This is simple.
Complete this simile,
“AS AWKWARD AS ______________”
Write that poem.
MARIE’S POEM:
As Awkward as Two in an Elevator
He says hi there;
she says hello.
“Which floor?” he asks.
She doesn’t know.
His finger waits,
then starts to tap.
Her face turns red.
She thinks, “Oh crap.
Why can’t I think?
Just pick a floor!”
Her brain congeals.
He taps some more.
“Just. Pick. A. Floor.”
That thought now slips
from clotted brain
through tense, pursed lips.
With sideways glance
and impish smirk,
he presses 12.
(Joker? Or Jerk?)
Long, silent ride
can’t end too soon.
It seems to take
all afternoon.
She ruminates
entire ride,
should parting words
be kind? Or snide?
She isn’t sure
how this should end –
Just like my awkward
poem, my friend.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
WALT’S POEM:
AS AWKWARD AS THAT FIRST HELLO, by Walter J Wojtanik
That first sight said it all,
more that you were able to muster.
You’d stammer and bluster hoping
the words you chose would close the deal.
You steal another glance
and a chance to say hello. But you don’t know.
Will she answer in kind
or mind her own space?
Would she grace with a smile
or have disdain on her face.
She’s probably not interested,
she probably can’t see you.
Her wonder is her disguise,
there’s a glimmer in her eyes.
You swallow your gum, you stand there mum,
some thoughts come to your mind
but you find your mouth is is full
of mumbles and verbal stumbles.
She takes the lead and you beg and plea
that you don’t say something stupid.
You’re bolstered by Cupid’s dart
(even though it missed your heart
and caught you in the throat)
She smiles and offers her greeting. You think of retreating.
You’re sad and shy, but look her in the eye
and say “Hello”. A slow process
in any book. “He’s not as dumb as he looks!”
AS AWKWARD AS I AM,
Nonetheless,
I
walk and chew gum.
Bill, I came “this close” to titling mine the same. GOOD ONE!
Me, too.
I loved where you went with yours too, Marie. It’s hard to hide things between two in an elevator! 😉
😉
Elevators are very uncomfortable, both to stare ahead straight, and being confined.
May be, but you dance around words beautifully. Nothing awkward there, Bill.
See, you are already one step ahead of our Leader.
Walt, I just adore that you chose romance for this “awkward” prompt. The charm here is ADORABLE. Man, do you ever hit spot on in your romance poems … even in the awkward stages. Love it!
I agree with your comments about Walt’s piece, and I think “charming” applies to yours, too.
Thanks much, Bill!
I write from experience here. My shyness is celebrated as having been debilitating. And today being the birthday of the one so honored. Talk about awkward! But thank you!
Awkward as a Nine-fingered Centipede
They can’t be counted—stars—
on all Earth’s toes and fingers.
And what does it matter
If I know—or not—
how many there are.
There are plenty.
I’d hate to feed them
and send them off to school.
Glad to see you’re feeling up to your usual brilliance, Barbara. Love how your mind works, Lady!
Grins. Feeling much better. No more sane.
Good thing, on both counts! 😉
HA! Oh that creative mind of yours, Barbara!
Lots of profundity here.
Love that last line!
Awkward is a good work to describe all the oddness and such this year. The things that are happening are NOT good for this country, for our freedom, or for any cause, especially the causes that have been tainted by violence and politics. But, to me, and it’s obvious, it’s the nature of the beast when a nation kicks God out the back door and Satan walks in the front. We are a nation that needs to get back on our knees for One reason only. For God.
Awkwardly Odd
It used to be easy
It used to be fun
Exchanging ideas
Without any fears
But times have changed
People are nuts
The divide is wide
Not just on one side
No longer can we
Express our beliefs
Lest we get attacked
With nothing but flack
We try to explain
But to no avail
There’s always a fuss
What’s happened to us?
We used to respect
When we disagree
That’s no longer true
Except for a few
A very few care
For others beliefs
But even they get
Their share of threats
What’s happened to us?
Why all the hate speech?
It baffles my mind
So many unkind
We all need to quit
With all of the hate
It’s awkwardly odd
We need to seek God
I hear ya, Earl. I do. As you say, it goes both ways. Great expression of this in your poem. Warm smiles to you, in spite of the craziness of the “season.”
The main thing is to look for Him. You’ll surely find him. Well done, Earl.
AS AWKARD AS WRITING OFF TOPIC, by Walter J Wojtanik
I AM SANTA CLAUS, TO BE CLEAR
I’ve been here through the year,
and let me make this one thing clear.
The spirit of the season plays
through each and every of my days.
Do not mistake me for a poser,
I accept the mantle, I’m no hoser.
Just a man that’s filled with mirth
from the highest point on this green earth.
I’ve been busy undercover,
giving the list a good twice over,
so don’t you think I’ve taken pause,
I am (ready to be your) Santa Claus.
© Walter J Wojtanik – 2020
Sept. 16th begins my 100 Days to Christmas Poem-A-Day personal challenge at http://iamsantaclaus.wordpress.com
I would like to join in on that. I need a break from the mind boggling idiocy of 2020.
Agreed
You are an AWESOME Santa! 100 days of creative Christmas words? That’s nuthin’ for you! ❤
The Klutz
A man who was grocery shopping
reached for a jar of fudge topping
He stretched out his hand
watched jars topple from stand
Mop, aisle two! Stuck shoes, as awkward as clown feet flopping.
Miles of smiles, Sara. A great visual!
Yup on both counts.
I “third” this response!
Thanks, Walt!
Thanks to William and Marie!
Pingback: Prompt #303: Now that’s awkward! – Stine Writing
What Sumac Thought
As awkward as…
always being first to turn,
Mother Nature’s joke on me,
my dry, drab and crisping leaves
surrendering to red.
Dogwoods whisper
“Showoff!” (though
they themselves turn next)
and stolid hickories,
oaks, black gums,
sigh impatiently as if
I had a choice.
My clusters of red berries,
as if embarrassed,
shrivel, fade from red
to nearly black.
I will drop them soon enough,
red leaves black berries both,
and shed the stigma undeserved,
hopefully forgotten
with the coming Change.
To Autumn’s calming dryness,
then Winter’s insistent winds
I will answer with my sleep
and slip with calm assurance
into dreams of Spring.
© Damon Dean, 2020
This had me smiling throughout.
Glad you enjoyed it William.
Ah, there are always dreams of Spring. Lovely, Damon.
Thanks, Sara.
“some thoughts come to your mind
but you find your mouth is is full
of mumbles and verbal stumbles.”
I love this!
Awkward
A mazingly uncomfortable.
W eirdly out of place.
K lunky in performance.
W ay to go, Grace.
A nd whose idea was this? No one
R eally knows. It’s fun to
D ance, but watch out for your toes!
As Awkward as a Missing Line
a moment’s inspiration
followed by a space
a broken conversation
longing for friends
a search for my muse
she’s on break
a walk in a dark hallway
night’s embrace
something I meant to say
recited on a summer lawn
prophets and poets
take from the cup
a line break in a poem
waiting to end
terms of endearment
of undeniable lovers
visions of two exes who
can’t find the words to say