It's the Poem-A-Week Challenge Discussion Thread

[Tzara]

3-D

I mailed them to you,
those lacy green silk panties
after I'd worn them
and when we finally met
you watched me put them back on.



Week 43, Poem 2, Total 51

Particularly sexy and elegant. I especially like that the usual trope of clothes coming off is reversed. This gives the poem a kind of two-fold sexiness: First that the narrator is nude as the poem begins, with the implications of why she is naked, and second that the observer (and the reader) watch the underwear being replaced, with the reminder that this is where they were befor being sent to the observer before the events of the poem.

Interesting variation on the usual theme.

 

[Angeline]

Particularly sexy and elegant. I especially like that the usual trope of clothes coming off is reversed. This gives the poem a kind of two-fold sexiness: First that the narrator is nude as the poem begins, with the implications of why she is naked, and second that the observer (and the reader) watch the underwear being replaced, with the reminder that this is where they were befor being sent to the observer before the events of the poem.

Interesting variation on the usual theme.

Thank you Tzara. The panty poems that preceded mine in the Tanka thread were very inspiring. Ahem.

And btw I love your poem The Haunting. The narrator's matter-of-fact tone belies the truly spooky content described. Of course the experiences we bring to reading a poem affect the way we engage with it. And I say this because that movie, The Haunting, the 1963 version based (like the 1999 remake) on Shirley Jackson's novella The Haunting of Hill House, scared the bejeebers outta me when I was a kid. Even today thinking of Claire Bloom and Julie Harris clutching each other's hands in terror while the bedroom walls *breathed* and the doorknob slowly turned kinda freaks me out. So thanks for helping me remember that. I think.

 

[Tzara]

And btw I love your poem The Haunting. The narrator's matter-of-fact tone belies the truly spooky content described. Of course the experiences we bring to reading a poem affect the way we engage with it. And I say this because that movie, The Haunting, the 1963 version based (like the 1999 remake) on Shirley Jackson's novella The Haunting of Hill House, scared the bejeebers outta me when I was a kid. Even today thinking of Claire Bloom and Julie Harris clutching each other's hands in terror while the bedroom walls *breathed* and the doorknob slowly turned kinda freaks me out. So thanks for helping me remember that. I think.

I happen to be reading The Haunting of Hill House right now and thought about titling the poem "Hill House," but also wanted to reference the film. I'd wanted to use a trailer from the 1963 version in the title link, but it seemed rather stilted so used the trailer for the remake instead. Though the poem is more about a generic haunted house, I was thinking more of the Jackson novel than of something like The Amityville Horror, which I haven't read or seen.

This whole Hallowe'en thing is kind of fun.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Thank you Tzara. The panty poems that preceded mine in the Tanka thread were very inspiring. Ahem.

Ahem.

 

[Tzara]

This Petty Pace

Del was leonine, a lazy lion
of a man with an unruly white mane
and a slow smile that belied sharp wit,
propensity to swat away small talk
and politesse.

We called him Coach,
gave him a T-shirt
that said Head of Scoring
because by God he was.

Academia is a cesspit:
put 100 professors together
at a conference: 86 of them
are fucking someone else's spouse
while 10 are passed out drunk.

The other 4? Let's assume
they're working or asleep
in solitary beds because
I'm an optimist.

I was faithful to you then
before I understood the futility
of trying. Foolish me.

I should have taken Del
or Jason for the memories
that might warm me
in these silvery years.




Week 45, Poem 1, Total 53

I'm curious about the title of this piece. The speech from which it is drawn is fatalistic about the value or importance of life in general, whereas the poem seems more simply cynical about both academia and the narrator's choosing fidelity over indulgence. Not that the cynicism isn't warranted, but it doesn't quite seem to be quite as despairing about life as Macbeth's speech.

Having originally intended to become a college professor, I empathize with the sentiments about the social structure of academia and am continually grateful that I ended up doing something else with my life. My regrets about missed erotic experience are more due to my social anxiety, but they are still regrets. So I quite like the poem, but I guess I don't quite follow why that title was selected.

Not that it matters, of course.

 

[Angeline]

I'm curious about the title of this piece. The speech from which it is drawn is fatalistic about the value or importance of life in general, whereas the poem seems more simply cynical about both academia and the narrator's choosing fidelity over indulgence. Not that the cynicism isn't warranted, but it doesn't quite seem to be quite as despairing about life as Macbeth's speech.

Having originally intended to become a college professor, I empathize with the sentiments about the social structure of academia and am continually grateful that I ended up doing something else with my life. My regrets about missed erotic experience are more due to my social anxiety, but they are still regrets. So I quite like the poem, but I guess I don't quite follow why that title was selected.

Not that it matters, of course.

It matters to me!

As you know (cause I've mentioned it over the years) I struggle with titles. And you're right the speech from which I drew it is outsize in scope compared to the content of my poem. Macbeth's struggles, his descent into madness and mayhem and his sense of futility about life is way bigger than me observing that a whole lotta screwing around happens at academic gatherings.

The truth is I recently reread Macbeth (thinking to myself, Angeline you think *you* have problems....there's nothing like Shakespearian tragedy to show one that things could be a whole lot worse lol). So the play is currently stuck in my head. I was also thinking of your poem Quotidian, which I like a lot. My title and yours are sort of in the same ball park, so it was partly my reading and partly the inspiration your poem gave me.

One of the many magical things about this forum is how our writing inspires and can kick start each other's poems.

 

[kreemi_pi]

PUBIC SERVICE NOTICE

As your King I have decided Likes are underrated. Think about it, somebody likes your poem… LIKES! Yessss mmmmm ahhhhh

Saw youse over in Chat yo

 

[kreemi_pi]

@kreemi_pi,
If I my be so presumptuous...

Could I but lie as you wish, your grace drawing my sigh,
Would you punish me for the lie, as my lust meets your eye?

If the 'Petit Mort' I must suffer, let it be at your hand,
Would you not grant a dying wish, be it ever so grand?

To taste your lips but once, to feel your silken skin,
Could I ever dare hope, that you may let me in?

The heat I crave to feel, would you better have me kneel?
To worship at your altar, what would you allow me feel?

Tell me what in my dreams, should my thoughts take course?
Would "Le Petit Mort" be my only prize and from me your divorce?

Most respectfully and my thanks for the inspiration,
D.

Lovely

 

[kreemi_pi]

Lovely

No, it was supposed to be a one-word poemoji

 

[Angeline]

I very much like Tzara's recent sonnet The Track and 42Belows' poem Even on Thanksgiving. A boulevard of men in cars. They have a common subject (in fact Tzara's poem inspired 42's; an occurrence that happens here often as we read and consider each other's poems). Though both poems are expository they're also filled with imagery that brings the scene to life. I found them moving and lovely in a bittersweet way: 42's setting the scene on Thanksgiving especially so for me.

They also brought to mind this song, which evokes the same emotional response in me.

 

[SamanthaBehgs]

Will there be a 2026 version of this challenge? I really want to try this starting from the beginning, since we're already so close to the end of 2025, but if there isn't going to be a new one, well, then I might as well just finish out the year.

 

[Angeline]

Will there be a 2026 version of this challenge? I really want to try this starting from the beginning, since we're already so close to the end of 2025, but if there isn't going to be a new one, well, then I might as well just finish out the year.

Yes there will be a 2026 Poem-a-Week Challenge. There will likely be other challenges throughout the year as well as all the ongoing ones. Glad you'll be joining in.

 

[Ash999]

This is One stolen from Modern Maths....
https://ibb.co/DHvT7Fwn

 

[DeMont]

DATE NIGHT

Friday finally falls
the night is mine
(or is it his?)
date night's finally here

My body yearns
for touch on skin
fingers slowly stroke
ecstatic lightning bolts

What to wear
it matters, yes
bare some skin
to preview his gift

Lingerie
think it through
pink or black or red
or virgin bridal white

Sheer or lacy
hug my curves
lead his fingers
where they please me most

My body weeps
it drips it flows
tear drops glisten
in between my thighs

How much longer
can I wait
he'll be here
any moment

Footsteps
doorbell rings
heart explodes
date night's finally here

@kreemi_pi,
My dear Mizz K, the pictures you paint are evocative to say the least. I am, however, striving to come up a just response. in the meantime i'll just let fantasy takeover for a little while if you don't mind.
Respectfully yours,
D

"My body weeps
it drips it flows
tear drops glisten
in between my thighs"

 

[42BelowsBack]

Will there be a 2026 version of this challenge? I really want to try this starting from the beginning, since we're already so close to the end of 2025, but if there isn't going to be a new one, well, then I might as well just finish out the year.

Hey Welcome, jump in now. Splash about. And do it again next year.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Yes there will be a 2026 Poem-a-Week Challenge. There will likely be other challenges throughout the year as well as all the ongoing ones. Glad you'll be joining in.

Nooooo Um, can I finish my challenge next year. Like one plus one equally is two?

 

[42BelowsBack]

I very much like Tzara's recent sonnet The Track and 42Belows' poem Even on Thanksgiving. A boulevard of men in cars. They have a common subject (in fact Tzara's poem inspired 42's; an occurrence that happens here often as we read and consider each other's poems). Though both poems are expository they're also filled with imagery that brings the scene to life. I found them moving and lovely in a bittersweet way: 42's setting the scene on Thanksgiving especially so for me.

They also brought to mind this song, which evokes the same emotional response in me.

Ahem at first I liked your post. Then I realized you’d mentioned me and my poems. Ahem, then I realized wtf am I doing?? Give this post a WOW I mean why not. Ahem it mentions me in the same sentence as tzara yeahhhh made it

 

[Angeline]

This is One stolen from Modern Maths....
https://ibb.co/DHvT7Fwn

This very creative and interesting Venn Diagram poem was shared by Ash originally in the Poem-a-Week thread. Check it out and if you're so inclined try one yourself.

Thank you Ash for this and your many contributions to the forum.

 

[kreemi_pi]

Check out "I Have Returned" by @Aquelle

An unusual and catchy structure and rhythm

 

[Aquelle]

Check out "I Have Returned" by @Aquelle

An unusual and catchy structure and rhythm

Awwww blushing

 

[Wonderer67]

I can’t write for shit
No inspiration
And afraid to start
I stay away
Feeling non poetic

Where did all my good ideas go?
September seems so far away
When poems fell outta my head

FF to the present
An occasional line here or there
Nuthin great
And no grand idea
Just writing raw
In the white box at the bottom of the thread
I stare At it
Unhappy
Change a few things

Fuck it
I press “post reply”
Profoundly unhappy

 

[SamanthaBehgs]

I can’t write for shit
No inspiration
And afraid to start
I stay away
Feeling non poetic

Where did all my good ideas go?
September seems so far away
When poems fell outta my head

FF to the present
An occasional line here or there
Nuthin great
And no grand idea
Just writing raw
In the white box at the bottom of the thread
I stare At it
Unhappy
Change a few things

Fuck it
I press “post reply”
Profoundly unhappy

What does it say about me that I kinda love what you put here? Not because you feel unhappy, but because I think it's a good expression of a common emotion?

 

[Angeline]

Arrrggghhh Poetica*

1. Thou shalt write a poem each week, whether thy cares to or not.

2. Thy poem may not be good, but thou shalt care less for quality, more for punctuality.

3. If thou be woman and write about fucking, men shalt be drawn to thee. They shalt buzz like bees unto pollen. If thou be male and write of fucking? Fugeddaboutit.

4. Ahem.

5. Thou shalt consider thy line breaks ceaselessly, moving words and punctuation back and forth in a neverending game.

6. Thou shalt count syllables and stresses in endless struggle and misunderstanding unless thy name is Tzara.

7. Thou shalt smite thyself for adverbs and gerunds, less so for adjectives.

8. Thou shalt exult thy nouns and verbs: whither nouns goest verbs shall follow.

9. Thou shalt despair because every poem thou reads is better than thine or exult because every poem but thine is shite. There shalt be no in-between.

10. Thy shalt watch thy calendar and write accordingly. Ahem.





*With apologies to Horace, 42Below and everyone who reads this.

 

[Tzara]

6. Thou shalt count syllables and stresses in endless struggle and misunderstanding unless thy name is Tzara.

Well, syllables separate phonemes,
The basis of language. By no means
Should poets befuddle
And leave verse a muddle
Of undeconstructed Foucault scenes.

Now stresses give language its rhythm.
In poetry, though, there's a schism.
Our Formalists like them,
Free versers despise them—
They're split like light rays through a prism.

It's prosody that this is known as,
As singular as Leibniz's monads.
You like it or not so
(The topic is fraught, yo)
But fertile as lit'rature's gonads.

 

[Tzara]

3. If thou be woman and write about fucking, men shalt be drawn to thee. They shalt buzz like bees unto pollen. If thou be male and write of fucking? Fugeddaboutit.

When women write poems on fucking
Or, just as bad, ones about sucking,
That's when men, spouting sleaze,
Inundate them with pleas,
And photos of dicks they'll be ducking.

But men, when on intercourse writing,
Won't find many chicks who'll be fighting
To flirt, flash, and swear
That they'd love an affair.
The poems are not quite inviting.

This puzzles the gentlemen, ladies.
They offer champagne and Mercedes
As their smut, finely wrought,
Hasn't brought them but naught.
Their sex life left somewhere in Hades.

Perhaps, guys, we need to be gentle.
Seduction's primarily mental.
Try just being more real
(And a little genteel)
And, honestly, more fundamental.