Poetry Prompt from NaPoWriMo: Today, I’d like to challenge you to read a few of the poems from Spoon River Anthology, and then write your own poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead.
As soon as I read this prompt, I thought: “Hey. I’ve already done that – kinda.” When I was writing stories for my second book, The Knot at the End of the Rope and Other Short Stories, I wrote a series of post-apocalyptic poems that may be found by an explorer in a desolate world.
So, while I craft my next poem in the series, based on today’s prompt, please allow me to post my first poem that started it all. Stay tuned.
Found I can feel it seep Through my boots the heat My skin, it crawls My hair, it falls The pain, it lingers Till I can barely feel my fingers Vision is weak and fading fast I do not know how long it will last Too tired to move, I take a seat Nothing left to drink or eat So, I leave my body and this note to be found Beside this shallow grave in the rocky ground And if the horror you can face Please lay me in my final resting place
Have an extra minute? Read it (again) on Medium: Day 8 (yes, I do get paid/read.)
I will be posting my poems here: linesbyleon.com/national-poetry-writing-month/ I hope you will drop by!
-Leon
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Leon Stevens is a blogger, composer, artist, and an author of two books (so far): Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures and The Knot at the End of the Rope and Other Short Stories. Visit www.linesbyleon.com
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