From Prompts to Poetry and Everything in Between!

Yes I know. My last prompt WAS a bit rushed, and instead of taking the time to slow down and edit it later, I rushed ahead. I have edited it, and fixed typos and ad spelling mistakes. It was a bit dark, but also a mystery. I also want to say that not all the writing prompts will come from me. Sometimes I will pull images from the web and post them. Then, with those images, you can write a story or a poem. I myself write both poetry and stories. If you have seen my entry about the chickens and Rent-A-Coop, you will know who I am talking about in this poem. Maybe this poem will inspire you to write about an animal and a situation just like mine. Here is the poem:

The chicken

My chicken and I,

we are friends.

She Emma me Sophie.

Me Sophie she Emma.

Sometimes, I pick her up.

She sits in my lap.

I stroke her beautiful feathers,

brown,

speckled with white,

around the neck and tail.

She nestles against me, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Once she does,

we sit.

The thick summer air,

amazingly,

begins to move,

creating dust devils.

There is a cool breeze, but we are warm.

Autumn rolls around,

but we are still warm.

Winter comes,

Emma stops laying.

Emma is an old chicken so we are well into mid spring before she begins to lay again.

Summer this year is steamy, but we provide each other with a warmth inside,

one that doesn’t make you hot.

Tomorrow is the last day of fall.

Emma and I will have our last sit today.

Emma is slower and older than ever, so I have decided not to have our sits  during the winter.

That last autumn day is quite cold,

but we huddle together,

getting warm physically and mentally.

Emma  closes her eyes, and I begin to think about the universe,

the way our sits usually go.

It’s only when my teeth begin to chatter that I realize something wrong.

Emma usually provides me with warmth,  but now,

no warmth.

It is then that I notice she is not breathing.

My tears are useless.

I cry and cry.

Emma is dead.

The chicken I sat with for years is now dead.

Dead.

Dead.

My tears can not bring her back.

I cry until my eyes and heart are dry,

my mind slipped into a numb state.

When I got home from school,

Emma would be there.

Hard day?

I could sit with her.

Could.

I sit frozen until someone tries to pry her from my hands.

Dad? My brother?

I don’t care.

I kick him,

hard.

I don’t care.

Fight.

I don’t care.

FIGHT!

But why?

The battle is over;

Emma is dead.

I kiss her, then carefully settle her on our sitting chair.

Then I run.

Run.

I don’t care.

Run.

I don’t care.

But I do.

I cry again, for Emma.

She was special,

she was mine!

she was mine!

I punch the ground, hard. My knuckles bleed.

She didn’t deserve to die.

She didn’t.

She was beautiful and patient,  but someone once said all things beautiful must die.

That’s when I realize Emma was a teacher.

She taught me about death.

Loss, grief.

Emma was loved;

she herself was beloved.

Emma was loved,

and she always will be.

I think that it was a very good poem.I also think that one of the most important parts of being an author/poet is believing in yourself and your writing. If you think "I am going to fail and my writing will be terrible," that is what will happen. It is very important when you're writing. Before you begin to write a story, you should make a habit of closing your eyes and thinking, "I can do this. My writing is unique, marvelous, and most importantly, all my own. I can do this." If you are a poet, this can also apply. If a random poem/story idea pops in your head, make sure to write it down and as you do, think "This is not a foolish idea, it is a great, unique one. One that is all my own." You don't have to sound like Shakespeare, but when you begin to write, keep telling yourself that your writing is not foolish, because it isn't. It's a way of expressing yourself, in your own way. Others can write, but they can't write the way you do, because you have your own unique style, and you should never forget that or think otherwise. Remember this whenever you doubt yourself!