Caitlin Gramley 2019
This poem was inspired by two prompts
I. Tale Weaver – #242 – Happiness “This week write about your thoughts on the notion of happiness.”
2. Quadrille #88: Extinct ” Write a poem consisting of 44 words, not including the title. There is no specific form or topic required., but your poem MUST contain the given word or some form of the word.”
No one told me it would be like this.
Waiting for silence…
for the space in between,
for the moments after.
No one told me that regret would be a feeling
I’d have to deal with,
feel guilty for,
be ashamed of.
No one told me I wasn’t cut out for this.
Maybe because that isn’t something you say,
or maybe they just didn’t know.
Like me, completely naive.
No one told me because it’s not something that’s talked about,
or maybe it’s just few and far between.
I’m the odd one out.
I can’t even bring myself to say it out loud.
No one told me it would be like this…
“Tonight, I want you to write a poem of anticipation.”