VANISHING SOLUTION . . . and other responses to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt

“In the long run, the sharpest weapon of all is a kind and gentle spirit.”
The Diary of Anne Frank, Anne Frank

The last Wednesday Writing Prompt, Plotting a Story, January 31, 2019 was a real challenge and it speaks volumes that it is so very difficult for us to envision a world where murder, torture, separation, and starvation are no longer options.  What would such a world look like? Intrepid souls all, Gary W. Bowers, Irma Do, Jen Goldie and Anjum Wasim Dar have risen to the occasion.  Well done, poets, and thank you!

Enjoy this little collection and do join us tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt.

dew unto others

suddenly dew
turned blue and combusted
trustworthy wherewithal
came with the aerosol

all who breathed hue
once spewed-hate-encrusted
dusted off bigotry
shed their misanthropy

new things to do
included feasts mustered
for clusters of needy
and all were ungreedy

arcadia stew
and utopia custard
frustrated our devils
and we reached new levels

all due to a psychologist
and major-league geneticist
and freejack climatologist
enacting armagenesis

her name was diana
euglena endora
late of tijuana
born in bora bora

when asked of the process
she wasn’t specific:
“i alchemized raw cess
found in the pacific

“a punster’s emotion
bears brunt/onus/blame
for making an ocean
live up to its name.”

© 2019, Gary W. Bowers (On With Clay / Image and Text)

Vanishing Solution – A Rubaiyat

To vanquish all the demons of senseless aggression

The women left, with children on hips, for vacation

Without the men and older ones, corrupted too soon

In the middle of the night, they left without resignation.

It started with whispers under the heartbroken moon

Mothers left behind who wanted to hear a new tune

The song of “I’m sorry” for rape, murder, starvation

Made for a hollow dirge in the empty baby room.

Without any recourse than to cry and wail with rage

The women made a plan to change the history page

Eve’s disobedience might be original sin

But Cain killing Able spotlight the violent stage

Without testosterone, how/where would the anger begin?

It became clear that peace could never start from within

Add in voices loud with societal machismo

Can’t unlearn this behavior yet men had no chagrin

It took years to create the perfect utopia

Women agreed there was only one panacea

As much as it hurt to acknowledge the truth of it

Leave them behind, the only viable idea.

After kisses and climaxes for the lucky ones,

And tender tough love goodbyes for those who had older sons

The women vanishing in one night of defiance

Bringing babies, clothes, food, seeds, tools to create, no guns

When the world awoke, there was silence then confusion

There was crying and wailing and raging delusion

The accusations turned deadly with no end in sight

The world was burning, cleansing all those in collusion

And the women waited, teaching their children new ways

With emotional regulation, without fake praise

Listening, reflection, the basis for discussion

Decisions consensus, not perfect, a better phase.

Is separation the best course of action for now?

Or work hard together and put our backs to the plough?

I don’t know the answer or the moral of this tale

To change our world, what are we willing to disavow?

This is my first attempt at a rubaiyat – inspired by Frank Hubeny at dVerse call to action. Feedback is welcome and most appreciated!

The theme is in response to Patrick’s Pic and a Word Challenge #172 – Vanishing as well as Jamie Dedes’ Wednesday Writing Prompt. Jamie’s prompt this week deserved a lot of thought – it was hard (for me at least) to imagine what a world would be like without murder, torture, starvation. In writing this poem, I am NOT saying that all the bad in the world are due to men but statistically, most of the violence in the world are perpetuated by those with a Y chromosome.

I don’t think separation is the answer. As the saying goes, if you’re not part of the solution…however, sometimes I do just want to take a vacation from all the strife I hear about in the world. Yet, where would we go?

©️ 2019, Irma Do (I Do Run … And I do a few other things too)

He came to the end of the road,
looked left and looked right,
He feared looking forward.
His father once said,
Endings are beginnings
Concealed as doors,
and hidden from view, so,
Seek your way through.
But these doors were murky,
Hard and impervious,
Stained with blood and bone
by the scratching of nails on
the aged worn wood,
yearning for freedom,
tears have etched trails, with
deepening grooves of sadness,
in its woody worn frame.
These are days to remember,
Not days to forget.
Solemnly he gazed
into his Father’s vacant eyes,
and sighed,
We’ll find a way through.

© 2019, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie, Poetry and Short Stories)

The Noonday Place

Where are you going son?
To the Noonday Place Papa.
Where’s that son?
Where the sun shines!
And where the light lives!
The light Son?
Yes! the light!
Where the children play!
It’s a living place Papa,
A living place?
Yes papa!
No hurting, no fighting
No guns.
Where the flowers bloom
Where the birds sing
Where the rivers run.
Is that all son?
Is that all you need?
Yes Papa.
Alright Son
Thy will be done.

© 2019, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie, Poetry and Short Stories)

Still, Silent and Serene

23319098_1873071902708343_3608095764492300486_n (1)
no murder, nor starvation or separation
no people to torture, now you shall
see, no enemy

warm feelings smiling  eyes, cool
raindrops dropping  from the skies,
on  a green carpeted vast  expanse
embroidered from edge to edge,
said the one who saw the white horse run

no guns, no rifles or grenades
no barbed wires or walls، who
would ever think of sinning

 not one all would be in, for Heaven
said the one who saw the fiery horse driven

the Earth grows green, sweet gold
honey abounds 
even if we eat it all,
there is more and more ,for the
seasons changing, times coming-

said the one who saw the black horse fall.

the  showers bloom the buds
life reawakens from deep slumber
graves descend to the depths beneath
disease defeated  must await its orders
said the one who saw the pale horse chained,

the world in perpetual beauty
peace silence fragrance abound
streams crystalline carry music
no shots nor blasts anywhere sound

no envy or pride, nor greed nor 
sloth to slow and hide all good
behind, go not for lust, for dust
we are and shall  to dust, return,
said the one who saw four horses gallop away

the world is still silent and serene.

©2019, poem (English and Urdu) and illustration, Anjum Wasim Dar (Poetic Oceans)

یہ  دنیا  کیسی ھو اگر ظلم و تشدد قتل و غارت فاقہ کشی و جدایؑ نہ ھو

دنیا کی حقیقت  بس ؑ عارظی و فانی  اک   مدت   مقرر ہ   تک  ھے
گر ظلم و تشدد  قتل و فاقہ کشی نہ ھو تو کویؑ دشمن بھی نہ ھو

محبت بھری مسکراھٹ  ٹھنڈی بوںدوں کے موتی سبز وسعت پہ گرتے ھوں
 کنارے سے کنارے تک نقش و نیگار  کھلتے ھوں تو سب پر امن کیوں نہ ھوں

نہ ھتھیار نہ جنگ، نہ خاردار تار نا دیوار  ایسے ماحول میں کون گنہگار ھو
کیوں کر ممکن ھوجب  نہ خطاوار نہ  مجرم تو  کویؑ  محسن  بھی  نہ  ھو

    ھریالی زمیں  روانی شہد  خوراک کی فراوانی  موسم کی لازوال کہانی ھو  
  خوش حالی و  سکوں، کیسے ممکں ھے  کہ پایلؑ  کی  جھن جھن  بھی نہ ھو

 ھسین  رنگین  دنیا،  عارطی ھے پیرہن، زندہ رہیں کہ  فلحال  امراز مر چکے
      نفرت نہ غرور نہ لالچ کریں انجم ، من پاک ھو ،  میلا مگر تن بھی نہ ھو

یہ دنیا پر سکوں خاموش اور خو بصورت ھی ھو گی

“POETRY PEACE and REFORM Go Together -Let Us All Strive for PEACE on EARTH for ALL -Let Us Make a Better World -WRITE To Make PEACE PREVAIL.” Anjum Wasim Dar






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