Category Archives: everydayinspiration
Prompt- Cayahoga library: Katerina Stoykova-Klemer has written, “Often I Wish I Were// a potato.// Eyes opened/ in all directions.” Begin a poem with “Often I wish I were” and complete the stanza with…” and see where that takes your poem. … Continue reading →
NaPoWriMo Prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you specifically to write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. It may be the high sierra, dusty plains, lush rainforest, or a suburbia of tiny, identical … Continue reading →
NaHaiWriMo Prompt for day 11: stone(s) pebbles underfoot dry path through the heavy dew bold whispers of spring violets perfume the breeze moonlight bathes the late-night waves Copyright © 2018-04-13, by Lizl Bennefeld.
like a vapor trail barely visible against the sky…too far away to hear a sound as life begins and ends Copyright © 2018-01-18, by Lizl Bennefeld. WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Silence.
what’s real being real isn’t hard if you don’t expect today’s real to be the same as yesterday’s or tomorrow’s version reality changes as the hours and days journey through near and distant lands inner and outer space and down … Continue reading →
Brewer: For today’s prompt, write a “back in the day” poem. You might also call this a “good old days” poem or a “bad old days” poem. To me, back in the day is synonymous with history–but a kind of … Continue reading →
Brewer: For today’s prompt, write a response poem. The poem can be a response to anything–a piece of news, some art, a famous (or not so famous) quotation, or whatever. However, I thought it might be a cool opportunity to … Continue reading →
marsh’s edge red-winged blackbirds celebrate new-hatched chicks clinging to his reedy stalk, feathers fluffed, the father sings Copyright © by Elizabeth Bennefeld, 2017-11-27
sunshine through leaves kissed by frost…changing color golden light Copyright © 2017-11-26, by Lizl Bennefeld. Prompt: Brewer: shine
PoetryPotion: Rain, rain, rain! raindrops on the roof raindrops on the window pane raindrops all about rain came down, this week, in sheets that can’t be used for sails —Elizabeth Bennefeld, 2017-11-25
My husband and I have been talking about this writing prompt, how we feel about being remembered after we die. As a writer, I thought at first that I would want my poetry to be remembered (and I would be … Continue reading →
stacks of clothes worn and freshly laundered gather dust the outside world fades away when words are singing in my mind Copyright © 2017-11-24, by Lizl Bennefeld.
brisk arctic windsspring clouds from the southwind sculpted ice icicle teeth hang from branchesthreatening spring tulips Copyright © 2017-11-22, by Lizl Bennefeld.
bifurcated forcibly polarized world no in-between dark skin or white…no gender pushed to declare a side Copyright © 2017-11-21, by Lizl Bennefeld. Prompt from PoetryPotion: “The war inside”
Photographs from an earlier, very “weathery” year brisk arctic winds spring clouds from the south wind sculpted ice see-through teeth hang from branches threatening spring tulips Copyright © 2017-11-22, by Lizl Bennefeld. WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Transformation
sharp north winds broken cloud cover ragged sunlight winter…refuge from the heat cold seeps into these old bones Copyright © 2017-11-20, by Elizabeth (Lizl) Bennefeld.
For Day 17, the prompt I chose is “ember” tea leaves and night sounds a steel pot on warm embers battered cups distractions discarded we talk about what matters — Elizabeth W. “Lizl” Bennefeld, copyright © 2017-11-19. Prompt: “ember” from … Continue reading →
Prompt: “When I see my mother” When I see her now she looks so much younger— filled with song vigorous and happy, radiant… sorrows past, still in love —Elizabeth Bennefeld, 2017-11-18 Note: My mother died on 15 November 2016 (age … Continue reading →
banked camp fire glowing embers toast the last s’mores laughter and hot cocoa childhood memories of love Copyright © by Elizabeth “Lizl” Bennefeld, 2017-11-15
Nahaiwrimo: droplet harvest mountain fog catch droplets on nets—water to green the desert — Elizabeth Bennefeld, 2017-11-14