This prompt was to imagine a famous person creating a unique landmark:

Somewhere in Tupelo

there’s an evergreen, towering
like a skyscraper, point brushing
against clouds, branches

festooned with memorabilia: replicas
of gold records, ribbons looped through
needles, labelled Heartbreak Hotel
miniature Grammys for gospel music.

Tiny pink Cadillacs dangle, hubcaps
still shiny. Someone climbs a ladder
once a week, to polish all the wheels.

Draped scarves grace necks of
rock idol dolls, dressed in white
suits, rhinestones still gleaming.

Somewhere there’s an Elvis tree,
still decorated for Christmas.

Carol A. Stephen
April 8, 2018

Today’s constraints from Two Sylvias: write about something complicated, restrict line lengths e.g. four words, three words, two words, no words etc. and number of lines to between 8 and 12.

Here’s my attempt, which started as a found poem, then I played with it:

Origin. Intelligence.

Mystery. The parts don’t
make sense. The visual
way back, the reptilian.
Balance. Territory. Sex.

Snakes stare back, thinking
Is she lunch?

Monkey emotion.
Social hierarchy.

Prefrontal.
Rational.
Where am I anyway?
You? Behind your forehead.

Carol A. Stephen
April 7, 2018

Have not been able to do the prompts every day, so in the spirit of catch-up, for Two Sylvias prompts:

Day 6 was to build something in the sky or on another planet

The View from Here

nothing but sky: to the left, to the right,
and sky in between. Unending
palette of deep blue.

There should be poems, longhand, written
in cursive across the horizon, each line rising
upward like the scroll of words in Star Wars.

Every day a new selection. Every day
a poem by Robert Bly. Each poem would scatter
seeds down, and from the seedlings, flowers.

Each petal inscribed with lines of verse.
Today I read from a dark purple tulip,
tomorrow, a  periwinkle campanula blossom.

Between the flowers, pink granite rocks,
cut from an outcrop of Canadian Shield.
Wet and sparkling under a different sun.

GARDEN

Carol A. Stephen
April 6, 2018