POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – INTENSE IN TENTS

July 7th – Your “Bunkie / tent mate” is getting on your nerves. Think of a non-hurtful prank you can play as payback. You can write about the event or of their reaction to it.

STAYING ON THE TRAIL

July 6 – HELLO MUDDAH, HELLO FADDAH

July 5 – DID YOU HEAR THAT?

July 4 – NIGHT LIGHTS OVER THE LAKE

July 3 – IN THE SUMMERTIME (MUSIC)

July 2 – EXPLORATION / BOP FORM

 

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85 thoughts on “GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – INTENSE IN TENTS

  1. William Preston on said:

    THE PERFECT SQUELCH

    When your tent mate becomes a great bore
    with his stories and boasting galore,
    you can tell him his girl
    gave a new guy a whirl
    and he’ll nary annoy you no more.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  2. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LAKE

    Calm & tranquil,
    soft breezes, cool
    and rustling,
    fish flicker below
    and the flow is smooth
    and still. Ripples
    radiate as the “vessel” floats.
    Boats travel lightly
    but this mattress is less buoyant.
    He snores and kicks.
    I hope he can swim.

    (C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

  3. The prompt today asks for a prank
    but my mind has gone totally blank.
    I’ve gone to the wall,
    which was no help at all.
    The vaguest ideas I had stank.

  4. Getting Even with Icky

    Icky Tevins is a jerk
    plays sick, evades work
    but I will have the last smirk…
    I grab the paper Mom sent,
    to write to her she meant,
    penned three letters that went
    in a note to sister Lou
    detailing what to do.
    Icky Tevins had no clue.

    Thursday all three came
    the counselor called his name
    Icky turned red as was my aim.
    The counselor said, you know the rule,
    you get two, I read the third – aloud. Cool,
    he said, this one reeks of scent. Cruel,
    nice touch, Lou. I just shook my head in glee.
    Icky yelled, I’ve been pranked, Oh, gee,
    I don’t know no girls named Leigh!

  5. Pingback: Choices, Choices… (A Sevenling) | Metaphors and Smiles

  6. Choices, Choices… (A Sevenling)

    Will it be fleshy pink earth worms, (in her slippers),
    yellow slimy slugs, (when it’s her turn for dishes)
    or a million lightning bugs, (stealing her sleep)?

    Perhaps a slithering green garden snake, (in her laundry),
    a praying mantis, (perched on her hairbrush)
    or a flock of moths, (beneath her bed-sheets)?

    Oh, I could be irksome but I think I’ll gift her my favorite sticker instead.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

    Mother Nature had her own little “prank” for me yesterday, I nearly stepped on a common garter snake, (or garden snake),on my daily walk.

    Yes, I did squeak and jump!! 😉

  7. connielpeters on said:

    Annoying Amy had the jitters
    About all the woodland critters
    I howled at the moon
    She ran away soon
    Unaware of my guffaws and titters

  8. A PRANK REVISITED

    One night out of earshot
    (or at least Van Camp
    and Meyers thought
    they were)
    I heard the two counselors
    reminisce about past camp pranks
    that livened up their summers
    and kept them laughing
    into cupped hands
    well into October

    Bent on revenge
    (a strong need to punish
    Georgie Maher, the boy I shared
    a tent with, who practiced
    his talent for putdowns on me)
    I listened carefully
    making vivid mental notes
    as they interspersed
    their recollection with
    bursts of laughter

    “Don’t mind Georgie;”
    (this from my neighbor friend Jimmy)
    “He’s just a bag of wind,
    poking fun at anything that moves.”
    A bag of wind, I thought,
    We’ll see. We’ll see.
    Then one afternoon on a trip to town
    I bought some X-lax,
    heated it to a soft melt and stirred it
    in his chocolate milk

    Then Jimmy and I took turns
    (holding down the toilet fort
    so Georgie Porgie couldn’t get in).
    Jimmy and I howled like coyotes
    while bigmouth weepy Maher
    begged and begged us
    to let him in and have a seat.
    Finally we did.
    Wind-deflated, Georgie lost
    The knack for shooting off his mouth.

    #

  9. (Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)

    “… the only thing to do about Love is to Love more…”

    For My Honey

    Riveting novel
    One chapter to go
    He snuggled right in
    Camp light aglow
    What’s THIS?!?!
    Pages stuck,
    In honey of muck, Now
    He’ll just have to wait,
    Until we get home.

  10. Justified Prankacide

    When Janie Lee Potterhouse,
    that scrawny little mouse,
    filled my hiking boots with mud,

    I told her, “You smug little louse,
    I’ll get you — you just wait!”
    But instead, I waited.

    And waited. My revenge belated
    for the perfect time.
    For days I grinned, so sublime

    to see her tense and taut —
    day after day until I thought
    Now the time is right!

    A storm blew strong that night,
    as I unzipped her tent’s door.
    Rain poured in across the floor,
    a pretty pool of wet.

    It was justified.
    It was prankacide.
    I laughed and held my-cide.

    And I almost forgot I hated camping.

  11. Okay, here’s a subtle yet annoying revenge.

    Camper’s Serenade

    Craft class teaches useful things;
    Cord-making tops the list.
    Then imaginative problem
    Solving locks us outside boxes,
    Forcing us to create our own
    Solutions for irritants and
    Schemers alike.

    Solutions are funny things,
    What with their timing and all.
    For one irritant, creative solutions
    Can become a broader field of play.
    Take thin twigs and thinner cord,
    Lash together to make grates;
    You’ll need six, with one that opens.

    Now add one big cricket to the mix,
    Secure and dangle from a rafter.
    Wait for bedtime, forget the stopwatch.
    Response will be immediate and long,
    As the Camper’s Serenade ensues.
    Too bad about those other non-sleepers,
    So long as one irritant joins another.

  12. Cabin Fun

    Sheets will get shorted

    Whipped cream and feathers
    Will be properly applied
    For the maximum laughter

    Certain hands may just end up
    In bowls of warm water

    Underwear may disappear
    Or maybe all your clothes

    Your bunk may be moved
    Outside, or to the girls cabin
    In the middle of the night

    So, sleep with one eye open
    And remember it’s all in good fun

    Most importantly
    What happens in the cabin
    Stays in the cabin

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  13. Priti on said:

    Purple breath
    Balloons in her ego, spun so many yarns
    How do we deflate and it stumble its dance?
    We silently squeezed some spiced purple bright
    in the mint of her toothpaste, the one for her smiles
    Needless to say she was tightlipped all week
    spent most of her time in a silent retreat
    Till this day I hear that she gags brushing teeth
    and purple, just makes her lavender breath seethe

  14. Ear Troubles (A string of shadormas)

    My bunk mate
    snores…all through the night,
    so I don’t
    sleep at all.
    His snoring never stops, no
    matter what I do.

    So last night
    I wheeled his cot out
    and down to
    the lake shore.
    I slept great until I got
    a bugle call in

    my ear and
    now I cannot hear.
    It seems I
    placed my mate
    right next to the leaders tent
    and he didn’t sleep well.

    So we’re back
    together
    but all has ended
    fine. I got
    some ear plugs
    for when my hearing returns
    and now I sleep fine.

  15. Darlene Franklin on said:

    I’m running late today. . .I’ll come back and comment later.

    SCIENCE CAMP

    It’s not my fault only two girls arrived
    My parents promised me choice of three camps
    Kids with like interests, science and stuff
    I thought biology, not chemistry

    Not my fault allergies make me break out
    Didn’t you guess when your soap made me sneeze
    Treats my skin like poison ivy on yours

    Warning: throw out those brochures when they come
    Next year I’ll pack my tarantula–boo

  16. 😀 !! Thanks all, for the smiles and (Misky!) outbursts of laughter 😀 !!

  17. Yak, Yak, Yak

    One week gone, and she still
    has not stopped gabbing.
    Gab, gab, gab.

    She hates everyone and everything
    from her little brother
    to the counselors, food,

    even insects, that put her
    in a foul mood, whether
    they fly or crawl.

    Could not take it another day.
    She would never run out
    of things to say, so I took action.

    After she was asleep, I put it
    in her bed. She woke up.
    Shriek, shriek, shriek!

    It was not a real snake
    but it sure did look like one.

  18. Tardy to the Party!

    Non-participation Award

    I don’t haze—don’t ask me.
    Her strange ways won’t task me.
    Her sashays can’t make me wild.
    But if she eats my Hershey bars, I’m getting riled.

    I see tricks from others.
    When pranks prick, they call mothers.
    I get sick of tears and glee.
    I guess the next package of pranks will be for me.

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