Creepy crud and Elmer Fudd

I just want to get lost
in words I can feel,
immerse myself in things
that are anything but real.

No more creepy crud
or boring Elmer Fudd,
I need to escape into a world
that isn’t such a dud.

I want swirling galaxies
to come sweep me off my feet
and imaginative stories
where I can actually feel the heat.

Bring me to exotic places
where anything can exist,
show me all the things
that you know I can’t resist.

Lead me to a world,
one I’ve never known;
let me see your universe
and make it all your own.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/gothic-goth-fantasy-cosmos-galaxy-3623555/

Writing prompt: Creepy crud and Elmer Fudd

Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Pencil topper stew
just wouldn’t do,
but that was all she had
to feed her crew.

So she went to the store
to buy some beans,
but the brand she wanted
were all bursting at the seams.

So she thought for a minute
about what to do
because bursting beans
would need some sort of glue.

The corn looked good,
so she settled on that,
and then she went home
and put it all in a big vat.

By early that evening,
she had an amazing brew,
and even though a tad bit salty,
it was still a hearty stew.

Her kids were all grateful,
and with tummy’s filled to the brim,
they all settled down
to watch some Grimm.

It wasn’t very long
before the kiddies all crashed,
so she nestled them in their beds
while they dreamt of succotash.

Before long, it was her turn
to finally drift away,
catching the midnight train to dreamland;
she was at last gone on a holiday.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/candle-extinguished-smoke-wick-2358276/

Writing prompt: Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Gibberish gents and dog-eared doohickies

I once spent a tarnished red cent
for a man who was undeniably hell-bent
on being an obnoxious
and gibberish gent.

And I knew for certain
I shouldn’t have wasted my token,
but I felt so sorry
when the man’s doohickey became broken.

To this day, I still wonder
if I’ll ever finally learn
not to let a man’s problems be
of any of my concern.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-woman-depression-3629520/

Writing prompt: Gibberish gents and dog-eared doohickies

Cranberry shag carpet and glinting gizmos

Gadgets and gizmos,
trinkets with silvery trims,
these were the things
that were most important to him.

The old, cranberry carpet
was forever threadbare,
but that was no worry
because daddy didn’t care.

His only real concern
were his shiny new toys,
and when mama would yell,
he’d just block out the noise.

The house was rather unkempt
and in dire need of repair,
but my dear old dad,
he never did despair.

He’d just shrug his shoulders,
in his nonchalant way, because
there was nothing he loved more
than all his junk and disarray.

I think mama finally gave up
cause she knew she’d never win.
Nobody could ever change him;
it’s just the way he’s always been.

I guess I’m secretly proud
that he never gave in.
I think people should stay true
to their passions within.

There’s no telling who he’d be
if mama had had her way,
and I surely wouldn’t be
the person I am today.

So thank you, Dad,
for being true to who you are.
I still love you so very much,
even from afar.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/auto-car-garage-auto-shop-vintage-1868726/

Writing prompt: Cranberry shag carpet and glinting gizmos

Vibrant verbena and alabaster artichokes

The verbena still grows
lovelier than ever,
vibrant in violet,
ever reaching toward
the noonday sun.

And yet here I am
in a state of utter confusion,
still looking at the world
through the dullest
shades of gray.

I’m increasingly in awe
of all the flowers in the fields,
the way they sit so simply,
poised in elegance
and imbued with grace.

I reckon I’m more like
the alabaster artichokes,
colorless and thorny on the edges,
still waiting for my chance to revel
in the realm of my full potential.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/flowers-verbena-violet-blossom-756181/

Writing prompt: Vibrant verbena and alabaster artichokes

All grown up…

For many years,
I played all the games,
and I continued to play
while the fun lasted.

But winning got old
when nobody was left
to see me win, so in the end
I gave up playing.

I know you’re probably
still playing all the games,
and that’s great,
I hope you are.

But for me, I think I’m
too grown up for games,
so I’m leaving all the wins
to you.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/converse-classic-retro-vintage-2485685/

Writing prompt: Spoiled brats and games like that

*I decided to repost this one today since it goes with the prompt challenge for this month. I know I’m kinda cheating here as far as National Poetry Month goes, but I just didn’t feel like doing this prompt again.

Rosy red petunias and pretty pickled peanuts

Ravishing in red
She’s pretty as a petal
Just pitch the peanuts

© 2021 Michelle Cook

*And yet another one of my writing prompts doomed from the start. Where do I come up with these? 🙄


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/dancer-dress-sunset-sky-cloud-red-2793110/

Writing prompt: Rosy red petunias and pretty pickled peanuts

Hip hopping hoodlums and rash inducing radishes

Toxic thugs triumph
Causing skin crawling issues
Some blame radishes

© 2021 Michelle Cook

*I can’t believe I thought for one moment that I could successfully use this prompt, and I’m not sure how I even came up with this prompt in the first place. But when you’re conspiring with a twelve year old, anything can happen. 😉 I’m determined to keep my writing streak all month though. So please just shake your head and be on your way. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/man-secret-face-mysterious-whisper-4393964/

Please enjoy all the writing prompts found on my other blog: Hip hopping hoodlums and rash inducing radishes

Inky blackness and the faintest glow of light from around the door

The room was filled with inky blackness, and only the faintest glow of light could be seen from around the edges of the door. Once in a while, that faint light flickered, announcing the existence of someone in the hall. The sounds behind the door were mostly low and muffled, but every now and then, a shrill scream or clanking of metal could be heard. The most alarming sounds were the sudden scuffles of feet and the dragging of nails across wooden floorboards. Stifled whimpers often followed the tousles, along with deep moans and echoing groans. Sometimes the light beneath the door would abruptly disappear and then reappear as footsteps faded away. It was a lonesome place, with very little to do, but the sounds could stretch the mind, and for that, it was anything but uninspiring.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/door-door-lock-a-ray-of-light-5384953/

Writing prompt: Inky blackness and the faintest glow of light from around the door