November Poem of the Month contest

For November, the Poem of the Month prompt is: Write a poem using a refrain, a repeating line. The line can repeat one time, or twice, or often enough to form a pattern of repetition in the poem. You can also write in a fixed form that uses refrains, such as a villanelle or pantoum. Choose a line or phrase that is important enough to say more than once!

When your poem is finished, copy and paste it as a comment on this post. Be sure to include the poem’s title, your name and your township of residence.

Happy writing!

About Stacia M. Fleegal

York Daily Record multiplatform journalist. Degrees in creative writing from Lycoming College and Spalding University, and a coupla books with my name on them. Central PA native who came home after floating around for a while, but always grounded by words and the places and people I remember.
This entry was posted in Poem of the Month 2013 and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to November Poem of the Month contest

  1. The Summer Without the Fence

    The summer without the fence
    Was the summer we tore down
    The old rusted chain-link
    Scaring off play dates (it seemed dangerous)
    But coveted by the scrapyard junkies
    Who trawled the alley

    We were filled with the zeal
    Of making olds things new
    Until the front porch roof gave way
    And used up our precious savings
    On a replacement instead
    That was the summer without a fence

    The summer without the fence
    Was the summer the cucumbers
    Took over the garden
    We traded with the Señor across the street for habañeros
    And the kids from the apartments helped themselves
    To our baby pool (we hardly blamed them it was so hot).
    That summer we felt naked, and open, and free-

    That summer was the summer our little girl
    Learned to ride a tricycle
    Braving the cracked and uneven sidewalks
    Up and down, her brave feet straining at the pedals
    And her face set in determined exuberance,
    Ready to conquer the world.

    We thought she’d be ours forever
    The way that summer days stretch out forever-
    But that was the summer she disappeared,
    Our precious, little, baby girl,
    Suddenly, without a trace
    In a God damned moment of inattentiveness
    She slipped through our careless fingers
    Like sand on the beach in those final days of summer
    Without a fence.

    by Asahel Church
    York City

  2. Sophia Kline says:

    Thanksgiving
    Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving is lots of fun.
    But it passes on as the days go on.
    You get lots of turkey
    and have lots of fun.
    You do lots of activities and decorate with plenty of colors.

    Now it is time to invite the friends over!
    You get the food ready
    and hear a knock at the door.
    Somebody’s here to join the fun!

    You welcome them in
    and are happy they could come.
    You do lots of activities and have lots of fun.
    But now it is time for them to go home.

    You say thanks for coming
    and did you have fun?
    You hope they can come next time
    and have more fun.

    While they are now driving off,
    you wave your hand to say bye, bye.
    And while your doing that, your thinking, I wish they could comeback some day.

    Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving is lots of fun.

  3. Thorne McFarlane says:

    How much does it hurt?
    Does anyone feel your pain?
    How much does it hurt?
    Does anyone feel your pain?
    How much does it hurt?
    Does anyone feel your pain?

    How much does it hurt?
    Does anyone feel your pain?
    Does anyone feel your pain?

    Treated like a dog, abused and sobbing
    A young woman stands alone, head throbbing
    Because she’s been hit by her boyfriend
    If he truly loved her, he’d put the abuse to an end…
    Crying and screaming, the house is full with crazy riots
    Standing in a corner alone, clutching the phone
    Why should she smile?
    Not a scrap of kindness shown
    Five scars and body-bruised
    But, not even her friends know the truth
    She wants to collapse from the fear
    He whispers threats in her ear
    Everyday it hurts…
    Everyday it gets worse
    How much does it hurt?
    Does anyone feel your pain?

    No one feels her pain
    No one feels the strain
    Crying silent in vain
    And no rest for this girl’s mind
    Everyday is hell
    Take it one day at a time
    Afraid to raise kids, the stress doubled
    They’ll see the violence and grow up troubled
    Her heart is about to break in two
    What else to do?
    What else to live for?
    She’d rather die than live in hell
    And that’s what she did
    Her blood spilled on the kitchen floor
    Committed suicide at the age of twenty-four
    How much did it hurt?
    Did anyone feel your pain?

    How Much Does it Hurt? by Thorne McFarlane
    York, Pennsylvania

  4. Pat Long says:

    Older Woman Takes Up Ukulele

    I’d like to play the ukulele.
    Four strings, how hard can that be?
    I found a teacher who could show me.
    Here’s my ukulele odyssey.
    I learned seven basic chords-
    G F E D C B A
    Only seven chords, how easy,
    So I practiced every day.
    But my fingers won’t cooperate,
    Brain synapses won’t communicate;
    The days turn into weeks,
    The ukulele gives out squeaks,
    Til I finally get them mastered
    And can play them fast and faster.
    Now I think I can play the ukulele!

    Music theory’s mathematic,
    Every major has a minor key.
    Polyphonic, diatonic,
    Music language is a mystery to me.
    Now it’s fourteen chords I’m trying
    Minors sound a bit offkey.
    Hesitating and with sighing
    I play a minor melody.
    But my fingers won’t cooperate,
    Brain synapses won’t communicate;
    The days turn into weeks,
    The ukulele gives out squeaks,
    Til I finally get them mastered
    And can play them fast and faster.
    Maybe now I can play the ukulele!

    Just when I think I’m finally finished
    Diminished chords are added to my load.
    Flat third, flat fifth make up diminished,
    This journey is a never-ending road.
    Some say music’s fascinating
    But I’m hearing such discord;
    I find it terribly frustrating-
    What’s this goal I’m working toward?
    And my fingers won’t cooperate,
    Brain synapses won’t communicate;
    The days turn into weeks,
    The ukulele gives out squeaks,
    Til I finally get them mastered
    And can play them fast and faster.
    Will I ever learn to play the ukulele?

    Lest I think this ordeal’s ended,
    I must figure out suspended chords.
    Drop third, add fourth to make suspended-
    I’m already in a muddle beyond words.
    Learning music is confusing
    And my fingers are so sore.
    Now I think that I am losing
    All those chords I learned before.
    Still my fingers won’t cooperate,
    Brain synapses won’t communicate;
    The days turn into weeks,
    The ukulele gives out squeaks.
    I will never get them mastered;
    I can’t play them fast or faster.
    I will never learn to play the ukulele!

    There is something called a barre chord
    Going up the fretboard and it sings.
    When I played a barre chord I got nothing-
    My finger doesn’t lay flat on the strings.
    I’d be more enthusiastic
    If my fingers were elastic,
    But I’m feeling quite discouraged.
    Maybe I should learn to play guitar.

    • Pat Long says:

      West Manchester Township

    • Kristopher Ivie says:

      A lot of good poems this month, but this one was my favorite (well technically I liked my own the most, but that opinion is heavily biased). I thought for sure this was going to be the winner this month. Obviously opinions vary, but I’m giving this poem a big thumbs up. Keep them coming.

  5. Larry B. Tibbs says:

    Cool Fact: YDR-A2-11/9/13

    Guinness Beer is not black,
    As if I really care.
    It’s actually a dark ruby red in fact.

    “Start your day here” – Cool Fact
    Says the headline if you dare.
    Guinness Beer is not black.

    Do tell. A vital tidbit I no longer lack.
    A real news item I can share.
    It’s actually a dark ruby red in fact.

    An earth-shattering factoid of great impact
    Now revealed. It causes one to stare
    In disbelief – Guinness Beer is not black!

    Such searing news, I can’t hold back.
    A “cool fact” beyond compare.
    It’s actually a dark ruby red in fact.

    Hey barkeep, I’ll take a pack,
    A Guinness six. Oh, did you know? Do you care?
    Guinness Beer is not black.
    It’s actually a dark ruby red in fact.

    A Villanelle Poem
    Cool Fact: YDR-A2-11/9/13
    (York Daily Record)
    Larry B. Tibbs
    Spring Garden TWP
    11/9/2013

  6. Michele Seabrook says:

    cut all ties to the wind
    howling at those lost minds of your generation.

    the older ones keep coming back,

    up and over,
    women and boys of america having their times together,
    undermined by tempered lace
    and scratch-off lottery wins.

    put oil! in your tank and offer it to the humid night,
    coffee and patrón coursing through the veins
    of all two of us in this tiny dodge
    littered with mcdonald’s bags and drive-in popcorn crumbs
    (no potholes on this florida highway).

    why do we keep coming back if
    the wonder city is waiting for us?

    gettysburg, pa

  7. Oblivious
    by Kristopher Ivie
    Hellam Township

    From the first day that we met
    Neither of us could see it
    But now we must admit
    That we were oblivious

    Our baggage was weighing us down
    I was just the new guy in town
    I was someone that you just met
    You couldn’t see, you were oblivious

    All of our friends said not to ask
    I had been warned, don’t move to fast
    I just figured the chance would pass
    I never dreamed you’d like me back

    Saturday nights we’d all hang out
    Never knew what you thought about
    All the signs I didn’t notice
    I didn’t know, I was oblivious

    From the first day that we met
    Neither of us could see it
    But now we must admit
    That we were oblivious

    They set us up, we never knew
    We went to a movie or two
    At the ballgame, sat next to you
    Neither of us knew what to do

    And then one day I drove you home
    Just the two of us all alone
    I asked you out, you froze, I split
    We didn’t know, we were oblivious

    From the first day that we met
    Neither of us could see it
    But now we must admit
    That we were oblivious

    I didn’t know if you would call
    Didn’t know if you cared at all
    The phone rang my heart skipped a beat
    You’d see me the end of the week

    I was nervous, kind of uncool
    Then I put my arm around you
    At first I thought you would resist
    I must admit, I was oblivious

    From the first day that we met
    Neither of us could see it
    But now we must admit
    That we were oblivious

    Now we’re together, this is bliss
    I remember when we first kissed
    Glad I didn’t miss out on this
    I can’t believe, I was oblivious

    From the first day that we met
    Neither of us could see it
    But now we must admit
    That we were oblivious

  8. Marissa Hoffman says:

    Winter Has Just Begun
    By Marissa Hoffman (Hanover Borough)

    Dusk pulls its blanket up early for bed
    Slightly after the hand grips the five
    And all the goodnight stories have been read
    Hello, goodbye, winter has just begun

    Once heavy laden trees now rest with ease
    As leaves slip hold and turn from red to brown
    And all are gently tugged and twirled with peace
    Hello, goodbye, winter has just begun

    Children play outside with hats and gloves
    And cold brushes both cheeks with red blush-tone
    They jump and laugh carefree with playful shoves
    Hello, goodbye, winter has just begun

    They gather ‘round and decorate the house
    And hang the stockings up and light the tree
    When done all turns as silent as a mouse
    Hello, goodbye, winter has just begun

    Then soon the roads are glossed with snow and ice
    And all stay warm with tea and cozy throws
    Snowed in, the need for rest will just suffice
    Hello, goodbye, winter is almost done

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