PROMPT #419 – NEW

/ Poetic Bloomings


Happy New Year!

For this week’s prompt, let’s simply explore the word “new.” Some thoughts: a new year’s resolution, a different poetry form to try out, a new baby in the family, a change in career, or even news that has captured your attention.

Big hugs to you all in 2023!

MARIE’S POEM

New Word for 2023

Each year, I choose a word.
Grace, joy, giving, hospitality, empathy, prayer …
You know, words that improve my focus
and my life.
Not one for resolutions,
the idea of a word of the year appeals to me.
It is simple.  Embraceable.
I nearly chose prayer again,
but after much thought and, well, prayer,
I decided on open. 
Open heart.
Open door.
Open to grace, joy, giving, hospitality, empathy, prayer …
Open.
And I’ll open 2023 in prayer
that my Lord will more fully open my heart
to His open arms. 

©  Marie Elena Good, 2022



WALT’S POEM

BEGINNING ANEW

Starting from here;
going on from now.
A fresh start is at the heart
of all that is to come.
A brand new year
came to call, and all
that transpires grows
from the seeds planted
in those twelve month prior.
That fire in your belly
spurs you on, a prodding
giving the nod to better things.
A fresh start is at the heart
of perfecting your art.
It’s all up to you
to begin anew.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

87 thoughts on “PROMPT #419 – NEW”

  1. Walt and Marie, I love both your poems, But Marie, I love that idea. I may steal it. I may put myself in danger of trying times, but I will choose Patience.

  2. Last night I lost a good friend and my handy man as well as our church’s handy man. He had pancreatic cancer, and I have known him over 25 years. I wrote this for him.

    A New Creation…
    (For Marvin Kent who died December 31, 2022)

    The day we answer the call,
    We stand before God
    Saying in humbleness
    “I am here as I am”
    God begins to remake us.

    We won’t change in looks
    Except what age and life
    Will do to us…
    But we will change
    In whom we are…
    Each day a step
    To being that
    New Creation.

    Jesus was a carpenter
    Taught by his earthly father
    How to build things,
    While his father in heaven
    Taught him how to build
    The characters of men.

    I knew this man
    Who was a carpenter…
    He was a friend of mine,
    And I trusted him.
    He did God’s work
    As he sawed and hammered,
    And repaired walls and doors.

    Daily Jesus walked with him,
    And daily Jesus changed the man.
    It is what they both did.

    This man was not a flashy man.
    Carpenters rarely are.
    They are the type that wear ballcaps,
    Blue jeans and t-shirts,
    And did the work
    Most of us cannot do.

    This man was a quiet man
    Who loved his family, his friends,
    His church and most of all
    Jesus for he was the friend
    That walked with him each day.

    He faced his illness with grace,
    And gave us all an example to follow.
    When Jesus came to him
    The last time in this life,
    It was to walk with him
    To the kingdom of God,
    And there he was completed
    Healed, and a new creation
    For his work here was complete.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    January 1, 2023

  3. Oh Marie & Walt. What wonderful poems with which to identify and with such superb sentiments to open the new year…. Best to each of you for your rich generosity in tending this garden! Peace joy snd happy new year

  4. Happy New Year!

    Hello, 2023!
    What do you have in store for me?
    Please treat me well as did your brother.
    2022 was like no other.

    I have set some goals inside of you.
    That would take miracles to see them through.
    So allow the Author to write my story
    May all I do bring Him glory.

    Through good and bad I live by grace.
    The righteous, indeed, will live by faith.
    I pray for great blessings in you, New Year
    For friends and family I hold dear.

  5. Walt and MEG, your thoughts on this new day are nothing short of inspirational. Thank you for these, and for the hours of your lives you have given to this garden.

  6. 2023 Intention

    I do not make resolutions
    in January anymore.
    No point, I’d just ignore them,
    quite quickly, that’s for sure.
    Instead I pick a word,
    to remind me what to see,
    one word, commonly heard,
    nudging how to act, who to be.
    In 2017, it started with Gratitude,
    which truly improved my attitude.
    What followed was Generosity,
    reducing my pomposity.
    In 2019, it was Compassion,
    quite helpful in its fashion.
    One year on it was Empathy,
    oh what wonders I did see.
    As New Year’s Day draws near,
    what will I choose this year?
    Peace? Faith?
    Grace? Repose?
    I think no, not this year,
    it will be none of those.
    I’ll continue to aim for civility,
    stability in my increased fragility,
    Improving upon 2021’s Humility.
    That was the aim, my 2021 plan,
    and the Universe supported me,
    a I worked to be a more humble man.
    For 2022, I was unsparing
    in my plan to do more sharing,
    looking everyone in the eye,
    paying full attention without glaring,
    to whatever weight they’re bearing,
    doing my best to be more Caring.
    Now, for 2023 I pray,
    meditate on what my heart might say,
    awaiting this year’s soulful news
    about the word I myself should choose,
    a reminder of the self from me shall ooze,
    without struggle, pain or blues,
    the word I most can use.
    Aha! I see it,
    certain I can be it,
    so allow me to now free it…
    My 2023 word is…Useful.

  7. WHAT WAS NEW

    perhaps now old
    who actually knew
    how did it unfold

    was there a moment
    that it just appeared
    like a message sent
    something so revered

    a call from somewhere
    found deep inside
    just a flicker of care
    once used to hide

    in its lovely first song
    when it first gave voice
    looking where to belong
    finding it’s real choice

    testing the ground
    beneath it’s feet
    standing full on it’s mound
    seeking to complete

    what was the trigger
    that made things click
    what was the thing bigger
    that did the trick

    was it a seed
    that had been planted
    to come forward, it’s need
    to be perfectly candid

    inspiration and drive
    and courage to grow
    let the newness thrive
    we’d all see it and know

    newness by itself is glory
    any which way it shows up
    just the beginning of it’s story
    a new way to fill our cup

    yes that, too, may go stale
    outgrowing it’s budding time
    it may start big and fail
    becoming some famous rhyme

    for it alone to be revealed
    it has, at least, found it’s pace
    maybe outstanding in it’s field
    we can applaud it’s place

    HAPPY NEW YEAR, SWEET POETS! WISHING US ALL THE VERY BEST IN 2023!!

  8. New Year’s Eve

    To the sound of music
    I sing an old song
    as if it’s new,
    Let ‘Em In
    to bring in 2023

    while people
    half my age cheer
    as if it’s a current hit.

    A friend I’ve known
    for two years
    is dressed in glitter.

    Under a light
    her face glows
    as new

    and we shout
    Happy New Year
    to each other

    Throughout the night
    I sing my refrains
    and resurrect
    old feelings
    as memories of love
    seek to live and live again.

    I gaze
    at glowing faces
    of youth
    and they
    applaud and cheer.

    I give new life to refrains
    deep in my heart
    to wrap up 2022
    and I anticipate
    doing them again.

  9. Enjoyed your poems, Walt and Marie! Both are so inspiring! Yes, opening more to life and love is so powerful and enriching! ‘Open’ is a beautiful word, Marie! And yes, Walt, it is up to us to choose to renew and that ‘fire’ in the belly certainly helps! Thank you for another year of poetic prompts and this creative community! Grateful for your lovely garden and for all who grow here!

  10. Forgotten Words

    Kindness and compassion
    are not new words
    just forgotten ones.
    Their meanings are
    straight forward,
    simple to comprehend.
    In this new year,
    wouldn’t it be grand
    to seek out
    those old words,
    and practice them.

  11. Mother
    New to Heaven
    Dancing with her loved ones
    Praising Jesus on streets of gold
    We’ll meet at the Gate one day

    Greta Latricia Michaud
    10 August, 1935
    28 December, 2022

    • Earl, I’m so very sorry for this enormous loss. Yet, your poem’s sentiment tells me what is in your heart, and at the heart of your beliefs. God bless you, and grant much comfort. Even though we know we will be with them again, we still sure do miss them here. ❤

  12. Renew
    My faith in You
    My prayer for all mankind
    The urgency of forever
    Our souls are in the balance

  13. OLD IS NEW, FOREVERMORE

    Once, Whittier wrote, the saddest words
    to cross the tip of tongue or pen
    are these, not salved by halves or thirds
    but simply phrased: “it might have been.”
    But when I read them, years ago,
    I thought, “This Quaker of the olden time, what does he know?”

    Today I thought of yesterdays
    and thought of words I did not say
    to one whose gay, vivacious ways
    limned all of love in full display.
    The words I had all flew askew.
    Those poets of the olden time, they knew a thing or two.

    NB: For those interested, the form used above is a minnesang.

  14. Marie, your piece recalls for me an old song about opening the heart and letting the sunshine in.

  16. In a Word

    She’d bought it
    new all those years ago
    like so many things
    scraped together savings
    points from the bank
    for half-price stoneware
    that she finally gifted
    to the girl who had the fire

    Using almost daily the soup ladle
    earned with Campbell’s wrappers
    that juts from the utensil crock

    Oh, she just had to look around
    to spot five or six more all new
    to her like the harvest gold Bundt pan
    her mother had made fun of
    as totally impractical

    But she’d loved the idea of it
    possibilities lurking in its fluted sides
    that whispered someday
    how even now she unmolds
    those chocolate-cherry cakes
    drizzled with a bit of powdered sugar
    gold etched from sliding onto
    various oven racks, houses, years

    And then there was the spring-form pan
    from the thrift store when cheesecake was
    something she’d only seen in adverts
    for Philadelphia creamed cheese
    with a dollop of cherry pie filling

    Her closet holding a black and white sweater
    that drapes below her knees she’d splurged on
    from the Goodwill to wear just because

    How each time with every post
    that delivered another little something
    she’d clawed her way up
    one more rung even though
    the top disappeared into dark
    clouds that ladder become a friend
    just like the word new edging
    out the second-hand, the broken.

  17. It was new to me…

    Here is to the person
    I do not know,
    And doubt I ever will…

    This person gave blood
    To keep other people
    Alive to live more days.

    I know it wasn’t one person
    Because I needed six transfusions…
    Just to make through more days
    So here is to the six
    That did not know
    They saved me…

    Their gift
    Gave me twenty-one more years
    To laugh, sing and cry.
    They gave me days to dance,
    And walk in my forest.
    They gave me time
    To smile when I saw the face
    Of someone I loved.
    They gave me time
    To become a better person…
    And to care for some cats
    Given as my inheritance.

    I know I may never pass their path
    Except that their blood saved me.
    It was something they gave
    Something they had more of
    And was not new to them, just
    To help someone they did not know,
    But to me
    It was new to me.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    January 2, 2023

  18. Within four Letters

    It is a simple word….
    Four letters with one repeated.
    Yet within it is
    The disappointment
    Of losing a good time,
    Or the yearning
    For someone who is lost.

    It carries the weight of death
    Of dirges, eulogies, and tears
    The weight of a casket,
    And a finished life.

    It is a wealth of memories shared,
    But will be no more.
    For sharing takes two parties…
    And now those memories
    Fall on deaf ears.

    Within those letters
    Are the words never said,
    That even if said
    Cannot be heard.

    Yet as I say those words,
    They fall flat
    For how can such a tiny
    Insignificant word carries such a burden,
    And linger so long in my soul.

    I whispered to the air…
    I will miss you…
    But how can that word convey
    The loss that I feel
    When an old friend is gone-

    It is only four letters…
    An old word that now carries
    A new meaning.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    January 2, 2023

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  22. WHO KNEW?

    New.
    New year.
    New days.
    New moments.
    New ways,
    to bring us through.

    New.
    New breath.
    New life.
    New death.
    New strife.
    New challenge.

    New.
    New grief.
    New mourning.
    New relief.
    New tide.
    New morning.

    New.
    New season.
    New opportunity.
    New storms.
    New obstacles.
    New norms.

    New.
    New pain.
    New growth.
    New healing.
    New mistakes.
    New rain.

    New.
    New news.
    New blood.
    New wounds.
    New tragedy.
    New shoes.

    New.
    New words.
    New muse.
    New miracles.
    New poetry.
    New ruse.

    Who knew?
    That new, could
    be so—new?
    What, where, who—
    would we be without it?
    Whew!

    Benjamin Thomas

  23. NEW PATIENCE

    I need….
    New patience.
    That old patience has gone—
    to waste, become old
    and decrepit.

    New mold
    has set in. Laying hold
    of that which was once
    new. Now it stinks,
    having become rotten.

    Now it’s refuse.
    Trash to be refused—
    forgotten. Oh, to be
    transfused! With the new
    spruced blood of patience!

    ©️ Benjamin Thomas

  24. NEW DESTINY

    Every.
    Day.
    Is.
    New.

    Every
    day
    is what
    we need.

    To
    take us on,
    to take us
    through.

    A new page.
    New words.
    Scribbled—inscribed.
    displayed upon your soul.
    For the ages.

    What will you do?
    Refuse the author?
    The blessed ink? A storied destiny
    that becomes you?

    ©️ Benjamin Thomas

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