Definition

One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the autocrats among us can be “literalists of the imagination”—above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads in them, shall we have it.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

The House That Built You



I know they say you can't go home again.
I just had to come back one last time.
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam.
But these hand-prints on the front steps are mine . . .

Today, I want you to tell us about the house that built you.  It doesn't have to be an actual house; it can be a school house, a house of worship, a tree-house . . . any place from your younger years that has special meaning to you now.  Use as many words as you like.

Happy Poetry Month!

16 comments:

grapeling said...

didn't know where this would take me, MZ. thanks for the prompt ~

Magaly Guerrero said...

When I first thought about it, "my house" was my old mango tree. Then it wasn't...

Awesome prompt!

Kerridwen said...

So exciting! I'm not sure yet what I'm going to write, but I like the prompt :)

Fireblossom said...

Great idea, Kelli. Few things shape us as much as the place where we grew up. I lived in the same house until I was 18.

Marian said...

I've mined my childhood pretty thoroughly, but here is another take. Thank you, MZ. Mine is responsive to your prompt and Magaly's both.
Yay April! Fun so far!

Jim said...

I'm with Marian, my old haunts have been pretty well mined. Also with Magaly, I though about writing about my tree house out in the grove. I spent many 'solitude' hours there, sister came too though.
But I did this, it is okay but not fine with me.
Thank you, Mom Zee.
..

Kenia Cris said...

Beautiful prompt and what a song! Her voice is so sweet. Thanks for this, MZ.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Today's poem is about the home where I was formed. OK, I'll cop to it: I lived there until I was 30. Thanks to my Mom y Pop who let me live there while I completed graduate school. Today's poem is dedicated to them.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Thank heavens for "as many words as you like". Not sure I could pare down mine, LOL. A prompt that hits paydirt. Thanks, Kelli.

angieinspired said...

Kelli, our red house was the perfect choice for parents to raise us, and a great opportunity for my dad to unleash his carpentry skills while he still had the energy to do so. Thanks for taking us back.

Hannah said...

Thank you, Mama Zen...I took to the woods of my home!! :)

blogoratti said...

Thanks for sharing, happy new month!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Kerridwen, your blog is difficult to post to. I tried two different ways, and dont think either worked.........but your poem took me back to being eight, watching the moon following the car as I sat in the backseat.......cool.

Susie Clevenger said...

I wish I had more happy in the home that built me, but it is what it was. Thanks for the prompt!

Ella said...

Thank you, Mama Zen! I can't wait to read all of the homes-I mean poems~

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

How interesting! I didn't know, until I began to write, which house had built me.

Now, having caught up with my poems, I'll be catching up with everyone else's. :)