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 – CAMP OLYMPICS

July 15 – It’s time for the Annual Camp Olympics. Camp Wa-Cha-Ga-Na-Dew-About-It has challenged us to a meet. Pick a traditional event and place yourself into the fray. Or make up an event and be as outlandish as you want. Limber up, give your best effort and go for the gold. Good luck! 

 

STAYING ON THE TRAIL

July 14 – IT’S RAINING (INSIDE)

July 13 – SENSORY OVERLOAD

July 12 – PICTURE PERFECT

July 11 – BOY CAMP / GIRL CAMP

July 10 – CAMPFIRE

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49 thoughts on “GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – CAMP OLYMPICS

  1. William Preston on said:

    A BALL GAME AT THE GIRLS’ CAMP

    We met upon the camp’s broad lawn
    as dawn
    began to fade; my morning frown
    went down,
    as we began to romp and play.
    Today
    the whole world seems ebullient, gay
    because their pitcher favored me.
    I loosed all trace of apathy
    as dawn went down to day.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  2. connielpeters on said:

    Scavenger Hunt

    Get your list right here up front
    For it’s time for a scavenger hunt
    Video cameras to collect it all
    We are going to have a ball

    The entire team with a ranger
    Autograph from a stranger
    Team members wearing hats
    Also posed with baseball bats

    Taking toilet paper from the roll
    Feather, flower, silver bowl
    Chipmunk, rabbit, bird or deer
    Calendar page from another year

    Thirty-two cents worth of change
    Shooting arrows on the range
    Juggling rolled-up pairs of socks
    Cairn made up of twenty rocks

    Judges will now take a vote
    Winners get to brag and gloat
    Also avoid evening chores
    Plus extra helpings of s’mores

  3. RJ Clarken on said:

    This is a writers’ camp, right? Write? So (in Trillonet form) here goes…

    Word Race

    “Do not say a little in many words but a great deal in a few.” ~Pythagoras

    Forget Pythagoras, you see,
    because this race means words – a lot!
    The numbers count; that is our goal,

    and kind of like a spelling bee,
    the first to make big words from thought,
    in quantity, will take control.

    Think fifty thousand. More? Write free!
    This isn’t just a camp long shot:
    Yes, you can do it! We’ll extol

    your written virtues, then. Esprit!
    So pen those stories, poems…not
    a word to waste. We won’t cajole

    but rather say, get set…then GO!
    The race is on! Don’t tell – just show!

    ###

  4. THAT’S HOW I ROLL

    It started as a metered run,
    one hundred clicks on a less than gentle decline.
    I was fine until we reached the trees.
    But, the brute from Wha-Cha-Go-Na-Dew
    flew by elbows churning, catching my jaw
    and turning me into this stately maple.
    A stumble, a fall, a hundred meter tumble
    to the finish line. When I came to,
    they told me I had won. I never thought
    camp would be such fun! A painful run,
    but Wha-Cha-Go-Na-Dew?

  5. POTATO-SACK RACE

    What do I get for swearing I’ll win?
    A sack somebody tore a hole in.
    I placed my feet way past my shin
    Ready to burlap my way with a grin,
    But I tripped and took me one nasty spin
    To the laughter of all and to my sorry chagrin.
    Potato sack races are no longer my thing.
    I’m spending my summer, my arm in a sling.

    #

  6. The Mud Bath

    The challenge came down from cabin six
    The tug-o-war champs three years running
    Daring anyone to come out on game day
    And attempt to pull them into the mud pit

    They had the biggest kids in the camp
    Not bullies, mind you, just big and happy
    Very confident in their tug-o-wars skill
    Looking forward to a fourth year trophy

    But we in cabin three had our eye on the prize
    To knock the champs off would be amazing
    Especially since this was their last year at camp
    And we were only there in our second season

    So secretly since the first day of camp
    We had wandered off during free time
    To practice with a rope tied to a tree
    Just out of sight of the rest of the camp

    And we were getting pretty good at pulling
    But a tree doesn’t pull back, don’t you know
    And our nerves the closer we got to game day
    Made us ever more doubtful of potential success

    Game day seemed to pop up out of nowhere
    And the tug-o-war was last on the schedule
    In the meantime, cabin three won the sack race
    And came in second in the three-leg and relay

    Cabin six had a two point lead half way through
    But we in cabin three were in solid second place
    A hard fight in the second half lead to a tie
    Now it all came down to who gets the mud bath

    The Klaxton blared loudly, “Attention campers!
    It’s all down to one last exciting event!!
    Cabin six, the three year champs, vs. cabin three
    Gather ‘round and cheer on your favorite team!”

    Nervously confident, we took hold of the rope
    Knot-encircled anchor, our feet firmly planted
    The whistle blew abruptly: the challenge was on
    Grunts, groans, straining, and bulging veins pop

    The noise of the campers was deafening
    Most of them cheering the underdogs
    Not to disappoint, we pulled harder
    Cabin six faces looked rather surprised

    We pulled our first opponent into the mud
    But somehow they managed to pull him out
    Back and forth we went for quite a long time
    At least it seemed like it was taking forever

    The screams of the campers seemed to subside
    Or were they being muffled by determination
    I looked down and was shocked at what I saw
    Our lead guy had mud up to his ankles

    “PULL!!” I screamed, “PULL HARD NOW!!”
    But I think the wrong team heard my plea
    ‘Cause by now our lead guy was up to his knees
    And my feet were muddy and slipping

    It was then that we lost our footing and fell
    Cabin six took advantage and pulled really hard
    Our anchor, firmly tied in, flew over my head
    And we all ended the day covered in mud

    Cabin six lay exhausted smiling at the sky
    Their leader got up and pointed our way
    With a wink and a smile, he gave a thumbs-up
    In that moment, we felt like we had won

    Game day ended for us in a mud pit
    Second place wasn’t that bad for cabin three
    Good sports as they were, cabin six applauded
    As the fire hose came out to wash off the day

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  7. Priti on said:

    The Lemon Tease

    Today’s the day of Lemon Race
    Sun’s glaring, birds mocking
    wind’s pausing and teeth chattering
    Six by six, we come in rows
    balancing swaggering giant lemons
    In smaller restless moon spoons
    Stumbling thro sticks and stones
    we have to make it all the way
    to that bearded banyan tree
    and offer it our citrus treat
    without releasing the sour ball
    to the forces of gravity
    and if that bloater drops by chance
    you go back to that spiteful start-
    After what seemed like a never ending race
    of rolling globs, jittery hands and grated knees
    we realized that in the end
    it really is the slow and steady turtle
    who wins—–

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

    TEAM:

    MINER – 49ERS (Acrostic)

    Move those bodies
    In weather, all kinds
    Never mind the fog and such
    Erupt thru it: Swim, Hike, Bike
    Run to it!
    4 events
    9 to a team,
    Energizers, all
    Rewards the Gold, and
    Seals it!!

  10. The Glory

    I chose to run…
    like a feather
    (light)
    with a rocket on its tip
    (fast)
    the sweat drips
    (slow)
    my heart beats in rhythm
    (tempo)
    I can see the finish line
    (tape)
    the crowds come to their feet
    (cheering)
    I’ve made my country proud
    (proud)
    I’ve brought honor to my flag
    (prestige)
    I will be remembered for all time
    (glory)
    …till the bugle sounds…
    it was just a dream.

  11. Darlene Franklin on said:

    Several things happened today. I kept getting interrupted when I was trying to write. I decided I was going to write 250 words on a novella that’s not official but mostly there. And I didn’t have an immediate idea for the poem . . . hopefully tomorrow I’ll do better!

  12. Pingback: Sowing Mother’s Seeds | Metaphors and Smiles

  13. Sowing Mother’s Seeds

    The sky’s filled with spilled seeds
    dandelion fluff floats on the slight breeze
    as millions of tiny fairies with little umbrellas –
    the wind has gathered them up and they soar.
    Late afternoon sun illuminates the matter
    the field is boisterous as children are busy,
    they’re picking, blowing and counting happily.
    At the end one child will have the most empty stems,
    when this is finished there will be multiplied smiles
    and a single shining face waiting patiently to be painted.
    The ultimate prize is all the hearts aglow with wonder
    and Mother Earth delighting in her life-filled womb
    as she dreams of the meadow full of lemon-yellow blooms.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

  14. Camp Granada Events Day

    Granada girls are ready. Bring on
    that three-legged race. Look, the twins
    are down already. So much for thinking
    in synch. Our rivals boo. Who do they
    think they are? Whoops! Two sets
    of players on their team scream
    as they hit the ground. Coming up
    to the finish, it is foot in foot.
    We each have a last pair left.
    Go! Go! Go! Oh no. Just as both
    sets of girls approach the line,
    they fall into each other. Counselors
    are called in to break up the fighting.
    Tie game. Oh well, we will crush
    them at paintball. Go Granada!

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