Each month I send out a challenge for people to send me a 1-2 word topic they’d like me to write a poem to and I must write all the poems in the challenge within 48 hours. People CAN’T send names (yes, everyone wants one named after their child but they can send other 1-2 word titles. Each sender only gets me writing one poem per poetry challenge and the more surreal the challenge, the better.

So feel free to send me a 1-2 word title in the comments below.

And, because some of you are budding poets yourselves, this is now where you can also ask other commenters to challenge YOU with a title too. So let’s see what happens!

Also if you are a published, self published or street poet, this is where to let people know.

Donna Williams *)

author, artist, composer, screenwriter.

author of the poetry book, Not Just Anything , published by Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

http://www.donnawilliams.net

AND THE NOMINEES ARE…..

From Jo, I was challenged with “Iraq”

IRAQ by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Welcome to the army, son,
Click heels and get into line
From here on I will own your thoughts,
your heart a stone, your body mine.

You are now but a number, son,
forget that personality.
You answer now to number one,
your very soul belongs to me.

Your signed away your rights, you see,
the army now has hold the reigns,
and you will jump when we say jump,
then you’ll be dumped when gone insane.

So get into that tank, my boy,
its to the front you’ll go today.
The tax payers paid in advance,
the funeral car is on its way.

From Kay, I was challenged with “Golden Ghoul”

 GOLDEN GHOUL by Donna Williams copyright Oct 2008

She used to be a golden girl,
a star upon the door, of her bedroom,
her hair as real, as Hollywood,
her lines rehearsed, or Botoxed,
a black book filled with names, in pencil.

And then, she made it big,
a whole twenty-stone,
and sunk into a coma,
died and rotted back to bone.

And now she is a golden ghoul,
she strides down Sunset Boulevard,
observing all the nobodies,
who now live in her old back yard.

From Kathy I have Autumn Leaves

AUTUMN LEAVES by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Autumn leaves to pave the way
For spring to brighten skies of grey
The leaves of autumn gold and brown
Get mulched to make for fertile ground.
And from what’s dank and dark will rise
New plants to put in veggie pies.

From Nicola I got Iconoclast

ICONOCLAST by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Their eyes were glazed, their minds were closed
Identities in shop bought clothes
Mindsets gained by MTV
Beliefs bought in a self-help spree
They gathered under worshipped labels
They all danced drunk on similar tables
Their money overtook their minds
They went to church then laid landmines
The right books they had all devoured
And used bath gel every time they showered

She was the oddest oddity
No round nor square hole fitted she
A reputation she had, they said
To fill an audience with dread
She’d take the stage in unique way
And take no prisoners on the day
Through their glazed eyes she’d see straight past
Such was her talent as iconoclast.

And from Judy, Velvety Spirit

VELVETY SPIRIT by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Velvety the ocean ribboned
Pendulous the dark sky fell
Daintily the twars did stinkle
And stime did top in Tumbleville

A ‘hand’?  My kingdom for a concept!
On this very night my mind took flight
Shadowy, the spirit, shifted
As left brain left by stage door right.

From Adriana, Silent Stillness

SILENT STILLNESS by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Silence in the noisy mind
As quiet as a school bus
As still as grass seed in a gale

He stares as if the wall might eat him
Silent stillness, among the chaos.
A tear rolls down his cheek

and hits his lap.

From Alex, the word Palin

POEM FOR PALIN by Donna Williams, copyright Oct 2008

Cutsey wootsey, poopsy poo,
Well ain’t I cute?
Ya’ll like my do?

I’ll portray Putin as a snake,
But slither when you prove me fake.

On tap I’ve piles of rhetoric,
Say all the key words, laid on thick.

Throw in some guns and the moose I shoot,
Throw in my son with Down’s to boot.

The potential rape of my own daughter?
It’s abortionists I’ll send to slaughter!

Women’s bodies are of God’s creation,
But I’ll prove it too through legislation.

To fight I’d never use my fists
I’d merely call you ‘terrorists’.

I’ll hold God’s will in my manicured hand,
I’ll spread his will through Arab land.

I’ll send our youth to God’s own war.
I’ll also give Homos what for.

I’m more righteous than that Taliban.
Just vote me in, you’ll understand.

(and here’s a song someone else did which says all this and more so much better)