PhotoPlay and Prompt: A Ballad to Remember

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A timeless ballad can spark a memory. The song can whisk a listener back, and for a moment rewind the clock. Maybe it’s a time machine in the memory center of the brain, fueled by sound.

The ballad can be an unforgettable piece of our narrative identity.

Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s a poem by Monica (now a balladeer!) that made us smile:

I relished car rides, windows down,
air rushing, freeway speed.
Made faces with my brother (clown!),
heads stuck out in the breeze.

My index fingers pulled my mouth
to stretch the lips out wide,
and forced the eyelid corners down,
exposing whites of eyes.

Our older sisters (adult age)
would warn us with a grin:
Your silly face will freeze if you
make faces in the wind!

So now, though I still revel in
car windows opened wide,
I only make expressions when
my face is safe inside.

—by Monica Sharman
***
PHOTOPLAY PROMPT: A BALLAD TO REMEMBER— Listen to one of your favorite ballads. Allow the music to transport you to a place with a happy memory. Take a photograph of something that represents this memory. You’re creating a visual ballad. Feel free to share the song and happy story, if you’d like. You can even write a poem!

 

NOTE TO POETS: Looking for your Monday poetry prompt? On Photo Play weeks, it’s right here. Find inspiration from the photo in the post and respond with a poem. Leave your poem in the comment box. We’ll be reading. :)

Photo by Cali4beach. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure

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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!

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Comments

  2. Here is a ballad I wrote for my daughter, who would not eat good food when she was 12. It’s a parody of the Toby Keith song, “How Do You Like Me Now?” I used to have a photo that was mine, but I can’t find it, so this one will have to do:

    https://www.flickr.com/photos/125549887@N04/15180910842/

    How Do You Like My Chow

    — for my daughter Abby, who finally told me,
    “You make the best damn burgers.”

    Yeah, I could never make your tea,
    as sweet as it should be,
    so you always drank your Coke and Capri.
    You were always the picky one,
    three sugar spoons instead of none,
    but, I made unsweet tea, it wasn’t about me.

    I only wanted for you to be healthy,
    but you just ignored me somehow.
    You preferred all of your fast food and soft drinks
    and I didn’t eat like your crowd.

    How do you like my chow?!

    How do you like my chow,
    there on your paper plate,
    one of my best damn burgers,
    bet you just can’t wait.
    You wouldn’t listen to me,
    but I always dreamed about
    making you like good food.
    How do like my chow?

    Well, I made rice and tender peas,
    you turned your back on both of these,
    begged me to get you some nuggets and fries.
    Then I sautéed chicken and Key West shrimp,
    Chorizo, pork and flavored them,
    served you Paella with peas on the topside.

    You ate it like you hadn’t eaten for days
    and it was all I could do not to smile.
    Now, you like chopped salad with salmon and broccoli,
    it just took a long little while.

    How do you like my chow?!

    How do you like my chow,
    steaming there on your plate?
    Would you prefer some Wendy’s
    or maybe Chic-Fil-A?
    I’m glad you listened to me,
    ‘cause I always dreamed about
    making you like good food.
    How do you like my chow?

    Reply

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