“Stream Toward Unconsciousness” . . . and other poems in response to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt

“Sometimes you see a man in a restaurant reading while eating — a very commn sight. He gives you the impression of being a very busy man, with no time even for eating.  You wonder whether he eats or reads. One may say that he does both. In fact, he does neither, he enjoys neither. He is strained and disturbed in mind and he does not enjoy what he does at the moment, does not live in the present moment, but unconsciously and foolsihly tries to escape from life.”  What the Buddha Taught, Walpola Rahula

These are the responses to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt, In March, Flowering, November 21, which challenges our poets to dip their pens into stream of consciousness, a narrative style that gives the impression of the mind at work. I think Buddhists might be inclined to call this “monkey mind,” a mind that is restless, capricious, whimsical, confused, tortured, out-of-control. From a spiritual perspective, we want to still our minds, to be at peace. That’s why all our wisdom traditions encourage regular periods of prayer and meditation. In terms of writing though, I think giving in to the jumping monkey may work well.  If you find yourself blocked when you write, it’s likely that you are trying to write and edit at the same time. You’re like the man in the quotation above, really not writing or editing at all. That’s why some teachers give the advice to “just write.”  Write anything that comes to mind.  Why?  Because this takes you out of your edit mode and sets you free on the road to writing. Plenty of time to edit when your first draft it done.

I enjoyed the creative responses to this prompt.  Thanks to Paul Brookes, Irma Do, Jen Goldie and Sonja Benskin Mesher.  Thanks also to Irma and Jen for value added for me and other readers with their commentary. In addition to their words, I’ve included links to blogs or websites where available. I hope you’ll visit these poets and get to know their work better. It is likely you can catch up with others via Facebook.

Enjoy! … and do come out to play tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt.


Clamped in the upright station of the world
Drowned in the come uppance daylight
Hunkered half light knowingness
Hefts hollow along kerbside

Ferret the mammal heart of the world
Become harsh chandeliers
Become rude shoeless adjectives
verb your character into business

letteropen an alphabet of fire,
a draining board of desire
a kitchen cupboard of flesh
a knifeblock of words
unseating themselves

Griddle down lightning days
Heavying nights moisten to open
Forgiveness in a handshake of trees
a massage of fields amid the nursery
Of war

record visual media
stand to attention wall
mounted retreat into hill
stations of past lives
lived hands free
autobot rainbow of perception

Tinker, tinker with children’s toys
repair your own gored scars
fix bro
ken and Barbie cars without
wheels pieces
lost toothless jigsaw

© 2018, Paul Brookes (The Wombell Rainbow / Inspiration, History, Imagination)

The Hair

Grasp the hair of the snog
Paddle crevasses of the fog
Handle delights of worlds washbasin
Grapple sights of awful bootlacing.

Darken desperate ways wanton
Harken fenestrated days spoken
Loosen raids out into darkness
Gruesome braids entangle starkness.

Gargle the grimness of the day
Snaffle forgetfulness of yesterday
Hustle the heavenly toast buttered
Sisel roped fitness unfettered

Thimbleful of radiator love
Nimbleful of aviator dove
Hastle hungry heavy heads up
Castle chess players beds up

Delight in eyes of green and gold
Despite the sight of preen and mold
Alight the flight of mean and sold
A kite of might is lean and bold

Tucked behind the ear of a desk
rucked beyond the fear of a whelk
barrage ballooned beneficent bedlam
garaged consumed munificent headroom

Resistance is mobile
Subsistence is virile
Subsidence is active
Defiance is reactive

Pro plus days in delight
Ominous rays indelicate plight
Luminous phase conflagrate
Numinous ways profligate.

Allow broad canopies desperate energy
fall guarded heat intense jack knife
lilt motionless nervous oranges
permeate quietly rampant succumb
tremble under vernal wishes xeme your zest

© 2018, Paul Brookes (The Wombell Rainbow / Inspiration, History, Imagination)

Photographs of Delerium

Photographs of delerium deceive
Mimeographs of insects believe
Radiographs of horribilis dear
Craniographs of fabulous fear

Take the ladder of sight into home
Rake the matter of flight into loam
Brake on platters of plight into roam
Ache in tatters of light zone

Sunlight is finelight is wildlight
Lifetime is wildlife is darklife
Finelight is darktime is moonlife
Deadwild is lifelight is darktime

Seasons are ripe control artists
Autumn swells a tuber orchestra
Winter times a criminal cold watch
Spring flames a filigree wish
Summer fry

History schools disguise hinges gold
Works marks eyeteeth buys goodnews
In letters as big as you like miserable
wherever it goes at the time

History restores fire original grounds
Polished integrity shines shoes
in worn leather arette discerns all
beauty remarkable story in time

Tea towel the evidence of tears
In the fabric of a face distraught
at broken crockery of living
Dissolved in the birth of Why.

Run the tap of silence till it goes cold
Rip the shower map of patience
Undone by the bath of life
Crazy at the loss of switches

Hunt down a crisis of coffee jars
Find wonderful in a winos fears
Wind up a clock that one son
Happenstance often disappears

Hit critical button pop up dolled down whimsical forgot me not blues
Hard assed holy mother of knives
in cracked wisdom tooth news

Caustic delivery hides hints and tints
Highly organised finery total respect
Oranges juice out frets of guitars
Willingly dissect green bins

Finest disarmament heals horror filled theatres bloody cogs log timidity
Terrorise frigidity in a week of woe
a great deal more like number.

Dance time crunch time grey time
Flounce your skulls into bounce
Castles in a sky of cat bowls half eaten hidden menus of menace

Let bygones be sandwiches made for you in the neatest handwriting all over the willingness of your body of truth or dare trembles terror

So much is about where we are in our days of telling each other where we are not half suspecting they know already the half truth you give

May you dream on the edge of time with the wild things and happen upon sanity when a penny drops in the morning

© 2018, Paul Brookes (The Wombell Rainbow / Inspiration, History, Imagination)

Prolific Yorkshire Poet, Paul Brookes

FYI: Paul Brookes, a stalwart participant in The Poet by Day Wednesday Writing Prompt, is running an ongoing series on poets, Wombwell Rainbow Interviews. Connect with Paul if you’d like to be considered for an interview. Visit him, enjoy the interviews, get introduced to some poets who may be new to you, and learn a few things.

The Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Jamie Dedes


Stream Toward Unconsciousness

I am tired yet I can’t sleep

Thoughts of all the things I should have done today

That I didn’t

Thoughts of being in bed with you

yet writing and writing

the writing is getting in the way

but I have to get down these thoughts

still so many have escaped

I can’t write while I am driving

I can’t write while I am parenting

I can think of what to write but if I can’t get to the computer

if I can’t get to the pen and paper

The thought runs away

Probably the one that would have gone in that lit mag

in that e-mag

the one to win that accolade

It’s so fleeting the good words and phrases that come

In and out

I need to catch them

I need to hold them

I need to write them

I need to sleep

I need to pay attention to the children

and to you

and the laundry

Ugh I hate the laundry

and the dishes

I’m supposed to do these chores out of love for my family

But I don’t love the chores

It doesn’t mean I don’t love my family

I can show them love in other ways

by ignoring them so I can write words of love

To them for them of them

Or cooking

I love to cook

or snuggling

I love to snuggle

Or sleeping

Choosing writing over sleeping over you

But the deadline is tomorrow

There is no deadline for chores

or family or lovers

Or is there…

This stream of consciousness poem is the first I have ever written. I must admit it was a difficult write for me! I guess I usually edit my thoughts long before it reaches the paper – thinking about the words, phrases, rhythm before I even begin to type with my thumbs. Maybe because I do so much of my writing in little bits during the day on my phone, that I am loathe to edit once it’s already down. Can I blame technology for my writing style?

I wrote this piece around 2 am with a sick child who had kept me awake. I couldn’t go back to sleep since I was thinking about this prompt. I had tried a few other times to write something but kept getting interrupted or writing something that I knew wasn’t exactly stream of consciousness since I had already thought about what to write (I don’t cheat on these prompts!). It took an overtired brain to get to this un-filtered point! If I hadn’t fallen asleep, I wonder where else it might have led or if my words would have continued to perseverate….

©️ 2018, Irma Do (I Do Run, And a few other things too)

The True Artist

This is ecstasy,
This is love and lunacy,
This is the Artist.

The true artist is everyman,
Is any man,
Has a child’s sensitivity,
And knowledge only age can bring.
Unfettered of his earthly ties,
Sings through the ages,
Touching hearts, Touching minds,


Creating joy and sorrow,
In the lives
of those he meets…

© 2018, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie)


Dusk comes earlier now!
ever pleasing,
“bird on the wing.”

The Sun was out
to play today!
I turned around
and she was gone…

Welcome Night…….

© 2018, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie)

I Saw the Moon Tonight

I saw the Moon tonight!
It shone down like a beam
from heaven,
It made the stars more bright!

I’ll leave a sunshine path tomorrow,
That’s what I’ll do!
Wherever I go,
I’ll leave a little light,
enough for you to follow.

In celebration of the Moon Beam.

If you follow the light
You will see me there,
When you follow the light,
You will know I care.

© 2018, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie)

I had a marvelous Professor who stressed “Stream of Consciousness” as a method of writing. My first awakening to this was looking at a tree. Simply a tree. I hadn’t realized why I love images of trees until just now. He emphasized being in the moment, which is so fleeting. If the moment moves you to write. You MUST write!
“I saw the Moon tonight!
It shone down like a beam from heaven.
And made the stars more bright.”
Its the moments that most people miss in life. A poet cherishes those moments, and from what I’ve seen so far, all of the people who have graciously shared their moments with us have been “In the Moment”.

© 2018, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie)

..you ask me to explain..

it is said i write abstract, in time to save

your feelings. you asked me to explain,

i did so lightly. the other said no one else

dare ask.

i tell you it is a full and complicated story

that may upset.

i wrote it quickly using shape,colour,

metaphor and symbol.

was loathe to read it for i may cry.

you wish a pretty picture yet i cannot

make it.

i thank you for asking, where others

do not read.

the writing circled

© 2018, Sonja Benskin Mesher

.the dying field.

dense night ; memorial

green underhedge ; hoar

frost ; rhythms of black

birds ; black

jack ; flap


stream of conciousness

there is no rhyme

these recollections ; another time

eighteen hundred

eighteen hundred

too many dead

© 2018, Sonja Benskin Mesher






Poet and writer, I was once columnist and associate editor of a regional employment publication. I currently run this site, The Poet by Day, an information hub for poets and writers. I am the managing editor of The BeZine published by The Bardo Group Beguines (originally The Bardo Group), a virtual arts collective I founded.  I am a weekly contributor to Beguine Again, a site showcasing spiritual writers. My work is featured in a variety of publications and on sites, including: Levure littéraure, Ramingo’s PorchVita Brevis Literature,Compass Rose, Connotation PressThe Bar None GroupSalamander CoveSecond LightI Am Not a Silent PoetMeta / Phor(e) /Play, and California Woman. My poetry was recently read by Northern California actor Richard Lingua for Poetry Woodshed, Belfast Community Radio. I was featured in a lengthy interview on the Creative Nexus Radio Show where I was dubbed “Poetry Champion.”

 The BeZine: Waging the Peace, An Interfaith Exploration featuring Fr. Daniel Sormani, Rev. Benjamin Meyers, and the Venerable Bhikkhu Bodhi among others

“What if our religion was each other. If our practice was our life. If prayer, our words. What if the temple was the Earth. If forests were our church. If holy water–the rivers, lakes, and ocean. What if meditation was our relationships. If the teacher was life. If wisdom was self-knowledge. If love was the center of our being.” Ganga White, teacher and exponent of Yoga and founder of White Lotus, a Yoga center and retreat house in Santa Barbara, CA

“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton