Tag: Poetry

Jar of Poetry’s First Event

Hello from my side of the world!

As you’ve noticed, no poems today.

Should this be considered a personal entry then? Meh… 🤣

I wanted to record it but having just finished another audiobook, I thought it best to rest my voice before another project.

Anyway, can you believe Poetry Month starts next week?! I’m excited!

I want to make this a memorable month of reading, sharing, and involving myself more with the same Poetry Community that made me feel at home here on WordPress. That’s when the idea of holding JOP’s First Poetry Event came to mind.

Since we’re all hanging out indoors, might as well make this interesting, right?!

Starting today and for the month of April, I will post up a “Bounty” for a specific type of poem and then share it on Sundays—my normal posting day. Yes, credit will be given to the writer. If you’re already following JOP and would like to participate, keep reading.

The rules are simple:

  • In order to participate, you “MUST” be following the blog (you can unfollow once this is done, but I doubt it 😂 )
  • Use the element(s) for the week and write a poem (simple-ish)
  • Only “1” poem can be entered for the week (Multiple entries from the same writer will be disqualified for that week. So choose your poem carefully)
  • Once you’ve decide on the poem that you would like to enter, use the graphic below, somewhere on your post (I follow most of you, so you don’t have to tag me or whatever. I’ll be on the lookout for it 😉 )

The graphic will change for each week

Simple, right?!

Let’s get to the rewards:

  • I will “REBLOG” that poem (your work deserves to be recognized)
  • With the winner’s permission, I will feature it on Jar of Poetry and write a little blurp as to why I chose it. The choice will be made on Saturdays, EST. (creativity and meaning—both to the poet and reader, really matter the most for me to make my choice)
  • For each “Bounty”, I will Pay You $25 via PayPal or Donate it to a charity of your choice (make sure your Contact Page is available)

Why am I doing this?

First, why not?

Second, poetry means a lot to me. As a poetry enthusiast, I love the art and all its forms. Whether it’s how one sees the world or something completely silly, putting the effort into those carefully chosen words mean something to you. And that’s why I respect poets so much. I would also like to contribute my part in keeping this art form alive and well.

And lastly, I’m not doing this for Followers or Recognition. By now, you should know that I do things that sound fun or interesting to me. If you didn’t know that, surprise!


There’s no need to “Repost/Reblog” or share on social media (too much work honestly). It just makes things easier. I won’t be participating, so expect my normal posts on Sundays along with the winning poem.

If you would like to participate, then here is the week’s “Bounty

A Freeverse poem about your favorite food

Make me feel what you feel when you have your favorite dish. Convince me to try it. What memory is attached to that particular meal/snack?


Before I go, a big “Congratulations” to Ms. Sue from skyenatureblog.com for publishing her poetry book!

If you have any questions about this little “Event” or just want to chat, don’t be shy to email me!

Take Care

Here’s to the Gambler

He taught me to hold’em.
Scolded me for fold’in.
We knew how to walk away
and knew where to run.
It wasn’t bout the money
while drinking at the table.
It’s just the Rookie and the Gambler
when all was said and done.


A tribute to Kenny Rogers.

I was going to try and write a spin-off to his song, ‘The Gambler’ but decided against it because I didn’t want to ruin this great piece.

Past and Future

Starlit nights are all that I have.

I use them to look back

at what I had.

I’ve never felt so alone.

My days are wasted thinking of you,

like a worn-out love song

played a time or two.

I just wish I knew

how to throw them all away.

But when the past and future collide,

I know

somewhere in my heart,

I’d give love another try.

All I can do

is think of you

and hope I get it right.

Your face is showing

Fear glazes the eyes atop masks
Out-stretched hands, morally bitten
Hordes
hoarding essentials—
some to profit
while others for security
Public services mocked
while trying to keep their composure
Bound to their castles,
what awaits one
can not be seen—
Insanity.
Isolated roads
are no longer a metaphor
What was a friendly smile
now a grin of greed
Words of encouragement
from people who preached saying,
“Things will be all right”,
no longer have meaning
in this day and time

Excuse me,
but your face is showing.