WD November 2013 Chapbook

by | Dec 1, 2013 | WritersDigest.com | 0 comments

Beneath my Tangled Sheets

A chapbook anthology of musings,
nightmares and dreams from a busy mind

trying to leave the real world behind
and drift away into slumber. 

© 2013 Jezebel Myschka 

Lost Inspiration

What am I doing here?
I don’t feel like I belong.
Now I’ve returned to my career
my poems turn out all wrong.

I try to write my poems in verse
and use alliteration
but my rhymes are getting worse
because I’ve lost my inspiration.

Day 23 – write an “I shouldn’t be here” poem. 


Maternal Inspiration

Month end again! I was flagging
giving up, my spirits sagging.
I had nothing more I could give,
and I had lost the will to live.

“Oh help me Mother, I can’t cope!”
I offered up my prayer of hope.
From out of the blue she then came 
and softly she called me by my name.

“You can do it,” her voice then said
in dulcit tones within my head.
I summoned up my inner strength,
to tackle that month end at length.

Day 1 – write an appearing poem. 



“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci

I wish I could paint,
but an artist I aint,
so I guess I’ll just write
and describe a sight
that delights me
or invites me
to express

 Day 24 – write a poem that responds to a famous statement.


Autumn Stroll

My iron willed dog and I,
with aching leaden joints
in her platinum days, 
out on our stroll we go
cheered by the fiery glow
of gold and copper trees,
standing tall like neon lights
against a cobalt sky.

Away from our city scents
we gulp in oxygen.
Away from those deadly
foul carbon emissions
we’ve better conditions
in this sylvan medley
and we’re happy again
out in the elements.
Day 17 – write an element poem.


Seasons of Life

Last time I was here it was in the Spring,
and there was a freshness about everything.
Trees were dressed in their leafy lime green
and pink cherry blossom was everywhere to be seen.
There was a spring in my step as I walked along
listening to the bright early morning birdsong.

But that was way, way back in time
I was young, just like those lime
green leaves.

Now in the Autumn I’ve come here again
just before dusk, and it’s starting to rain.
Trees are dressed in their harlequin suits
and I’m kicking up the fallen leaves in my boots.
I’m tired and weary just like those trees
and waiting for my rest during the winter freeze.

 Day 3 – write a “the last time I was here” poem. 


Silent Woods

A weak watery sun warmed the white winter woods
but from the bare branched birches burst no birdsong.
Hawthorn hedges were hidden in the haze,
yet a feathered fiend had fixed his gaze
knowing where field mice were hiding.
Wide eyes were watching, waiting.
Noiselessly from his nest,
gracefully gliding,
soared the hunter,
seeking his
with a
sudden swoop,
he disappeared.
In a split second
he was soaring again,
heading happily homewards,
silently sweeping through the sky,
clutching his famished family’s feast.
Yet still no whisper from the waiting woods.
The setting sun sank from the skies in the west.
Still silence, save for scrunching sounds from the owls’ nest.

Day 28 – write a bird poem.


Lying in wait

Next door’s Siamese cat 
lay silently
under the berry bush
watching, waiting, 
all ready to pounce.
No-one could see her 
but me.

Our resident Blackbird, 
flew noisily
in for his morning bath
stopping a while 
to pluck from the bush
a bright red berry
to eat.

She pounced

He flounced,
and very loudly
her presence.

She was trounced.

Day 5 – Write a concealed poem / Write an unconcealed poem. 


The Other Dog

I had two dogs, one was called Jezebel.
She was a madam, but she was beautiful.
When they were pups, I chose Jezzie
but the other puppy, she chose me.
The other was her litter sister, but she was good.
and she always did exactly what she should.
Jez always had to be first to get her walk,
or she would bark so much, my neighbours would talk.
The other was resigned to stay home and wait
so she got her dinner first on her plate.
Jezebel would never leave my side
“Where’s the other dog?” I often cried,
because I missed her. In she came
as if she thought that was her name.
Sadly, my Jezzie passed away this year
and I did more than shed a tear.
I wondered how the other dog would cope,
or if she would just pine and mope.
But the other dog took on a new lease of life,
not having to suffer any more sibling strife.
Now the other dog is my best friend
she got what she wanted in the end!

 Day 9 – take the phrase “The Other (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem



Huh! She’s bought a new red laptop, I see,
now she’s practically abandoned me
after I served her faithfully each day
from morning ’til night as she typed away.
Okay, so now and again I would crash
just because I needed to clear my cache,
but she worked me hard, would not take a break
so my own decision I had to make.
Now I sit in the corner, all alone
she uses me less than she does her phone.
She only wants me when she needs a photo
but I’ll scupper that – I’ll refuse to go.

Day 8 – Write an inanimate object poem.  


Ladies who Lunch

Just an orange juice they want,
a cup of tea for Mable,
oh, and a jug of water
for the rest of the table.
And one wants an extra plate
to share her lunch with her friend,
and another wants to swap
her chair and sit on the end.
They want to know if they can
have a “pensioner” amount
included in the “specials”
or if we will give discount.
Lunch only costs a fiver
but they will sit there for hours,
moaning about their ailments,
boasting about their flowers.
They’ll argue over the bill
and I have the slightest hunch
that we won’t get a big tip
from these Ladies who Lunch!

Day 6 – write a poem from the perspective of a person who either works at and/or visits a place you like to visit 


Ladies who Lunch (remix)

We Ladies who Lunch have a good natter
(when you live alone there’s not much chatter)
we talk on every subject matter
over our pub’s cut-price lunchtime platter.

We girls love to come here once in a while,
we do not drink much, but we dine in style.
Our waitress greets us with a cheery smile,
and when we leave we make it worth her while.

Day 25 –  take a poem from earlier in the challenge (that you’ve written) and remix it. 


Sweet Dreams

Last night I had 
the sweetest dream 
of eating scones 
with jam and cream
whilst watching waves
coming crashing
o’er granite rocks, 
sea spume splashing
way, way up the 
craggy cliff face
in Cornwall, my 
favourite place.

Day 10 – write a poem incorporating something sweet. 



The typhoon struck
as I cowered
in the basement
waiting for the storm
to pass
And at last
it was all over.
My home was in ruins.
Of my family I had no news.
I stood on a chair 
to get better views,
but all I could see 
above the clouds of debris
were men who had climbed 
to the top of trees 
and giraffes who still 
stood tall
above it all.
And I fell,
as the chair
tipped over.

Day 11 – write ekphrastic poetry–or poetry based off another piece of art. Four photos:- a girl (and her shadow) taking off from the back of a toppling chairgiraffes with their heads above the cloudspeople climbing up naked silver birches and a ramshackle wooden house.


What Next?

What a woeful week it was.
What more will we all do?
We will not wangle
the weather which
wastes the world.
Why not?
What now?
We’ll just wait
while we wonder
what will happen and 
when or whether we will
depart this woeful world
this week or will we survive

What causes a whirlwind 
to wipe out homes and lives?
What wicked wars will wrench
men from their weeping wives?
What will we survivors 
do to show that we care?
What worse is there to come, 
we worry, and where?

Day 15 – take the phrase “What (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem


It’s Good News Day

Today I will not listen to the news. 
No news is good news, or so people say, 
so it is about time we invented 
a regular especial Good News Day.

There would have been no stabbings in Sheffield, 
and no dead bodies found in a garden, 
there would have been no firefighters striking, 
and no criminals we have to pardon.

There would have been no plane or train crashes, 
there would be no impending hurricanes,
there would be no fear of hostile nations
plotting to sabotage Americans.

There would have been no FTSE downfalls, 
and retail prices would not be increased,  
this week no-one would need to fear because
an ex-murderer has just been released.

Royal future prospects are looking good,
the Royal Family are out on show, 
with the Queen and our three prospective kings
being grouped together in one photo.

Oh how I wish that this could ALL be true
and that daily news could always be good,
that everyone gets on with each other, 
and people behave as well as they should.

Day 2 – write a “news of the day” poem. 


Doing Nothing

I’m sad when the day
is damp, drizzly, grey
and I’ve wasted away
my precious hours 
just sitting indoors
doing nothing.

I’m glad when the day
is dry, balmy, May
and I’ve wallowed away
admiring flowers,
just sitting outdoors
doing nothing.

Day 12 – Write a poem about your happiest moment and write a poem about your saddest moment.


Doing Nothing

I’m sad when the day
is damp, drizzly, grey
and I’ve wasted away
my precious hours 
just sitting indoors
doing nothing.

I’m glad when the day
is dry, balmy, May
and I’ve wallowed away
admiring flowers,
just sitting outdoors
doing nothing.

Day 12 – Write a poem about your happiest moment and write a poem about your saddest moment.




You were always the belle of the ball
giving your man a very hard time
but your life on earth finished early
and last year you left him in his prime.

As you lie sleeping in your casket
we are all watching your wretched spouse,
normally eclipsed by your presence,
morphing into a man from a mouse.

Day 22 – write a poem using at least three of the following six words: ideogram, remora, casket, eclipse, selfie, wretch. Use the words in the title of your poem, in the body of your poem, and feel free to play with them 


 Invitation to the Ball

Come to the local dance
and you will be sure to
see a good time, believe
me. You will learn perchance
some more before it is
time for us all to leave.

Day 21  – write a secret message poem. 


Finding Time

I searched for my watch.
It had been lost for months
and then I found it.

Who would have guessed it
would have been in my husband’s
dressing gown pocket? 

Who would explore
the pockets of one’s spouse?
especially if
one was afraid of what
one would find?


I wasn’t looking for evidence.
A love letter, perchance?
All I found that time
was my watch!

Good job I found it
before I washed it!

Day 14 – write an exploration poem. 


What a Spectacle!

Where did he put his glasses?
They seem to have disappeared.
He’s searched the whole house
and even looked under the bed.
But then when a mirror he passes
as he went to trim his beard
he had a shock, my spouse,
when he found them on his head!

Day 30 – write a disappearing poem


Start Anew

We’ve had some problems (haven’t we all?)
but now it’s time to call an end
to it all and start again.
Today is our first day.
Forget all is past
and start anew.
It’s up to 
me and

Day 13 – write a self-help poem. 


Toyboy Hardship

I’m very bored, he said.
Get a job, said I,
or sack our cleaner
and our gardener.
You could do it yourself.

But he didn’t.

I need a new car, he said.
So do I, said I,
but to work I must dash
to earn some more cash.
You could buy it yourself.

But he didn’t.

I need a holiday, he said.
I’m busy at work, said I.
So visit your mother,
or even your brother,
or you could go on your own.

So he did.

I can’t live like this, he said.
Neither can I, said I.
So why don’t you leave me?
It wouldn’t grieve me
if I had to live on my own!.

So he did!

Day 7 – write a hardship poem. 


Regretted Words

I wish I could forget what I said.
I should not have said
“Let’s get wed.”
We were great 
before that, 
you and I.
But I have to own 
I should have known
that you can’t cage a butterfly. 

I wish I could forget what I said.
Many tears I cried 
after you lied.
You’d ripped my heart
completely apart,
but my words so curt 
were designed to hurt.
I should have known
I could not bear that look in your eye.

Day 18 – write a “forget what I said earlier” poem.


Lost Loves 

When I have spent most of my life 
collecting objects that I love, 
why am I now overcrowded 
with things I cannot throw away 
because I cherished them once? 
Would that I could feel so crowded 
by the people that I have loved, 
but who are now gone from my life
either due to death or distance,
or because of a dead romance.

Day 19 – Write a love poem / write an anti-love poem. 


Always Wishing

Always wishing for
more than I have got,
why am I never
content with my lot?

I wanted to rest
when I was working
but when I retired
I found life boring.

I returned to work
and now have no time
to socialize
with friends of mine.

When it is Summer
I find it too hot,
yet in the Winter
I seek a hot spot.

I personally
am always wishing
that it could always
be Autumn or Spring.

I wish I’d give up
always wishing for
what I cannot have
and enjoy life more!

Day 20 – take the phrase “Always (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem


Elephant Skin Armour

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”

Steve Jobs

I’ve tried all my life but I’ve never got to the top.
I’ve crossed my T’s and crowned my I’s with a dot
I’ve had a good time, enjoyed what I’ve done,
and basically have been pleased with my lot.
I’ve gone with my gut, against all odds,
I’ve trusted in destiny and karma,
but what has helped me best through life
is my elephant skin armour.

 Day 24 – write a poem that responds to a famous statement.


“Buy one get one free”

I wish ”bogof” offers would bog off!
I only want one bag, not two.
I really don’t need its mate.
Give the freebie to the
needy or greedy.
I can’t use it 
before its
sell by

Free Offers 

as bad
or even worse
are three for the price
of two. Take my advice.
We don’t want things twice or thrice.
If they really want to help our purse
why do they not just reduce the price?

 Day 26 – “Two for Tuesday”  Here are the prompts:

  1. Take the phrase “Free (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. 
  2. Take the phrase “(blank) Free,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Example titles might include: “Fat Free,” “Stone Free,” “How to Be Free,” etc.  


 Our Butcher

“I’ve got a good joint of pork for you today”
my friendly butcher down the road used to say.
“I saved it ‘specially for you, my dear,
and some special lamb chops, so never fear,
you won’t go hungry this week, my sweet.”

We don’t have that sort of custom today –
we just go to the supermarket, then to pay.
All our meat is packaged, clean and scanned –
we’ll buy what looks good, and what’s close to hand.
We don’t bother to go far down the street.

What happened to the shops where we used to stop
where they knew us as soon as we walked in their shop?
Where they’d give us an apple for all our kids
as we chose our fruit, and made our bids
for the rest of the veg this week we’d eat.

Down to the bakers – I need a bloomer –
and “How’s Mrs Jones? I heard a rumour
that you weren’t well? Are you better now?”
“Ah, yes thanks” I said, wiping my brow –
“It must have just been the heat!”

And then in the grocers, the biscuit tins
at the front of the counter, for those with sins,
full of the bits of broken biscuits, cheap as chips –
never mind what they were likely to do to our hips!
But we only had them for a treat!

And on to the post office which also sold candy,
and bulls eyes and gobstoppers that they kept handy.
Four for a penny, and that’s not so bad
I could buy eight with the pocket money I had!
– but I knew I should not have a sweet.

“I’d like some stamps with Charles and Ann
to save my money so that I can
afford a house when I am older.”
Then with my handbag on my shoulder –
I would go home and rest my feet.

Day 29 – Write a commercial poem.


Sweet Schooldays

Cadbury’s “Crunchies”
evoke so many 
sweetest memories 
of my old school days, 
when walking back home
I’d buy a bag of 
home-made honeycomb 
for just a penny.
The sweet shop on the 
opposite corner 
of our senior school 
was out of bounds for
us girls, but we would 
often break the rule,
and some of us stood
on guard while some would
nip across the road
to buy the bag we’d
share with each other,
and we never told
even our mother.
But I should mention
we got caught one day
and then had to stay
in for detention!

The sweetest dream that 
I could have would be
about my school day 
Sherbet Fountains with 
licorice sticks,
acidic Pear Drops 
and Cough Candy mix,
pale coloured fizzy 
sweet Flying Saucers, 
aniseed Black Jacks, 
and huge Gobstoppers.
In my day you could 
buy four a penny
(our pocket money 
wouldn’t buy many).
We’d share Refreshers 
or tubes of Love Hearts,
pastel Opal Fruits 
and Parma Violets,
our Jelly Babies 
or rolls of Toffo.
We’d even share our 
very last Rolo, 
our Maltesers or 
our bar of Munchies,
but we’d not share our 
honeycomb Crunchies!

Day 10 – write a poem incorporating something sweet.


 The Royal Oak

The focal point of an English village is its local, 
the old country pub at the hub of the community,
where people frequently will take the opportunity
to spend time unwinding, bonding with a friend at the end
of a stressful day at work, where one can relax and talk
and sup away until the cares of the day disappear.
With the combination of convivial company,
the calming comfort afforded by flopping on a chair
in front of a flaming log fire or propping up the bar,
slowly sipping, slipping into a soporific state
you will be sure to smile again after a while and then
maybe you will start to sing or become very vocal.
But beware! Do not drive home after leaving your local.

Day 27 – write a local poem. 


Beneath my tangled sheet

Bzzzzz! Oh it is so very sweet
to steal more minutes to complete 
my dream beneath my tangled sheet,
before my alarm rasps its repeat 
and I drag myself with dread 
from my nightmare and my bed 
to face the working day ahead 
untangling spreadsheets instead.

 Day 4 – take the phrase “(blank) Sheet,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem.


Disappearing PAD Challenge

Where has November gone? Our dreaded accounting month end
quickly came and went and I was looking forward then
to more creative time spent writing some poems
after work. However that was not easy 
with my brain bursting with figures. 
But, with the excellent variety 
of different poetry prompts
from Robert I then got
back into the swing 
of things and now 
it’s month end 

Day 30 – write a disappearing poem