if your heart is broken make art with the pieces.” Shane Koyczan, Blueprint for a Breakthrough



The fetus floating in the amniotic sac
Is a bridge from the land of dreams to
The world of fate, as love might say,
In its single-eyed devotion to trust
Days and nights pass, smiles and tears
And faith, as easy to deliver as berries
To a child, a wedding ring to a husband,
Belief in your country’s flag floating on
The winds of time and place, or to parents
Ever at the ready with generous hearts
Only awaken one day to find the berries are
Dusted with Roundup, the wedding ring
Emptied of its symbol, the flag torn by
A few bad players, and mom and dad
Not always the gifts of grace hoped for
Onward you go, escape by night and the
Yellow glow of lamplight, the book of
Poetry, stories shared, music played,
The color-play of arts and crafts, sweet
To savor in the face of deception,
Practiced with intent or not, but there it is
We live with it, and live is central
Reinventing ourselves, ever resilient

© 2020, Jamie Dedes

WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

This week’s prompt is “deception” and it is the suggestion of Anjum Wasim Dar (Poetic Oceans). You are welcome to approach this theme from any direction: relationships, self-deception, politics, religion … it’s up to you.  Share you poem or poems 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:

Poems submitted through email or Facebook will not be published.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, January by 20 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.


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33 Comments

  1. Hello Jamie! Sneaking in again…a simple haiku for a not so simple prompt…

    “Self – Deception”

    If I don’t swallow
    the lie you put on my plate
    My stomach grumbles

    So many great responses this week!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Respected Jamie Ji
    Some lines shared….

    Obreption rampant,
    post fall disobedience
    leads to destruction,

    color, creed or race,
    one good in grace, one in face,
    a face meeting a face,

    lost heaven, fate doomed,
    no fear, nor lessons taken,
    why still, false beguile ?

    crimes committed in
    conniption,subreption reigns,
    gold saves savages,

    misprision, denial,
    a trendy Bohemian style
    Ah, but for a while,

    the rich may stand tall,
    puppets, idols, mafia,
    deception soon dies.

    Resile falsehood, then,
    discern truth,adapt, accept,
    wait, be blessed by Light !

    Copyright 2020 Anjum Wasim Dar

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A Note from an Irate Black Woman

    This a note from an irate black woman who still lives in hope despite the intolerance, the racism, the violence perpetrated against black people a direct result of the massive deception that justified the oppression of Africans forcing them into slavery using Christianity to camouflage greed and lust in a quest for money and for power…passed on through the generations to the hypocritical leaders of today still making obeisance to hate, the almighty dollar, and to avarice.

    The image of Jesus changed “in the twinkling of an eye” from a brown man to a white man…a lie painted by a famous painter commissioned for this duplicity by a leader in the 15th century to paint and portray his son as Jesus another twist in the use and abuse of our Lord and Savior… Jesus the God of Love sent by the Father from heaven above to set our souls free filling our hearts with empathy for our fellow man.

    Deceptive politicians and devious people hide behind the name of Jesus condoning liars pants all afire and ablaze with animosity wreaking havoc and bloodshed keeping the poor in subjugation hungry living out their lives in desolation…condoning war mongers in their insensitivity as they split up immigrant families…condoning bigotry as it destroys health care for the needy…where is mercy? where is New Testament charity in the land of plenty?

    Jesus tells us to love God, love our neighbor even love our enemy. He comforts us in our deepest depression because He is our friend in the midst of feelings of isolation…He gives us a spiritual peace as we travel through the muck and the mire of this earthly existence releasing our innermost feelings to “the Creator of the ends of the earth”, to our God who sits “high and looks low”, to God the Father who is in control of this universe.

    “On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Anthony Gormley’s Quantum Cloud

    A thousand metal struts thrum
    in a quantum cloud
    like a giant version of pick-a-stick
    as you slowly circle round
    you create a human spirit after all
    the world’s sages talk of an energy
    body distinct from what your eyes
    tell you going beyond Single Vision
    you are a collaborator
    with the maverick metaphysician’s
    uncertainty principle and slowly
    together you populate space time.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Righteousness

    We are living in a time of certain doubt.
    Cruel men and mean women
    wielding their self-anointed power of bibles.
    Piously pulling verses over our eyes.
    Poisoning us with dark lies.
    Wretched faces hating at me from tv screens
    screeching eternal damnation screams
    in the name of their gods.
    Americas royal lineage of preachers and politicians.
    Immersed in godly superstitions.
    With every breath condemn us to a hellfire rain
    on an endless trek of tears
    death
    and pain.
    Vengefully severed from the promised garden.
    Surrounded by wailing walls of lamentation.
    Rising from the volcanic mud of beasts
    they prey upon us at their sin eaters feasts.
    Death makes angels and devils of us all.
    Made naked born to suffer for your heaven rewards.
    Crucifix around my neck
    ‘hail mary’ on my lips.
    Contemplating murder
    or
    forgiveness.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. .thanks Jamie.

    :: the invitation ::
    i issue one invitation only, if you respond. a quaint
    old fashioned idea, that we may be friends.

    please come, talk ,take a drink, walk with me.

    let us get to know each other, gently. not fall into bed.

    do not over stay the welcome, 50 minutes will suffice.

    breaking cups,spilling tea will abuse the hospitality

    please come. i have the kettle on. this is not the time

    for hostilities. beware those tendencies to deceive,

    to live in trees. this double spacing annoying me.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. “Blessed Are the Rich”

    Blessed are the rich
    For they shall inherit the meek
    And enslave them.
    Blessed are the rich
    Who will inherit new worlds to suck dry
    After they have sucked dry our only world.
    Blessed are the rich
    Who make their own blessings
    And the gods to bless them.
    Cursed are the poor
    Who bow down to worship
    The gods of the rich,
    Who count the blessings of the rich
    Who are sucked dry by the rich
    Who are enslaved by the rich.
    Cursed are the poor
    Who bless the curse of meekness
    For their children to inherit.

    September 20, 2019

    (c) Mike Stone

    Liked by 1 person

  8. “Hatred”

    And the prophet stood among a few people.
    In the marketplace of ideas, there were many prophets
    But this prophet spoke quietly. He said
    Hatred is not a state of mind
    That one can enter and leave at will;
    It is a road that starts in innocence
    Leading ever downhill
    And ends in unplumbed evil.
    I don’t tell you turn the other cheek
    When struck, as another prophet said,
    But I say don’t answer hatred with hatred.
    Hatred comes from ignorance of others,
    Thinking they are not like us,
    That they don’t love their children
    Or honor their parents
    Or fear for their future as we do.
    Why not answer hatred with hatred?
    Because it creates a circle without exit or break
    And perhaps their hatred comes from
    Honoring their past or fearing their future.
    What should you do?
    When you understand those whom you call “other”
    You will know what to do, and hate
    Will wither like dry tumbleweed in the desert
    Because there is no other,
    There is only us.

    August 20, 2019

    (c) Mike Stone

    Liked by 1 person

  9. “Then as Now”

    The sweet pungency of rose and violets
    Floats on the gentle breezes
    And down the road a ways the church bells toll
    As they did then.

    At the shooting range, you still see bullet holes
    But they buried all the targets in mass graves,
    Not helter-skelter like some graveyards,
    But very orderly as they were then.

    The tall poplar trees surround electric fences,
    They seem inviting, leaves rustling in the breeze,
    A nightmare inside a blonde and blue-eyed dream,
    As it was then.

    They scrub the showers, ovens, and the smokestacks,
    The red brick raw and spotless.
    A pile of shoes stands in silent accusation
    But no one hears, then as now.

    August 2, 2019

    (c) Mike Stone

    Like

  10. “The Colossal Feats of Ramses Two”

    Ramses Two, Ozymandias, third king of the nineteenth dynasty,
    Son of Seti One or the sun, as you would have us believe,
    Conqueror of Nubia, Libya, Canaan, Syria, and the Hittites,
    Enslaver of the Hebrews who carried your pyramids on their broken backs,
    You built temples to forgotten gods,
    Cities buried under shifting sand dunes,
    And colossal statues of yourself in stone
    Commemorating your colossal feats for all posterity
    Striking awe and terror in your peoples’ hearts,
    Intimidating those who would invade,
    But all that remains are the colossal feet,
    The rest resides in a British museum.
    Your mummied body, five foot seven,
    Hunched over ancient arthritis and abscessed teeth,
    Is now in some Parisian museum viewed by
    Heartless bodies with a plane to catch.
    If you could see yourself as we see you now,
    The submerged relics of your once and future greatness,
    Would you have thought it worth your efforts
    And not a waste of precious life?
    Life crashes through all of us,
    As through paper walls or
    Trampling you and me like blades of grass
    Under a careless runner’s feet
    To reach some distant star.

    July 4, 2019

    (c) Mike Stone

    Liked by 2 people

  11. “Used to Be”

    Used to be
    Evil was more personal.
    You had to be there to do it.
    Now just somebody doing his job
    (Someone has to do it).
    A small child all curled up
    Hugging the floor
    Because there’s nothing else to hug
    Thinking maybe that will protect him
    Feed him.
    An old woman
    Survived the Holocaust
    The concentration camps
    The selections
    Her bare-lightbulb
    Peeling walled room
    Filled with shiny new exercise equipment
    Carrot peelers turkey stuffers satellite radios back scratchers
    And other stuff she didn’t need
    Because she couldn’t say no
    To the nice lady on the phone.
    The trees being cut down
    And people cows factories and cars
    Blowing carbon into the sky
    Til the last one of us drops breathless
    To the ground he made great again
    While our world went to hell.
    Used to be good
    Though there always was some evil
    But you could always see it coming
    From a mile or two away
    And the world was always greater.

    June 25, 2019

    (c) Mike Stone

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Not sure if this fits the bill, Anjum, Jamie but here’s a poem.

    Truth?
    The grain in the wood tells the story of years gone
    Circles of time etched in its rich veins in sepia tone

    The rain soaked wood has the tales of trees,
    Hardened by sun and heat, cooled by breeze

    Truth in its core displayed for all to see
    the passage of time, centuries evoke
    or

    Lies?
    Our lives are an illusion, maya, grasping wealth
    in those brief years on earth, ego swelling stealth

    Memories soften with age, truth or lies?
    Images flash by in one’s inner eye, as one tries

    A legacy, an image, transparent as gossamer
    dust to dust, body interred, king or commoner.

    Liked by 2 people

  13. Oh Allah Almighty You created a bright shining star, gifted it with brilliance and excellence, a constellation of beautiful artistic language , the understanding and compassion for humanity.
    Respected Jamie Ji, You are a precious gem with effulgent kindness spreading the power of motivation and courage for others. Please accept profound gratitude for the prompt this week-The poem is par excellence. Thank you , Jazakallah Khair.

    Liked by 1 person

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