Everyone Should Have a Chair, a poem . . . and your next Wednesday Writing Prompt

“You don’t just want to sit in a chair.
You want to experience it!” Anthony T. Hincks (1833-1839), Unitarian Minister, Naturalist



Everyone should have a chair
A big brown teddy-bear of a chair
Monstrous huge
To hold you in a gentle teddy hug
While you, poeming and bookworming
Sip steaming oolong and
Nibble petite madeleines

© 2008, Jamie Dedes

WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

THEME: Do you have a favorite chair or a favorite place (maybe a café) for writing. Tell us in your poem/s and …

  • please submit your poem/s by pasting them into the comments section and not by sharing a link
  • please submit poems only, no photos, illustrations, essays, stories, or other prose

PLEASE NOTE:

  • only those poems on theme and shared in the comments section under this post will be published. 


Poems submitted through email or Facebook will not be published.

IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These are partnered with your poem/s on first publication.

PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.  

Deadline:  Monday, September 16 by 8 pm Pacific Time. If you are unsure when that would be in your time zone, check The Time Zone Converter.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you.

You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.


ABOUT 

Jamie Dedes. I’m a Lebanese-American freelance writer, poet, content editor, blogger and the mother of a world-class actor and mother-in-law of a stellar writer/photographer. No grandchildren, but my grandkitty, Dahlia, rocks big time. I am hopelessly in love with nature and all her creatures. In another lifetime, I was a columnist, a publicist, and an associate editor to a regional employment publication. I’ve had to reinvent myself to accommodate scarred lungs, pulmonary hypertension, right-sided heart failure, connective tissue disease, and a rare managed but incurable blood cancer. The gift in this is time for my primary love: literature. I study/read/write from a comfy bed where I’ve carved out a busy life writing feature articles, short stories, and poetry and managing The BeZine and its associated activities and The Poet by Day jamiededes.com, an info hub for writers meant to encourage good but lesser-known poets, women and minority poets, outsider artists, and artists just finding their voices in maturity. The Poet by Day is dedicated to supporting freedom of artistic expression and human rights.  Email thepoetbyday@gmail.com for permissions, commissions, or assignments.

Testimonials / Disclosure / Facebook

Recent and Upcoming in Digital Publications Poets Advocate for Peace, Justice, and Sustainability, YOPP! , September * The Damask Garden, In a Woman’s Voice, August 11, 2019 / This short story is dedicated to all refugees. That would be one in every 113 people. * Five poems, Spirit of Nature, Opa Anthology of Poetry, 2019 * From the Small Beginning, Entropy Magazine (Enclave, #Final Poems), July 2019 * Over His Morning Coffee, Front Porch Review, July 2019 * Three poems, Our Poetry Archive, September 2019


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

12 thoughts on “Everyone Should Have a Chair, a poem . . . and your next Wednesday Writing Prompt

  1. Here’s my response Jamie and I do hope you’re feeling better. I do hope I haven’t pasted it twice!

    The Rocking Chair

    It gleams
    genuine teakwood I’m told

    so smooth

    ideal for dreaming through a tv show
    contemplating voices in my head
    staring at finely worked saptaparni
    leaves past a money plant
    frothing the window ledge and
    a white metal flash of car roof
    reflected in the pumpkin soup
    in my white ceramic spoon

    and carved too

    ideal for leaning into the pillowed
    back, cancelling muscles and
    joints completely

    heavy-set

    rocks gently
    not the best place to work alert
    at anything remotely productive
    and yet it can be

    durable

    for I carry its numbing ease
    through the day
    enduring between thoughts
    that flow between the glazed
    slats imprinted on my mind

    so durable

    one day it’ll carry mine
    without me

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The Rocking Chair

    It gleams
    genuine teakwood I’m told

    so smooth

    ideal for dreaming through a tv show
    contemplating voices in my head
    staring at finely worked saptaparni
    leaves past a money plant
    frothing the window ledge and
    a white metal flash of car roof
    reflected in the pumpkin soup
    in my white ceramic spoon

    and carved too

    ideal for leaning into the pillowed
    back, cancelling muscles and
    joints completely

    heavy-set

    rocks gently
    not the best place to work alert
    at anything remotely productive
    and yet it can be

    durable

    for I carry its numbing ease
    through the day
    enduring between thoughts
    that flow between the glazed
    slats imprinted on my mind

    so durable

    one day it’ll carry mine
    without me

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A Strawberry-Red Sofa

    Give me the warmth
    of a padded sofa
    where I can cat-curl
    with pen and notebook.

    I could ink my poems
    at a mahogany bureau:
    a gift from Mum and Dad
    when I passed my 11-plus.

    A place to read books
    and write essays
    for English homework.
    The Haunted House.

    A Rainy Night
    and later, A-level critiques
    of The Windhover
    and The Wasteland.

    I could replace
    the bureau’s worn hinges
    and search old words
    locked in wood-memory.

    But give me comfort
    and today’s open page.
    A family living room
    with deep-pile rugs.

    A strawberry-red sofa
    with three plump cushions,
    wide windows
    onto my garden

    and a view of treetops,
    T.V. aerials, satellite dishes
    and cotton-wool clouds
    dreaming across the sky.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. greetings and gratitude from LA ❤

    you buy we fry

    my favorite chair
    are the sidewalks
    those in the 20’s and 30’s
    edge of downtown streets
    a mix of rustic houses
    shacks and alley ways
    some with flowers
    some with trash
    my favorite chair
    is not comforting at first
    it affords me front row view
    to the less palatable aspects
    of genteel society
    exposed vaginas cocks
    twisted tongues
    defecation out of
    hundreds of orifices
    then there’s the strip mall chair
    with the upright and honest
    vendor my favorite one
    is Donicio from Panama
    he has a way of telling
    funny stories
    across from there
    is another chair
    ‘you buy, we fry’
    it’s mostly busy
    on the sabbath
    my eyes their
    veils of formal education
    lifted and the life of life
    exposed to all my senses
    there is something thrilling
    about hopscotching through
    dog shit in a city
    that treats us all the same
    my favorite chair
    in the bars of the people
    although people aren’t
    what they used to be
    my amiga Casimira
    has the latest I Phone
    when i want to look in to
    her deep brown eyes
    and have her Oaxacan accent
    transport me to another land
    especially on jury duty day
    to no avail
    i lost my friend
    to the latest pop up store
    at the end of most days
    when the journey’s done
    i go home to my derelict
    dog and two jaded kitties
    with caffeine in one hand
    Phoebe Ann the cat on my lap
    the memories of my rest stops
    deposited silently
    in the removable data bank

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Old, young, he or she
    Everyone shouts after me 😀
    because everybody likes
    happy to be
    While you are human being so
    Everyone should have a chair, a poem requests
    Old, young, he or she
    Everyone shouts after me 😀
    We are human beings 😊

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Hi Jamie… here’s my poem in response to today’s prompt:

    The Mountain

    The mountain calls
    Draws me to her slopes
    Overlooking the world below
    Above, my perspective changed
    The solitude is freedom
    A peace and rest
    To forgive
    Begin again
    Mind clear of every expectation
    My thoughts flow
    Responding to the mountain

    © 2019 Jason A. Muckley

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Hi Jamie,

    Here’s my response:

    Everywhere is my favourite place to sit and write.

    Every weather notes made in the pad of my brain.

    Sat on metal forms in cemeteries gusted by autumn, deep in leaf litter.

    Sat on metal forms in towns while Dippers dip around, and shoppers hustle their lists into bags.

    Sat in my garden as the pears blush with the last few days of rain,
    ready for the fall and separation from their mam.

    Sat at home in the leather armchair my muse curls up in my lap after a good scratch, her small heart taps and purrs a rhythm on my thigh.

    Liked by 2 people

Thank you!

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