The opening of Frank P. Thomas’ book “How to Write the Story of Your Life” (Publisher: Writer’s Digest Book, an imprint of F+W Publications) reads as such:

“HOW DO YOU VIEW your life?

Far too modestly perhaps. Yet your life is important. It is as unique as your fingerprints. It is a precious piece of time that should not be forgotten. There has only been one life lived like yours in all time, and only you can leave an accurate account of it.”

So? How do you view your life? In the first of a twenty part series of prompts, we will see just who you think you are. When finished, we will have written a memoir in poetry.


This week Marie and I ask you to write the poem as an acrostic, using your full name as the subject. The title of your poem should be “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, (Your Name Here)?”

Your poem should touch on your life, or some aspect of it until now. Remember, the focus is you! Tell us. Who do you think you are?



Merciful.  She finds it easy to be merciful, as she experiences daily the mercy of her God.

Approachable. Welcoming eyes and ready smile … not peculiar enough to frighten, nor so lovely as to intimidate.

Redeemed.  Sinner-deemed-sinless, a debt she can’t pay.

Indebted.  Humbly and deeply thankful for parents who taught much, and loved regardless; an abundance of encouraging, uplifting, loyal friends and extended family; and mostly her Creator, whose unyielding love, grace, and mercy breathe her very existence.

Enthusiastic. Taught by her father that “Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.”


Enthralled.  Captivated by life, love, and words.

Lazy.  Often rising with the sun to walk the beach in Naples three decades ago, she now lazily hits the snooze three or four or six times rather than rise to take a short morning walk.   

Encourager.  “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up.”  1 Thessalonians 5:11 

Nonna.  Her favorite vocation, hands down. 

Athletic.   …and sometimes, she blatantly lies. 😉


Gullible.  Too quick to say, “Really? Wow!” then later slap forehead with the all-too-familiar, “Oh. Duh.” 

Observant.  Truly, about as observant as she is athletic. (Read, “Blatantly lies.”)

Oldfashioned.  Dreams of returning to days when morals were more than just folklore. 

Dandelion lover.  … but only in poetry and fields.  Not in her yard. 😉

© Marie Elena Good – 2012



Wildly weird and wonderful,
Another in a
Long line of like named gents.
Taught to respect his elders and teach his children.
Even when he is at a loss for words, he’ll
Regale you with his verbosity.

Who is this monstrosity of poet prowess to think he could
Overpower the world of metered rhyme by his sheer numbers?
Just put it this way,
The day he is silenced is the day
Another Walt has been relegated to dust.
Never faint of heart; he can’t start to explain
It. But to name it, his style would elicit a smile and make you think of the
Kinetic poetics he spews. Then you might have him pegged!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012

P.S.  CORRECTION: The acrostic form  is a requirement of the prompt.  There is a method to Walt’s madness that sometimes my partner doesn’t even understand at first.  A little discipline never hurts!

I stand (actually sit) corrected! 😀  ~ meg

Oh, stand up and take a bow! My madness ebbs and flows!

420 thoughts on “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? – PROMPT # 66

  1. Michael Grove

    M eticulous and caring.
    I mpatient yet willing to wait.
    C alm, cool and collected.
    H eart of gold.
    A huge sports fan.
    E nchanted spirit.
    L oves everyone unconditionally.

    G ood friend.
    R everent and spiritual.
    O ften seen fishing or boating.
    V ery competitive.
    E ndearing

    By Michael Grove


    And the question is……
    (To be answered as an acrostic!)

    What an unusual question?
    Horribly tricky, I’d say.
    Oh dear! I’d better get started…..
    Don’t want to sit here all day!
    Often I’ve asked the same question
    Yet never received a reply.
    Only vague hints at an answer,
    Usually just a bit wry.
    The fact is, I haven’t a notion;
    How can I have any idea?
    I’m too close to the subject, for certain.
    Near, and yes, more than just near.
    Knowing oneself isn’t easy
    Yearning for truth wastes my day.
    Outward appearances don’t help;
    Useless to say yea or nay.
    Am I good, am I bad, am I middling?
    Reality says I’m all three.
    Each one of us is such a mixture!
    Besides, I’m too near me to see.
    Regarding myself in the mirror
    Each day is a bit of a bore
    Now you ask me this difficult question!
    Don’t think I can take any more.
    And, with that, she refused an encore!

  3. oh, I can’t believe you tricked me into doing this!

    WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Poetic Bloomings #66

    M ellow as a rotting melon
    A rrogant beyond belief and reason
    R aw and rigid as barbarian
    I nterested in plenty things, ignorant of most
    Y oung in spirit, yawning all the time
    A mbitious to leave a trace, futile.

    K ilograms of tears, kilotons of explosion – all too easily spent
    O utstanding when it comes to theory
    L oving mainly herself
    E nthusiastic to dive in regular depressions
    V ery hard to please, impossible to live with
    A fter all that above, should we really care?

    2012, Mariya Koleva

  4. Connie Lee Peters

    C reative? Ah, yes, thanks mostly to my husband.
    O pen-minded? Does having a hole in your head count?
    N ervous? When I speak in public or when my kids are in a foreign country.
    N arcissistic? A tad. Don’t writers have to be?
    I ntelligent? Yes, except STM’s about shot.
    E motional? Yes. Makes for a good poet.

    L oving? Yes, just don’t bore me.
    E ncouraging? Yes, most of the time.
    E nthusiastic? Depends. Writing, family and traveling? Yes Housework? No

    P atient? As a caregiver I have to be, but I’m not always.
    E nergetic? I’m working on it.
    T alented? In some ways. Writing? Yes Technology? No
    E mphatic? About God’s goodness.
    R ealistic? Not always.
    S imple? Definitely.

  5. B ecause I loathe
    A crostics, and yet
    R ealize the large project is a
    B rilliant idea ( or
    A t the very least, a
    R eally good one) I’m gonna write something, just not in
    A crostic form, okay?

    You kids…a-freaking-mazing

    • That was my response too, Barbara. I hate acrostics, but love the, once again, great idea that Marie and Walt have come up with. I can’t wait to get to know my fellow poets better!

    • who do you think you are barbara ellen young?

      Because you ask Who? and use the word “think” I
      am the person who
      reasons: Not What, Where, How, When, Why
      but: Who? Which is indefinable. I
      am me. Me. Just this
      recombined chemical equation of dinners
      and chocolate and unsweet iced tea
      excited by jet engines passing right to
      left and a blue-black cat passing
      left to right, who wrote
      enough of an answer the first time, but
      yet enough, having left
      out the crack in the vase. It doesn’t hold water, is
      useless for hope, and so
      needs dried herbs
      glass marbles, and artifice.

    • Does anyone really love acrostics? Not me. They intimidate. But, Barbara, your first was such a hoot. And then you get to the meat of the thing as an aside comment. Loved it. Great job. Why you ever learned to dislike the form is questionable, since you do it so well, is beyond me.

      Me? I’m not good at it at all, but with practice, I might not stink, but get better at it by reading poets like you.

        • Folks on this site amaze me. There are people who do complex rhyme/meter forms with such grace it is as if they just opened their mouths and sang on key. AND carrying meaning. If I had to do the acrostic with even lines and/or meter, I’d be up a creek.

          • Barbara–practice, the occasional whiff of luck, and good examples are all I use to approximate what counts as poetry around here. I should practice more. Luck is iffy at best, but there’s always great examples.

      • Claudette, no one more intimidated by them than me. But that being said, the challenge right out of the trapezoid put poets on the spot. Am you are all delivering what was expected. Honesty and humility. Every life is valuable, whether though the eyes of others or our own. We hear what others tell us about our ourselves. But we hardly hear ourselves. A great start to a very promising project. Every story worth telling! Walt.

        • Aw, thank you, Walt. I keep telling myself that each day. One of these days it might just soak in. I’ll keep your kind words in mind, too, from now on.

    • Very good. Enjoyed that approach very much. I’m not particularly comfortable proclaiming my more likable traits – I seem to go negative to avoid embarrassment. 🙂

      • I’m right there with you. But then, my flaws are so glaring they are an easy target. The good stuff is pretty ordinary, and dull. It’s just what you’re SUPPOSED to be, like saying that you breathe well.


    Looking for answers,
    Independent to a fault
    Angry at injustice.

    Searching for truth,
    Wanting peace.
    In case its needed.

  7. Pingback: Who Do You Think You Are, Hannah Elizabeth Gosselin? « Metaphors and Smiles

  8. Who Do You Think You Are, Hannah Elizabeth Gosselin?

    How I see me
    And who I really am
    Nearly lines up with how others see me, I suppose.
    Now, I don’t mean to say your impressions are completely correct
    Although, I won’t say that you’re all together wrong either but…
    Here inside this sweet and bitter brain, there lie silken scars in this soul.
    Every life has fault lines and history and that’s where I try to leave them
    Lingering in limbo land, though, they sometimes surface;
    Instilled with an ancient anger or a sudden sadness.
    Zeroed in upon by life’s happen-stance,
    A telling-trick to get my heart to react
    Boundaries being tried and tested;
    Enlightenment just on the other side of self-control.
    Toll been paid already and all I need to do is claim it,
    Hold this peace that is mine to harbor
    Give from this space, grace, which has been spilled so freely;
    Open the gift of Love and live now, thrive for real,
    Singing my birth-name’s real true meaning…full of grace mercy and prayer.
    Sepia, yes, I’ll be a sepia memory sometime,
    Embossed, a blue pressed forget-me-not between pages
    Living in the bound book of tinged-time.
    Inspired, I’ll have tried to live each slipping second
    Nurtured by nature and mindful of muse.

    ©Hannah Gosselin 7/29/12

  9. Who Do You Think You Are, Laurie Kolp?

    Lover of God, family, nature
    Alfalfa sprouts and broccoli
    Upright pianos; black umbrellas
    Reminders of New York and Florida
    In the rain, unexpected yet
    Equally predictable.

    Kind to all, sensitive at times
    Over-achiever; thinks it’s the
    Little things in life that matter
    Prays for world peace, acceptance.

  10. Awesome prompt and series idea!!! I’m looking forward to this, ( mostly), mostly because delving in to self can sometimes be painful if we’re really being honest so this is some meaningful ground we’re encroaching upon and I’m grateful for it.

    Especially grateful for you two hosts…your acrostic poems are both so totally filled with honest bits of you guys!!

    Warm smiles to all!

  11. Fun prompt, great project! I am only just now learning who I am, so I will simply enjoy everyone else’s. 🙂 Hen

  12. Who Do You Think You Are, Kelly Donadio?

    Keenly aware of her need for God to
    Envelope her life and
    Lead her on His path.
    Loves her children and spouse beyond words,
    Yearns to keep them all close.

    Demonstrates love by doing.
    Once you hurt her, you will
    Never get the chance to do it
    Again. Very protective of all
    Donadios (and some others, too).
    Intuitive, cautious, detailed,
    Oraganized, happy and blessed!

    © KED 2012

  13. Walt and Marie, I can see both of your personalites in the way you sculpted and expressed Who You Think You Are. Revealing and Fun!

    Who, Indeed?

    Another ordinary face in the crowd
    Needing, feeding, reading, writing
    Inside out, from the bottom up.
    Cleaving to scripture
    Especially in the dirty dusty

    Scrambles and brambles of life.
    Hopelessly or hilariously creative
    Except when the shadows speak.
    Reflective, run-of-the-mill, a bit sloppy, a bit slow.
    Intensive, pensive, persuasive, procrastinator.
    Domestically dole, drab, and simple.
    Ardent empathizer and advocate for those
    Nameless, voiceless targets of wolves in sheep clothing.

  14. Who do you think you are, Marian J. Veverka?

    Mom to everybody who needs one, millions,
    And maybe more sense that you are
    Ready to come to the rescue
    Anyone is lost, frightened, lonely. Day or
    Night, if you see anyone who you can help you will try to do your best,

    Joyful, joyful, that chorus from Beethoven beats in your soul, you seek

    Victory over
    Evil, and you will try to help any
    Victims whom you
    Encounter, against all odds, you are
    Ready to help in any way that you
    Know how, (even when you know nothing) you still try to offer
    Aid and comfort.

    • I felt this as a marching poem, though I don’t know why. Perhaps it reflects how you approach life as a marcher for those in need, those who cannot march for themselves. This hit me as powerful, Marian. Thank you so much. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

    • “Joyful, joyful” beats in your soul … FABULOUS. Also “Ready to help in any way that you know how (even when you know nothing)…” Just lovely, Marian.

      Marie Elena

  15. I remember writing these for other children and getting theirs of me, but I never tried writing one for myself. I am enjoying reading everyone elses, now, so here goes:

    Who do you think you are, Susan Lisbeth Chast?

    Sweet, maybe, but sassy, sincere, and susceptible
    under the surface, unusually sensitive,
    she seeks softness, strength, and sagacity
    all at once at age sixty plus years,
    now that nuance nags and needs and

    Loves her last lines lying
    in intense poems issued from her
    because she bases her busy-ness
    every hour in every day in
    the tension ‘tween this time and–
    heavens! humorless homilies

    carelessly and quite
    humbly admitting humor is not her home
    submersed as she
    tends to be in turbulent times.

    • This telling-tale poem was fascinating, Susan. I have experienced some of what you speak and can understand that last stanza so well. Great job here. Loved it.

      • “Sweet, maybe, but sassy, sincere, and susceptible
        under the surface, unusually sensitive,
        she seeks softness, strength, and sagacity . . .”

        And all this illiteration! Poetic and revealing.

    • “now that nuance nags and needs and
      Loves her last lines lying
      in intense poems issued from her
      because she bases her busy-ness
      every hour in every day in
      the tension ‘tween this time and–
      heavens! ”

      Love what this states and how it reads too Susan!!! Excellent acrostic of you!!

    • Marie Elena’s wish for you is mine also; being of roughly the same “vintage” I can appreciate maybe where you find yourself just now and your lines ring pretty close to home … well-written Susan and also as Marie Elena said, your alliteration is really lovely.

  16. Who Do You Think You Are, Claudette J. Young?

    Clearly I’m not clever enough to
    Lift complete prompt guidelines
    Already posted, or read closely enough
    Under proper conditions onsite.
    Depending on day of the week or
    Evening’s fatigue levels, I seem
    To vacillate between marginal
    Talents and those that create
    Emotional upheaval in the reader.

    Justice gets served, hot or cold.

    Years of self-doubt flourished within,
    Often leaving behind residues willing to
    Undermine all my fingers touched,
    Never acknowledging that sometimes
    Great was expressed as something good enough.

    © Claudette J. Young, 2012

  17. Michael Grove Two

    M ight not still be hanging out here
    I f not for dumb luck or the Grace.
    C ould have been a doctor or an architect,
    H e taught college, built homes, wrote mortgages instead.
    A major league baseball player was
    E asily his dream profession but would at
    L east have been an umpire if not for the

    G lasses he has worn since he was five.
    R elentless in his pursuit
    O f peace of mind he has become
    V ery adept at answering but never,
    E ver asking the right questions.

    By Michael Grove

  18. Pingback: Poetic Bloomings Begins Memoir Series | Two Voices, One Song

  19. Who do you think you are, Andrew Kreider?

    After all, it’s
    Not exactly like I
    Do things in the
    Right order. If you
    Ever met me, you
    Would soon wonder what

    Kind of crazy fool
    Reads poems on street corners
    Eats too much chocolate
    Ice cream and simply
    Doesn’t worry how he looks.
    Evidently, I’m still
    Reclaiming the childhood I never had.

  20. My first time at anything like this, here goes:-


    Traveller on the journey of life
    Explorer of the mysteries of the mind
    Rebellious in a quiet way
    Eager to learn all she can every day
    Spiritual, courageous, loving and kind
    Always open to possibilities.

  21. Marie/Walt – love the idea and the poems.

    “In the first of a twenty part series of prompts, we will see just who you think you are. When finished, we will have written a memoir in poetry.”

    What a great idea.

  22. Man, the letter “Z” makes this one hard! Great prompt though, ME & Walt!

    Who do you think you are, Elizabeth A. Johnson?

    Even I can write an acrostic, this
    List of who I think I am:
    I am a disciple of Christ,
    Zealous to know my Redeemer better.
    And I am a writer, passionately
    Blogging at DogFurandDandelions,
    Even on Mondays. And,
    These are the days before kids:
    Homemaking and husband-tending

    Are my joys in this life.

    Just don’t make me wear pink
    Or go shopping. Rather, let me
    Handcraft your birthday card, or
    Nurture my love of words. Or let me
    Shadow the sun in all fifty states,
    Or learn how to cook in Italy. But
    Never ever try to stereotype me.

  23. Who Do You Think You Are, mike Maher.?

    Maybe it was all the graffiti on the small pile of ashes that made them so talkative,
    Its message shouted and permanent but relatively unclear. As usual.
    Keep it down, Nietzsche. My life is no place for the pathos of distance.
    Eventually, even my pathos will grow up to be a big blue bird.

    My name is too short to be used as a mnemonic, too dense to be a flotation device.
    Another poem with your name all over it? Are you as exhausted by you as we are?
    Hell yes. Grayness is heavy, heaviness rough on the shoulders and knees.
    Estar-Sorry-to be a star is to know one day you will burn out.
    Resentments and regrets take time to fade, but they too burn.

  24. Marie – I’m totally with you on the (non)observant thing! And “Dandelion lover,” well, of course that made me smile! 🙂

    Walt – loved the phrase “kinetic poetics.” As always, I absolutely love your own unique rhythm.

  25. You all are amazing me, and making me smile. Funny how each poem so far has made me nod in agreement of who I see you to be, and your individual styles shine right through an acrostic. Wow.


    Marie Elena

    • I second this statement through and through, my friend!!!

      Such telling pieces and yes, Walt, “GENIUS PROMPTING MACHINE!!”

      Smiles to ALL!!

      Gone for the day to help Grammy pack…this is the week…she’ll be moved tomorrow and then sis and I will continue to make headway at her house for the painters to get in there!! Soon all will be settled!

      I look forward to reading more of you all…I very randomly picked and commented so I know I missed a lot of brilliant work out here.

  26. Who Do You Think You Are, Miss R.?

    I prefer it that way,
    So I shall remain
    Suspiciously named

    Regardless of persuasion.

    (Actually, I might persuade myself to write something more revealing later on if I get the time. We’ll see.)


    Kittenish wonder,
    A child at heart,
    Thinking creatively and
    Hoping always.
    Everyone is good,
    Regardless of deeds.
    Insisting inncocence,
    Never unforgiving,
    Enjoying life where I can.

    Sometimes, though…
    Wondering why.
    Enduring pain.
    Nothing lasts forever…
    So remember to laugh.
    Kindness goes a long way
    In the scheme of things.

  28. Who Do You Think You Are, RJ?

    Just a

    Lady who is
    Rocambolesque*. She
    Kyacts** at
    Every possible opportunity, since her muse is such a
    Noctivagant***, which pretty much says it all.


    *per WWFTD, fabulous, fantastic
    **per WWFTD, clowning at work
    ***per WWFTD, wandering by night

  29. Who Do You Think You Are, Janet Ruth Martin?

    Just a simple girl, daughter, sister, mother, wife
    Amazed every day at God’s gifts in my life
    Night-owl when seduced by a word or a thought
    Educated? By the world’s standards I’m not
    That’s me

    Rolling pin collector, lover of rhyme
    Under the tutelage of a teacher called Time
    Thinker, often quiet with sudden bits of crazy
    Homebody; my favorite wild-bloom is a daisy

    Mother and wife; sometimes I can’t believe it; I’m humbled and awed
    And I would run scared, but for the patience of God
    Rover of woodland and nature’s perfection
    Thankful for moments of tender reflection
    Incredibly blessed; undeservedly so
    Normal? Nerd? Nut? Maybe, but by the grace of God I go…

    Thank-you Walt and Marie, for this prompt! Great idea. Loved your poems.

    I can’t WAIT to return and get to ‘know’ each one of you a little better. Right now duty calls. …you know, good-night hugs, lunches to be made for people going to work…see you tomorrow!

  30. Who do you think you are, Sheryl K Oder?

    Serious at least
    Half the time.
    Energetic and driven,
    Rarely. If you
    Yawn, she will do

    Klutzy at times
    And often
    Yields to wordplay.

    Rhythm or rhyme.

  31. “Who Do You Think Your Are, Jacqueline Casey?”

    Jacqueline: shy, somewhat timorous type;
    Appears as bold; when questioning the hype.
    Cautious her heart, lest she be called the fool
    Quaintly respects so she may break the rule.
    Untiring her quest once she proceeds
    Energy maintained, though she may bleed.
    Lives in the clouds for the unattainable
    Irritates as the fly; quite unstable.
    Neglects her feelings if eyes upon others.
    Expresses a love that comes from mother.

    Careless of Time, her hours are spent
    Artfully dodging disappointment.
    Sold her heart for “bees in a bonnet”
    Early, her old soul dreamed upon it.
    Yearning, she overran her sonnet.

  32. Who Are You, Sara McNulty?

    S arcastic, silly, sexy, super sense of humor
    A nimal lover and rescuer, aquamarine birthstone
    R eader of crime novels and poetry
    A nxiety attack sufferer

    M y own person, moved to tears easily, mango lover, makeup nut
    c rossword puzzle solver, cook, colored purple
    N ew York born tattooed on my heart
    U nderstanding
    L oyal friend, long-haired
    T olerant, touchy
    Y oung at heart

  33. Who Do You Think You Are, Michael Richard Grove?

    M ore of a whisper than a shout.
    I ’d rather try than ever have to say
    C an’t or won’t or didn’t even
    H ave a chance. I’ll give it my
    A ll, no matter what the task is.
    E very now and then I find myself
    L earning something new about

    R ight and wrong and that gray area
    I n between. I’m such a proud father of
    C ourtney and Jordan who seem to
    H ave grown up quickly and are flying
    A round while my love for Jana binds our
    R elationship for all time. My friend and
    D og, Jake is in his twilight but is still such a

    G ood old boy. Yes, and a loving son of
    R onald and Vivian. I am me because of
    O thers but mostly them. Thank them for the
    V alues that they instilled in me
    E ach and every day of my youth.

    By Michael Grove

  34. Who do you think you are – MARJORY MARIE THOMPSON

    Motivated by challenges
    Analytical and artistic,
    Rich in non-material things,
    Joy in relationship with my Lord,
    Old fashion in dress, music and worship,
    Ready to retire.
    Yet to reach full potential.

    Mechanically and mathematically inclined.
    Author of self-published novel,
    Raised to nurture leadership abilities,
    Introverted, depend on God and med’s to combat depression
    Earned respect in ‘men’s field’ of house design and drafting.

    Talented is various art-forms,
    Hungry to know God’s will,
    Overweight 
    Sensitive, compassionate,
    Open to learn new things,
    Need reassuring – low self-esteem.

    • What an interesting prompt and promise of more interesting related ones to follow. Am delighted to get better aquainted with the garden members I have so far read and look forward to reading all of them and commenting – but, it is late and my machine (server) is acting up. Be back in a day or so. MMT

      • “M” and “P” have returned!

        Thank you, Mike for noting the absence of the two truants. I had not noticed and could not figure out what you meant. After Marie’s added comment, I reread my post, and went looking for the truants..
        They were taking a short break.
        ‘M’ felt over-worked and like a good buddy, ‘P’ tagged along for company. We discussed going AWOL. [I heard ‘M’ comment that, it appeared that I had run out of ‘P’].
        But, now back to finishing things up.
        M = Mother of two adult sons (a daughter-in-law and one grand-daughter)
        P = PATIENT, acquired of necessity over time
        S (added) = Susceptible to having conversations with inanimate objects.

      • 🙂 Thank You Janet, Have hardly been to the computer, so am still waiting to find time to read and comment. What I’ve glanced at is great. Everyone else seems more poetic , me kinda ‘cut and dry’. Analytical….

      • Thank you for saying something – your comment made me go ‘figure out what you mea nt by rereading’ my post. M and P landed under Mike s’s comment above. 🙂
        – love geting to know you and Walt (and others) better through you wonderful posts. Looking forward to reading a commenting –
        – not much energy to read, poem or type at end of day – am painting outside of house.

  35. I may return with something a little more serious later but for now, this comes as close as I’m willing to look these days …


    S – strange, silly and somewhat solitary
    H- hard to live with at times, or know
    A- arthritic, and getting more so every day
    R- realistic much of the time, no really
    O- odd, but not my word; I prefer eccentric
    N- nonchalant about almost everything,

    E- egalitarian: I never use my middle name but had to if I wanted to include this …
    D- direct and to the point – at least sometimes
    N- naturally nuts
    A- ambiguous about being direct …

    I- inscrutable … go figure
    N- notorious but only in the best-behaved ways
    G- goofy and gentle and unusually generous, I’m told
    R- rambunctious, and raucous but hopefully not rude
    A- adventurous; sort of – if it’s not too dangerous
    H- humane to a fault, or so I’ve heard
    A- arbitrary, but only on Tuesdays
    M- mental as anything, but again this is only what I’ve been told

  36. “Who Do You Think You Are, Alexandra Palmer?”

    A city girl that does not
    Like to go out. An
    Xenophobe that married
    A foreigner. A
    Now American resident
    Dreaming of

    Perhaps, finally
    At that happy stage in
    Life, when she is
    More herself, than
    Ever before.
    Ready for an adventure.

  37. Who Do You Think You Are, Nancy Posey?

    Now that I’ve missed the chance of dying young
    And I’m focusing instead on staying young,
    Nothing seems too ridiculous to try.
    Can’t, won’t, and shouldn’t are banished from my vocabulary.
    You only live once: that’s my motto.

    And as the clock keeps ticking away time,
    Now I accept that my journey here is half over.
    Nothing less than the Fountain of Youth

    Can change that. I have decide that the
    Only person who can keep me from learning, growing,
    And changing is me.
    Today, I think I’ll write a poem, learn to play a new
    Song, make a new friend, write a letter, a real one the

    Postman will pick up and another will deliver.
    Over coffee, I’ll share a secret or two, I’ll
    Stretch through yoga, breathing slowly in and out,
    Exercising my desire to exercise. After all,
    You only live once. I intend to do it well.

  38. C rashing onto the stage like
    A n understudy who never read
    T he unfinished script,
    H ere I make dialogue with
    E asy fear, pretending to
    R emember my lines.
    I choke on words that are
    N ot my own until I dare to
    E xeunt from the fabricated stage.

    L et the world now hang on
    E very living syllable
    E xhaling from my unscripted lips.

  39. Who do you think you are, Iain Douglas Kemp?

    Insane, but hanging in there as an
    Anarchic throw-back
    Introvert in recovery, generally summed up as
    Nice (but in a weird way)

    Doing fine after so much suffering though
    Old before time and
    Uglier than a pug with a hangover but
    Gives far more than ever gained
    Loves in ways unseen
    Artistic to a meagre extent
    Sleeping whenever the opportunity arises

    Kinder to animals than people
    Ever watching over the shoulder
    Musically ambitious beyond talent
    Pleased as Punch to get a second chance.


  40. Pingback: Going the Distance: Who Do You Think You Are, ABL? « Sharp Little Pencil

  41. Hey, wait a sec! I read the prompt on Sunday before the Acrostic mention, and I worked really hard on this one, so I’m sorry. It’s also almost as long as an acrostic on “Amy Barlow Liberatore,” so there you go! Ha ha, sorry about that, love, Amy

    Going the Distance :
    “Who Do You Think You Are, Amy Barlow Liberatore?”

    Let’s hear what everybody else says first:

    “You were born 40 and you’re working your way backwards,”
    said my mom, when I was 7

    “Charmful little armful,”
    said my musical mentor

    “She can SANG!”
    said our African-American piano player

    “Get that bitch off the podium,”
    said the Buffalo cop at a peace rally

    “Please don’t say that about your dad,”
    cried my mom, when I was 35

    “You’re not a dyke, why should you care?”
    asked a Fundie at a PRIDE rally when I challenged their ‘God Hates Fags’ sign

    “Good thing you can sing. Your dancing sucks,”
    joked my friend at a big band concert

    “You’re not a victim; you’re a survivor,”
    said my therapist

    “You wear manic depression well,”
    grinned my psychiatrist

    “You have the soul of a dinosaur,”
    said the oracle Sidnie

    “Don’t hold back, tell us how you really feel,”
    say bloggers (with a wink)

    slobbered countless drunks at my piano bar

    “You’re just a gay man trapped in a straight woman’s body,”
    said Jeffery, may he rest in peace

    “You’re going to hell for encouraging those homosexuals,”
    say… too many people to mention

    “If you’re going to hell, it’s gonna be in a FABulous handbasket,”
    giggled Jason

    “Thanks for the lessons,”
    said my BFF (and only he will understand that comment)

    “I have no dramatic coming-out story because you were so accepting,”
    laughed Riley

    “She’s a pain in the ass,”
    said the FBI agent, flipping through my file

    “Take it off! Take it off!”
    cried Christopher after I sang a comedic song about stripper envy

    “Because she questions my authority,”
    said the principal to my mother, as I sat in detention

    “You are SO worth it,”
    says my husband, over and over again

    My life is chaotic peace.

    I’m a sharp little pencil, still writing my life.

    © 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
    For Poetic Bloomings (“Who Do You Think You Are?”), for Sunday Scribblings (distance), and for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United.

  42. HA! The acrostic fell together well, so I am REDEEMED!

    Who Do You Think You Are, Amy Barlow Liberatore?
    (The Acrostic Woman)

    Manic Depressive
    Yuengling beer-lover

    Binghamton girl
    At odds with Congress
    Ranting half the time
    Loving everyone anyway
    Over the top
    Working for social justice and peace

    Lifelong learner, self-taught
    Interested in strangers
    Bookcases are stuffed
    Erotically inclined
    Raised Episcopalian
    At present, Congregational/UCC
    Torridly romantic when it comes to Lex
    Out of sorts on cloudy days
    Riley, my daughter, pride and joy
    Ever-expanding hope for the future

    © 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

    • You ROCK!!! I would so like to know what you taught your BFF (I think, maybe, maybe privately … rofl) Both poems are hilarious and so autobiographical, I want to hang them on my wall except I’m nowhere near my wall or a printer or … nevahmind, as Gilda used to say. Love how you squeezed every bit of you (probably not but it seems like it) into these two poems … they were a joy to read. Peace Ames.

    • Your a sharp gal who has lead an interesting, exciting life – and, I am sure, witll continue to do so. Good show. 🙂

  43. And, I might add: An inspiration to the dancing world (after you told the story of dancing in the supermarket to Martha V’s oldie: “Dancin’ in the Street” Loved, loved, LOVED that story — in fact, I am going to YouTube now and start my exercise program ! 🙂 ! Thank you for the “real” person that you are, Amy!

  44. Running on a Moonbeam

    Maybe it was the length of her legs, slim
    And long, although pity about her feet – as small as a
    Rat’s pinched pink nose or as short as a robber
    Is of an honest wage, but she could run faster than an alibi
    Lingering on a liar’s tongue. It was them, you see, four mental
    Yobs that teased her, kicked and beat her. Half-crazy,
    Nasty kids that made her run as fast as spring turns green.
    Bullies that twisted her fears into nightmares, a fragile bomb
    Ready to burst into tears and gasping sobs as year
    After year she ran the two miles home. Soon it was fun; no drama.
    Every day she’d race them home, she’d laugh, her pace
    Never less than theirs. She’d stop and wait for them to catch-up, in-
    Different to old fears. A daring grin, the tables turned, she’d
    enjoyed the thrill, the twists and turns, the speed, the solitude.
    How she loved to run. She was drawn to it like an alabaster moth
    Obeying the lure of a flame. Chasing rain and snow and sun deep into
    Leafy lanes of minted green. Once young: to run at speed but now it’s all
    Memories of the sounds and feel, the thrill of running on a moonbeam.

    Poem Form: Long Sentence, Double Acrostic

  45. Sorry, but that didn’t hold its lines correctly. I want to try again, so I’ve shortened some of the lines (pity) so they won’t word-wrap.

    Running on a Moonbeam

    Maybe it was the length of her legs, slim
    And long, although pity about her feet – as small as a
    Rat’s pinched pink nose or as short as a robber
    Is of an honest wage, but she could run faster than an alibi
    Lingering on a liar’s tongue. It was them, you see, four mental
    Yobs that teased her, kicked her and beat her. Half-crazy,
    Nasty kids that made her run as fast as spring turns green.
    Bullies that twisted her fears into nightmares, a fragile bomb
    Ready to burst into tears and gasping sobs as year
    After year she ran the two miles home. Soon it was no drama.
    Every day she’d race them home, she’d laugh, her pace
    Never less than theirs. She’d wait for them to catch-up, in-
    Different to old fears. A daring grin, the tables turned, she’d
    enjoyed the thrill, the twists and turns, the speed, the solitude.
    How she loved to run. She was drawn to it like a moth
    Obeying the lure of a flame. Chasing rain and sun deep into
    Leafy lanes of minty green. Young: to run at speed, now it’s all
    Memories of the sounds and thrills of running on a moonbeam.

    Poem Form: Long Sentence, Double Acrostic

  46. Pingback: Long Sentence, Double Acrostic Poem – “Running on a Moonbeam” « Misky

  47. Marie & Walt– you’ve both captured yourselves perfectly! Both made me smile. 🙂 Looking forward to coming back to read the rest. For now, I’m adding mine and running. Busy day ahead. 😐


    Perplexed & perplexing, paradoxical, problematic
    Agonizes at times (
    Mostly over
    Everything) somewhat
    Lackadaisical, occasionally
    Annoyingly ambitious

    Moonstruck (
    Yet, often exhibiting a sunny

    Can be
    Likeable – even lovely (
    Every now
    And then)

  48. Who Do You Think You Are, Daniel?

    Why would she take me down this path again?
    Dare I reveal any more?
    You’d think my bones are already bare enough.
    There’s been a lot of self-examination, lately.
    Yet, once more into the breach.
    Am I ready for another look in the mirror?
    Darn straight, I am.

    Desiring less of the material world,
    and more of the ideal,
    now, then and always.
    Imperfect in most things,
    ever seeking to improve,
    love a way of being more than a goal.

    Patience is clearly a virtue,
    authenticity and transparency too, and
    I wish that I possessed more of each,
    calm in such places as grocery lines,
    or, at least, pretending to be.
    Positive thinking works for me,
    unless it doesn’t,
    Ok, it’s a

  49. Who Do You Think You Are: Marilyn?

    Meticulously Virgoan, pedantic and
    Annoying, insufferable attention to detail.
    Rigid and renown as being pigheaded,
    Irrational by choice and just to amuse.
    Light-hearted as helium, and of course,
    Yes, loved and cherished
    Nanna to Emma and Ethan.

    • I soo get the meticulously “Virgoan”, Misky, as I am Sagitarrius but with TONS of Virgo; and Scorpio/Pisces depth! :)! I just Love your Grandchildren’s names!!!

  50. Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed?

    White veins run through her chocolate
    Hair, making her appear
    Older than she is, sometimes a

    Dent to her ego,
    Other times a place to hide.

    Yearning to leave a whisper
    Of herself to last
    Until the sun’s light no longer shines.

    Trying to live her life with gentle dignity
    Humble humor, and always
    Interested in snatching serenity like
    Naps in warm sunshine,
    Keeping the anxieties of life at bay.

    Yet not always succeeding
    Often times finding herself in
    Uncomfortable situations,

    Arrested by the illusion assumed as a child that
    Reaching adulthood would make life
    Easier but in truth she is still searching,

    Making mistakes, learning, growing new
    Interest to replace the ones that withered,
    Challenging her mind and
    Heart to heap love
    Every day onto those around her, hopefully
    Leaving smiles and hugs in her wake –
    Lessons of patience, practice and embracing
    Every imperfection as unique for herself and her children.

    Hoping the muse of inspiration never forgets to
    Entertain her heart, knowing her
    Door is always open to new ideas.

  51. Marie and Walt – what a wonderful prompt!

    As I’m sitting here, alone, convalescing (infected tonsil – spreading to my other tonsil) and having a small pity party (I’m missing my family vacation) – I have read each and every “Who Do You Think Are” Acrostic and I have felt like I’ve had you each over for tea and now I don’t feeling quite so lonely. You are all wonderfully talented and gifted writers and I’m so glad to have spent the last few hours getting to know you all a little better.
    Hope you are all having a wonderful day! – Michelle

  52. Michael Grove has inspired me to try this a few times.
    My entire name, this time.

    Who Do You Think You Are, Kelly Elaine Donadio?

    Keeper of memories,
    Even the bad ones; which sometimes
    Linger, but also propel me to
    Live life how I want, regardless of what
    You think.

    Eager to experience new things with the
    Loves of my life;
    Angelo, Claire, Marina and Olivia,
    Including their wonderful Dad, my
    Nocturnal snoring mate!
    Edging toward 50, I

    Don’t really enjoy crowds. An
    Only child, I am content in solitude.
    Never setting high expectation on
    Anyone (but me), it is much less
    Disappointing that way.
    Incisive and decisive,
    Obstinate…at times.

    © KED 2012

  53. Next, one word per letter.

    Who Do You Think You Are, Kelly E. Donadio




    © KED 2012

  54. Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed? (Part 2)

    Mischievous streaks appear when least expected
    Intelligent but introverted to the core
    Childlike with glee when happy beyond reason
    Humor – love it, sometimes lack it
    Elegant, snort, only in my dreams
    Likeable, gee I hope so
    Easy going

    Rational, I can rationalize anything (I’m secretly a Vulcan)
    Animal lover
    Earthy, prefer to be outdoors with a camera in my hand

    Kinky – ha ha ha, just grabbing your attention (Kind is the real word)
    Artistic with a passion
    Unusually large heart and believes in giving people
    Second chances
    Educated but lacking wisdom (I’ll never be old enough)

    Hard working
    Enjoys life one day at a time
    Devoted wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece – family first

  55. Who Do You Think You Are, Regis Jane Neilson?

    Radical may not quite describe me, but
    Everything I believe, I hope, comes through clearly.
    God is my Lord, King, and Creator;
    I am His child, though
    Shamefully disobedient at times.

    Justice calls my name,
    And words are never far away.
    New poems and ancient stories
    Eat away at me persistently.

    Never able to resist a good book,
    Early morning hours host my coziest adventures.
    I love piano keys beneath my fingers and
    Lilting, wordless tunes on prairie winds.
    Songs, stories, and big skies are improved
    Only by the presence of dear ones who are
    Never far from my flittering heart.

  56. Who Is Randy Bell ?

    ₩olf spooled in golden-tongue
    Hot head guttersnipe strutting
    ❍’ how I love to be prompted to mock myself !

    I only crave a
    $ weet life, but I’m

    R eckless as recess
    Å droit with a daub of charismatic eloquence
    ₦ urturing a smiling facade
    ₫ ithering, daydreaming Gemini
    ¥ earning to shed second skin

    β lended concoction$ of plausibility
    € lfin, flirtatious, firefly pursuing
    ₤ ong guided by layogenic ambitions
    ₤ over of sugary poisons which taint my crippled heart

  57. I’m with Barbara, not much on acrostics, yet realizing y’all are onto a very clever project, so holding my nose and my breath–here it is.

    Who Do You Think You Are Sara Vinas? (did anyone else get flashbacks of parental scoldings when they wrote this?)

    Semiserious in most endeavors
    Alliteratively inclined in speech and poetry
    Ready to laugh
    At almost anything, especially slapstick

    Values friendship and family
    Inspired by and requiring daily doses of nature
    Needs music to do everything but write
    Always thankful and mostly optimistic
    Sings in the car and smiles at strangers

    • Very nicely done, Sara! I didn’t think about my parents a lot in contemplating this prompt, but I’ve had the song “Jar of Hearts” by Christina Perri stuck in my head since the prompt was posted! Good thing I love that song… 🙂

  58. Who Do You Think You Are, Mary Mansfield?

    Maybe an old soul
    Arcing through the mists of time
    Remembered the joys of physical form,
    Yearned to complete a journey
    Begun eons ago,
    Ethereal freedom
    Traded for

    Maverick tendencies
    Amplify the contradictions
    Nestled within me,
    Sarcasm cloaked in sweetness,
    Fundamental flaws
    In one seeking a more spiritual side,
    Eccentric yet predictably normal,
    Likeable but intimidating, and just a bit

  59. Brava to each and every poet and supportive soul who have responded with such vitality and passion! I was hesitant to propose this project. It proves that even my instincts can fail me. Gladly, I was wrong! Great job, again! Walt

  60. …because I haven’t missed a week yet…

    another day I’ll write; for now I’m
    unable to think of anything but self-
    loathing words
    and depressing thoughts

    another day comes, I’ll
    not hesitate to write who I
    know myself to be;
    everything has a season,
    now is just not the time.

  61. Who Do You Think You Are, Jane Shlensky?

    Joyful thoughts go with me wherever I go,
    Assembled over the years from ideas that
    Nourish me, each in its own way, with never
    Enough time to do them all justice.

    Could I have another forty years to
    Read and write, sing and play, I’d still befriend a piano,
    Argue for the rights of dulcimers and kazoos,
    Value fur and feathers, sunlight and rain,
    Enjoy a good joke and glass of wine,
    Range over landscapes of possibility.

    Shouldn’t I spend my mature years
    Hugging strangers, humbled by simple happiness,
    Loving for the sake of loving,
    Engaged in using myself to the last drop?
    Now I understand a thing or two,
    Search and find my people,
    Know that life can be hardship and joy, earth and sky,
    Yin and yang.

  62. Pingback: “Who Do You Think You Are, Miss R.?” + “Who Do You Think You Are, Regis Jane Neilson?” « A Particle of Difference

  63. Pingback: PART I – WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? | Two Voices, One Song

  64. Truly, truly amazing…. Two weeks late to the party. But, oh my, what a group of fantastically amazing people to be associated with.

    By: Meena Rose

    Myth lover – legend creator extraordinaire;
    Enigmatic – she prefers it that way;
    Elemental – swayed by forces unseen and words unspoken;
    Nebulous and undefined – a shrouded mystery;
    Acolyte – following in footsteps of bygone masters.

    Romantic – hopelessly so;
    Optimistic – never gives up;
    Servant – heeds a higher call;
    Engaged – in thought and deed.


  65. Way late to the game. But catching up.

    <a href="http://neversayacommonplacething.blogspot.com/2013/02/who-do-you-think-you-are-child.html&quot;.WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, CHILD?

    Kids have a way of
    Immersing themselves in the
    Magic of everyday
    Imagination, not
    Knowing that this
    Openness we think ordinary

    Lives wild in our
    Youth, so
    Near that we
    Never believe it can disappear.

    Years later we will see that
    Optimism challenged as the
    Unknown morphs from
    Newness to negativity. We
    Grow wiser, we think,

    Master our own lives
    And wonder why
    Reality is far less
    Tantilizing than
    It was when
    No one was looking.
    Evermore we seek the
    Zen of childhood.

  66. Pingback: Who Am I? | echoes from the silence

  67. I’m really, really late. But, here goes:

    Who Do I Think I Are?

    E verthing about me is
    A mystery to some
    R ealistically I am a
    L iterary bum

    J ust a little reading of
    A few of my creations
    M akes one want to wonder
    E ven ponder a vacation
    S urely you make humor

    P oetry is what I love
    A well constructed verse
    R eally makes me proud to say
    S ee, it could be worse
    O h, come on, it’s not that bad
    N o one’s pitched a fit
    S eems you’re having a hard time understating it

    Seriously, now:

    Who Do I Think I Am

    E arly in my childhood I decided I would be
    A ll that my grandfather was, he was so good to me
    R aising me as he did, with love beyond understanding
    L ove was all that radiated from his aura and inner being

    J esus was my Grandpa’s mentor, they talked every day
    A lways walking in His grace, and following His Way
    M y Grandma, God rest her soul, lead me to the Lord
    E ternity in Heaven they are sharing their reward
    S urely they’ll be waiting at the Gate

    P owerful the lessons that my Grandpa left for me
    A lways treat your fellow man with love and dignity
    R ealize that in the world there is only good and bad
    S tay the path of righteousness we taught you as a lad
    O n the rock of Jesus you must firmly take a stand
    N o one can defeat you if you hold onto God’s hand
    S incere thanks to God for my Grandfather

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