Posts: 771
Threads: 425
Joined: May 2014
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 13
Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.
Topic : Write a poem inspired by a Game Show
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more
Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish.
Questions?
Posts: 970
Threads: 226
Joined: Aug 2016
11-13-2025, 12:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-13-2025, 12:36 PM by CRNDLSM.)
Last week I won a new convertible
Being picked for the show was a surprise
New taxes made it unaffordable
And suddenly found myself in trouble
Too distracted by my eyes on the prize
Last week I won a new convertible
The whole scenario incredible
A rapid rise and successive demise
New taxes made it unaffordable
My current debt went up almost double
The tear duct dries as the man cries and cries
Last week I won a new convertible
And now its pretty much unsellable
I was advised to revise the price size
New taxes made it unaffordable
Now I want to do something terrible
So I guess these are my last goodbyes guys
Last week I won a new convertible
New taxes made it unaffordable
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Posts: 970
Threads: 226
Joined: Aug 2016
I just want to mention there is a relatively newer streaming service called dropout, its mostly improv comedians, one of their shows is called game changer where every episode the contestants dont know what the game is until they start playing cause its different every time. The channel has a bunch of variety shows some hit some miss. As is often with stand up ot improv
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Posts: 454
Threads: 372
Joined: Sep 2014
O
Unicorns at play with words,
a silly horse, might at play:
Devil Priestess, OG of Time,
this is a Space inside the Faith!
Walking smile, floating on ground,
Pure Thought is unthinkable.
Don't say O
The prizes he could win
with the crescent and the sliver
toward silence.
Belt-Dress
She holds her girdle,
remains tightly herself
I plunge as difference galloping through pouring rain!
Stopped dead in his facts;
a girl follows a rabbit, a man follows the girl;
the running man would deign to have a soul
rather than a flower garden.
Sweet Eden, a harem of two hearts cliched in
a charade that's vital if lethal.
The horned serpent's poison truth
beyond maya of It's venom.
Foaming humor of their rosy cross.
Posts: 38
Threads: 6
Joined: Nov 2025
"Wheel of Boredom"
Is it a show or is it a game?
Its runtime padded with advert bloat,
Whatever it is, it sure is lame.
Canned laughter, the host always the same
bland white-haired smiler who loves to gloat.
Is this his show, or is it a game?
The questions are so boring and tame,
but they struggle to answer, so slow!
Whatever this is, it sure is lame.
Losers weep and cringe, publicly shamed
when they blank on winning a boat.
Is this the show, or is it the game?
Celebrities compete for the fame,
Contriving each answer as a joke.
Whatever it is, it's sure to be lame.
I'll wait for someone else to explain
some reason to watch it all way through.
Is it a show, or is it a game?
Whatever it is, it's so lame.
Posts: 2,383
Threads: 230
Joined: Oct 2010
Phone a Friend
As the years pass like tiny moths,
I find myself eaten away
not from her chemo,
her staging food like performance art,
as I lost her between bites
and found myself hollowed out.
Dance shoes in the trunk,
private jokes that never land,
punchlines forgotten,
timing gone.
She was the first I lost,
and every loss after her
sliced off something I mistook
as a part of myself.
I keep dying in fragments,
an installment plan
of becoming someone
neither of us would recognize.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
Posts: 1,215
Threads: 250
Joined: Nov 2015
What’s My Line
What would witty, literate
inquisitors empaneled ask
to learn your trade or mine, my dear?
We’ve switched so often, who can state
which of us drew the harder task
of living in the other’s sphere?
But as we waltz through each new gate
with palm to palm and mask to mask
our crossing lifelines merge, sincere.
(11-14-2025, 12:14 AM)Todd Wrote: Phone a Friend
As the years pass like tiny moths,
I find myself eaten away
not from her chemo,
her staging food like performance art,
as I lost her between bites
and found myself hollowed out.
Dance shoes in the trunk,
private jokes that never land,
punchlines forgotten,
timing gone.
She was the first I lost,
and every loss after her
sliced off something I mistook
as a part of myself.
I keep dying in fragments,
an installment plan
of becoming someone
neither of us would recognize.
Beautifully done. How can they live on in us when they take so much of us with them?
 Non-practicing atheist
Posts: 26
Threads: 3
Joined: Nov 2025
A game you can't win
A soul on the line,
The host knows,
It's lost.
the wheel spinning,
While pulling on my --
Noose.
As air becomes thin,
Blood thick,
I lost.
A show hosted by
The devil.
No commercial, no silent plea.
Silent screaming left in me.
The light dims, the room grows cold.
The noose once tied,
Now on hold.
the soul I lost,
won't grow old
I know that rhyme, rhythm, and meter are not academically standardized.
I am well aware of that, yet I primarily do free verse, and it's based on instinctual writing.
I try to avoid academic language or structure. My poems are not meant to convey a single answer.
I try to convey the unknown through minimalism, mostly dense short stanzas with many line breaks.
If you'd give a critique, please keep this in mind.
|
