for both Ludwigs Beethoven only gave it a number, Piano Sonata Fourteen. Years later the poet Rellstab named it Mondscheinsonate and I will not dispute his license. For when Selene rises at sundown behind the darkened trees and casts a porcelain dagger across the surface of the lake, faint ripples from the breeze tickle the pebbles on shore then poets and composers alike are reminded of your charm and get to work. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music. This was obviously inspired by the Moonli ..read more

I live in a small Southern suburban apartment and it could be wiped off its hilltop by a hurricane and I wouldn’t care. It’s just where I sleep and keep my stuff. I would miss the heirlooms and library of poetry books but my home is this laptop. Booting up, is like inserting the key to the front door, icons arranged on the desktop with Feng Shui, data arrayed in tidy directories. Technically, since I upgrade the hardware every few years, the laptop is just the house and the data is my real home. I don’t live in the clouds but my backups do. Today’s Prompt: Create a poem that explores the conc ..read more

On the occasion of her 100,000th mile I talk to my car, probably too much since she never answers. She has taken me from Massachusetts to Florida to the center of our country in Kansas. We’ve witnessed two solar eclipses together, ten Perseid meteor showers and untold starry nights. I feel bad leaving her outside when I visit a museum or library but at least she gets to tramp around the cemeteries with me. She’s a great listener as I rehearse on my way to an open mic. Inspiration regularly rolls when I’m behind her wheel. She’s not my muse but she takes me there. (The above image was taken la ..read more

I’ve seen the rings of Saturn and the moons of Jupiter but not up close. I’ve seen the clouds of Venus and the red sands of Mars but only through my telescope. Bored with merely gazing I want to hop an interplanetary shuttle and just go. You can come along. Like you, I’ve never touched their skin nor smelled their breath; I’ve only peeped in through windows. But I suppose this fantasy requires introducing myself. Write a poem inspired by the concept of wanderlust and adventure ..read more

The bees and the coneflower The butterflies and the bush The nectar The pollen The garden The birds and the trees The flock over the field The seeds The poop The soil Raspberries in summer Red-stained fingers on a hand My hand in yours Not sure what this one is about but I think it applies to two of today’s prompts: Craft a poem that explores the relationship between humanity and nature. For today’s prompt, write a living poem ..read more

Dreamt I was Johnny Appleseed planting nurseries — wearing a tin pot hat Then I woke up in the cupboard again Three prompts inspired today’s haiku: Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.” Today’s Prompt: Describe a dream you’ve had in vivid detail through poetry. For today’s prompt, write a funny poem. At least I hope it’s funny. I’m not sure how far the myths of Johnny Appleseed have spread but growing up in Ohio, he was a big deal. When I was a boy they didn’t tell me that his apples were primarily used for hard cider.   ..read more

Maybe they’ve noticed that my gaze fixes on your face when you’re quiet. Maybe they’ve noticed that you leave your hand on my arm a little too long. Maybe they’ve noticed these matching hickeys on our necks, a pure coincidence. Maybe we should end these rumors or maybe start something better ..read more

After school, I’d play alone in my basement, build spaceships out of LEGOs while watching Star Trek. I’d pretend I was Mr. Spock, practice raising one eyebrow in the mirror, separate middle and ring fingers in salute, observe the aliens that occupied my class. Only half-human, I’m sure he would’ve found their behavior “fascinating” then beam up to the Enterprise and warp off somewhere more interesting than Ohio in the 1970’s where people wouldn’t make fun of his ears or punch him during recess just for knowing the answers and raising his hand. Today’s Prompt: Write a poem inspired by a work o ..read more

I love looking at mountains but not driving between them. I love the sound of rain but not driving under it. I love the flow of fog but not driving through it. I love road trips but not driving all aching day or all bleary night. Guess I’m getting old ..read more

Like getting ready for a second date, I hear a distant woodpecker drum a tree mocking my eager heart. As if ominous music begins to play, the grass turns emerald, the air amethyst and chill falls like a shadow. When she arrives a hole is punched in the sky. Mouth as open as my eyes I look up into a daytime dark orange prominences dance around the wound until a unicorn presses her horn into the poisoned well. Warmth returns to my skin. The red-headed woodpecker laughs and returns to hammering bark but I don’t want to go back to normal. Selfie with Moon and Sun, photo-bombed by Venus ..read more