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 – IT’S A DAY

July 28 – As we wind down to the final days of “Camp”, today is an Event Day! What day is it? Invent a special celebration for today and write a poem about it. “Packing” Day? “hashtag” Day? Make it a day and poem!

STAYING ON THE TRAIL

July 27 – BARREL OF MONKEYS

July 26 – THREE-LEGGED RACE

July 25 – AT YOUR SERVICE

July 24 – IT’S RAINING AGAIN (OUTSIDE)

July 23 – YOUR AREA ADVENTURES

Single Post Navigation

54 thoughts on “GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – IT’S A DAY

  1. MAGIC DAY AT CAMP

    Van Camp said we had no choice;
    We all had to participate.
    It didn’t matter if magic
    was something we considered
    a waste of a good fishing day
    or a hike beyond the campgrounds.
    “You don’t like magic?” he asked.
    The majority shook our heads.
    “Too bad,” he said. “I run the show
    and there’s magic in the air!”

    Georgie Parker who couldn’t find
    his head if it weren’t attached
    tried to pull a rabbit out of his cap
    but after a wave of the wand
    and something that sounded like
    “Yabba Kabbaba” he dropped
    his hand into his Dodgers cap
    and pulled out that same hand, empty
    of rabbit, a magic trick gone awry.
    Georgie the bully got a round of applause.

    Then Van Camp handed me a box
    with two cooing pigeons inside
    and announced, “Tony’s gonna
    fill this empty box with birds”
    (but he never showed the box
    was empty because it wasn’t)
    so I threw a giant
    handkerchief over the box,
    closed my eyes like magicians do,
    then lifted the lid to find the box empty.

    Van Camp had switched boxes.
    to wild laughter at my expense
    He switched them back and the pigeons
    fluttered out and up into the air.
    I was the grand magician
    worthy of a stand-up ovation,
    wearer of the crown, winner of
    a magician’s kit of tricks
    to play on my sisters
    when camp days were over.
    #

  2. Moving Day

    The End of an Era
    Posted on August 16, 2011 by http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com
    For http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/ Not entirely in the spirit of the prompt to write a moving poem, but I’ve had a busy week.

    The long, long room is empty, swept
    of all the trappings of our life.
    Dust cloud swirls in cheerless sunlight
    pouring through glass strangely clean

    One last look round. What have we forgotten?
    Power turned off and fridge door open,
    bunch of keys on the counter top
    dejected, rejected, disconsolate, alone.

    Will the new people love you as we did,
    cosset the boiler on days when it sulks?
    Will they dig up my roses,
    hack at my clematis?

    The lorry man chafes at our silent goodbyes
    He cares nothing for our backward look.
    OK. Let’s go, no time for regret:
    onward and upward, the new house is waiting.

  3. Why did my poem end up i moderation

  4. Empty Suitcase

    No toothbrush or deodorant
    No sox or underwear
    No pants or shirts to carry
    No change of clothes in there
    Won’t need my medications
    Or a book or two to read
    I’ll leave behind my camera
    My laptop I won’t need
    Won’t need my water bottle
    You all can have my snacks
    Just hope I get to say good-bye
    ‘Cause I won’t be coming back
    I’ve got my empty suitcase
    But when it’s time to go
    You can have the suitcase, too
    Won’t need it, don’t you know

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  5. Happiness Day

    It was happiness day at the camp
    when in through the woods came a tramp.
    He was hungry and dirty
    and a little bit shirty
    so he ate all their food. What a scamp.

  6. Rewind the Day

    We rose at seven to the sound of taps
    brushed our hair and combed our teeth
    stood up to eat our mac and cheese
    then squeezed round the unlit campfire
    singing scary stories and telling funny songs
    then time for crafts as we unglued
    the thing we made with string and wire
    finally reveille sounded and we jumped in bed
    glad this crazy Backward Day has fled.

  7. Circus Day

    The cars and trucks
    appeared in unison
    making a circle
    like an old fashioned
    wagon train.

    Then out came tents
    and weird smells
    started floating our way –
    some not real pleasant.

    We held our noses
    and ventured closer
    until a trumpet sounded
    and we about peed our pants.

    We ran back
    for cover
    but kept watch
    as more and more objects were unloaded.

    The camp bugle sounded for breakfast
    so we headed to the dining building,
    whispering our theories
    back and forth.

    No announcements were made
    about the wagon train
    so we decided
    they might be squatters!

    We decided we should investigate
    and headed back to the upper field
    and ran right into …
    an Elephant!

    Tommy peed his pants
    right there…he was so startled.
    The elephant sucked my hat right off
    and put it on his head.

    Then a monkey appeared
    grabbed my hat
    and began dancing
    on the elephants back.

    I was beginning
    to think we ate something bad
    And were having a really weird dream
    when a man finally appeared.

    Apparently today
    was circus day…
    at camp…
    we were the last to know.

  8. Now that would be fun!

  9. William Preston on said:

    THE GREAT GO-AND-DUMP-IT DAY

    Well-a-day, what a day:
    my turn to clean the campsite loo.
    Some think the head a place to play;
    to one and all I just say; pooh!

  10. Priti on said:

    Farewell Dinner
    Mixed and matched
    we all sat in circles
    to eat together
    the salt and the sweet
    of what was leftover
    Somehow it fermented
    a delicious tender mood
    in our criss crossed goodbyes
    Even the sky lingered
    a patient afterglow
    and the birds sang in verses
    as we flew out
    of their personal spaces

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

    Moonflower Parade

    silent is the night
    resonating with flowers
    glorious chorus

    each nighttime round angelic
    in its night blooming story

  12. Pingback: Dance Day | Metaphors and Smiles

  13. Dance Day

    Free your limbs from everyday things
    put on your favorite shoes or don’t wear any at all,
    turn to a special song or listen to wind in leaves,
    feel rhythm of heart, beat in feet –
    blue pulse in veins and power in breath.
    Allow body to follow while mind to creates
    or the other way around –
    choreograph the soul-speak within
    bring movement to spirit.
    Reach arm further – point toe longer,
    envision your story and bring it to life.
    Artfully gather all that matters
    it’s a good day to be alive –
    let’s release this calendar day
    let’s let go and just dance.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

  14. SHUTTERING THE CABINS

    The counselors have a job to do,
    another season nears the end.
    Soon they will send the campers
    to the places they call home. Some
    will return when the season renews.
    Some will lose interest. Some will grow
    too old to be eligible to come back.
    Every face a memory. Every cabin
    a group of faces. Every group
    sealed in the cabin until Spring
    becomes Summer again. Then
    the cabins will open their doors
    and welcome the campers.
    This is the day it all begins.

    • Wm Preston on said:

      This reads like a round. I thought these lines were especially interesting: “Soon they will send the campers / to the places they call home”; it has the hint that “home” may not be something to take for granted. Or so it seemed to me.

    • This has a sweetly sad feel. I like the “Every cabin a group of faces. Every group sealed in the cabin until Spring becomes Summer again.” Nice thought that the fun lives on.

  15. The Grand Granda Cook-off

    We all don aprons on this day
    to cook whatever food we want.
    The counselors taste and get to say
    which dish is most piquant.

    Meatballs rolled in potato chips,
    which Whitey then deep fries.
    Cody invents a brand new dip
    with ketchup and Eskimo Pies.

    Each dish has a name, but no
    ingredients are divulged.
    Counselors announce first prize goes
    to Charlotte, whose blue eyes bulge.

    The signature dish was a strange entrée
    to campers and counselors alike.
    No one expected Snake Soufflé;
    not a counselor slept that night.

  16. connielpeters on said:

    On all you can eat pasta night
    We always ends up in a messy fight
    The goo sticks in our hair
    Shirt, socks, underwear
    Oh you’ve never seen such a sight

  17. Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – I DON’T WANT TO GO HOME | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS

  18. Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – “GOODBYE, FAREWELL AND AMEN” | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS

  19. Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – BACK TO NORMAL | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS

Plant your poem or comment here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: