Summer is cold drinks in bottles (and silvery cans). For some, it is camping and eating straight out of the pork ‘n beans can. Summer is love. And sometimes it is the ache of lost love.
What better time to pull out a Bottled and Canned playlist and pen a poem? Check out our August Bottled & Canned songs and try your hand at a…
Poetry Prompt
Choose a bottle or can (Snapple? Coca Cola? Campbell’s Chicken Soup?) and open it in a poem. How does the bottle or can feel? What does it look like? What sound does it make, and why have you chosen to open it? Are you sharing it with someone, or is this a solitude moment?
Thanks to our participants in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s a poem we enjoyed from Donna Falcone, who tried out one of our recent prompts:
Vinyl Virgin
it was my first time – i
bought it
with my
50 cents an hour
collected
in the jar in my room
I shamelessly paraded
barefooted and bold
belting out
spill the wine
at the top
of my 12 year old lungs
turning heads
and blushing their faces
as I broadcast words that meant nothing to me
because i only heard smooth tones
and a breezy beat and
felt the melty notes
sliding up my throat
on their way back into the atmosphere
Photo by Ian Mutto, Creative Commons license via Flickr.
Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
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Buy a year of Every Day Poems, just $5.99 — Read a poem a day, become a better poet. In August we’re exploring the theme Bottled & Canned.
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Maureen Doallas says
Such a fun poem, Donna, especially that first stanza.
Donna says
Thanks Maureen! Such a surprise to be featured! That was a fun one to write! Felt playful… 😉
Maureen Doallas says
Enjoy “A Matter of Taste”:
http://writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.com/2013/08/a-matter-of-taste-poem.html
Wendy Mauro says
Really nice, Donna! I can picture 12 year old you – this tickled me!
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Donna, wow girl, that is fabulous for so many reasons. Thank you for sharing your gift with us. It is a sweet treat.
Richard Maxson says
Pinot Noir
Perhaps it is your color,
roses and blackberries,
of the warm nights,
the young vintner
in the field with his love,
the body’s blush rising
into the dry air, flesh
ripe and taut beneath
the spare dress,
the press of skin—
Ah! the sighs, the aroma
of love, disrobed
along my tongue, tasting
even moonlight.
Donna says
Richard… nice! Such great pieces one at a time, like “my tongue tasting even moonlight” … and all together so complete.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Canned Hands
We played with the long green veins
In church
Ran our fingers down and up
While he preached the sermon
Children, restless
Intrigued by the vessels big and raised
Called them worms
Back in the days
Of her youth and ours
Now she reaches out for me
I count on them to be there
WIsh I could bottle it up
Or can it, place it on the top shelf
That warm feeling
We knit fingers, grasp and clasp
I want to save those ten digits, flesh and bone
Preserve the love found in them
Can the goodness
Preserve her love
Better than any bottled potions that the Rite Aid sells
A mother
And her aging love, suspended in time
Held
Donna says
Oh. So beautiful. And, the way I see it, so well preserved (an now additionally, because of this poem). Thank you for sharing this…
Glynn says
I asked myself, can I do this? And and I said, yes I can! http://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2013/08/can-factory.html
Donna says
Ah…. clearly you can… and you DID! Such a fun poem, Glynn! 🙂
davis says
poetry night
put some poetry on your plate
or eat it right out of the can
no need to heat it.
i brought a bottle of that new
raspberry cream soda
that turns your tongue red
for hours,
maybe even a day or so.
later we can get us some
big old pillows in the car
and go to the drive-in after dark.
http://nancemarie.blogspot.com/2013/08/tweetspeak-prompt-cans-and-bottles.html