Full 360

Day 30: Write a Poem Backwards

This seems a fitting end to National Poetry Month. I wrote each line of this poem in opposite order, starting from the last and ending with the first.


Drone #628.
Clumsy upon the cone.
Creation swallows the creator.
Six legs.
One sticky end.

In Review

Day 29: A Review

Today’s prompt is to make a formal or informal review of anything or anyone.


The first couple were a breeze
by day 15 it dragged.
Some of them echoed previous years,
though I liked the sound.
As it comes to a close
it hovers between
masterpiece and mess,
banality and brilliance.

Bridge to Nowhere

Day 28: Bridge Poem

This subject matter makes me think of when I lived in Pittsburgh, which has more bridges than any city in the world, even Venice.


The bridge cannot be passed.
Lights shine from either end
but do not penetrate
barely illuminating the opposite
surface. The thrum of engines
hide husks of inane patter.

Six Words

Day 27: A Hay(na)cu

This form features the three-line stanzas of a haiku with one word in the first line, two in the second and three in the third.


No food.
Grocery shopping time.


Day 26: A Poem Written in Another Voice

Last year I wrote from a cat’s point of view.

Eternal Fire

I quietly tend the fire
of the ages,
a footnote,
ancient history.

I did not rape, murder
or mutilate like my brothers.
I never felt wrath, despair
or jealousy like my sisters.

My heart once beat
under every roof,
my followers vital
to an empire.


Day 25: A Clerihew

This crazy poetic style is a four-line poem where the first line must end or consist entirely of a name, often of a famous person. The lines about them are mocking, absurd or anachronistic. The form has an AABB rhyme scheme and purposely differing meter and line lengths.

Up to Interpretation

The Beatles
were on pins and needles
to hear next
who misunderstood their lyrics.


Day 24: A Parody or Satire of a Famous Poem

Last year I satirized “humanity i hate you.” I remember cringing at the thought of writing it, but i was actually pretty happy with the results. Now I shall skewer one of Keats’ sonnets. I wrote the first, third and final stanzas yesterday and didn’t have a chance to finish it ’til today.

When I Have Fears I’ll Never Cease to Be

When I have fears I’ll never cease to be,
though free of illness, old age, pain.
it seems a very lonely place to be
if family and friends do not remain.

I’d love to see the ways we innovate
to travel in an instant ‘cross the globe.
And yet I wonder if we’ve sealed our fate.
Perhaps the future’s not a thing to probe.

When I behold the leaves turn green to gold,
the highest peaks soon ground to dusty earth
the sun’s heart emptied quickly in the cold,
and death inscribed upon the face of birth,

in empty universe alone I sigh
that I can’t live though I can never die.