Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a “World’s Best Grandpa” coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone.

There was a time in history,
Where the human population,
Reached eight billion souls,
Not even a pandemic,
Can stop its growth,
The archaic internet was thriving,
With culture and entertainment,
Everything shared instantly,

But books thrive as well,
Countless of thoughts,
Feelings and observations,
Recorded day by day,
Through the eyes of views,
Of the so-called poets,

They left their traces everywhere,
From a physical copy of books,
In digital footprints,
As a symbol of existence,

Their words carried to our time,
As a reference to understand,

Mementos from a forgotten past.

Now, cast your mind back to your own childhood and write a poem about something that scared you – or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today.

It was not a monster under the bed,
It was not a figure in the dark,
It was not the sound of owls at night,
It was not the sound of thunders in a storm,

But what scared me the most,
Lies outside my room,
Lurking in every corner of the house,
Stalking for weaknesses,

Every single day,
I have to be on guard,
To be as silent,
Tip-toeing over a sleeping dragon,

When the volcanoes erupted,
All hell went loose,
I can only seek refuge,
Under the blanket in my room,

Thirty years later,
I’m not scared anymore,
Yet, I live with the scars,
I live with depression.

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet. You could write a very strict abecedarian poem, in which there are twenty-six words in alphabetical order, or you could write one in which each line begins with a word that follows the order of the alphabet. This is a prompt that lends itself well to a certain playfulness.

Ally,
Boundaries, remember?
Can you stay in your lane?
Don’t let things get into your head,
Enough wasting your time,
Focus on the things that you need to do,
God knows what is best for you,
Heaven will still be there,
In your heart should be peace,
Juggling between delusional fantasy,
Knowing painful reality,
Loving false ideals,
Making a cocktail out of misery,
Nasty taste of destiny,
Only for a glimpse of heartbreak?
Pondering the same questions,
Quietness calling for madness,
Rendering the frame of insanity,
So silly aren’t you?

To go through all of it,
Until your mind breaks again and again,
Vilifying your own peace,
When will you wake up?
Xenoblast-like-state,
You succumb to the eternal temptation,
Zen of mind to reckless infatuation.

Today’s challenge asks you to write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant – preferably one that grows in your area. (That said, if you’re lacking inspiration, online seed catalogs provide a treasure trove of unusual and charming names for vegetables, fruits and flowers. Here’s one to get you started.) In the poem, try to make a specific comparison between some aspect of the plant’s lifespan and your own – or the life of someone close to you. Also, include at least one repeating phrase.

Dear guava tree in front of my house,
How old are you?
I don’t remember when you were planted,
I do remember how you were always there,
From a young promising guava tree,
Having a strong and healthy trunk,
And still growing but fruitless,

Dear guava tree in front of my house,
Do you remember?
When I used to spend my whole afternoon,
Climbing up to your branches,
Sitting and breathing your green lushes of leaves,
Enjoying the tall scenery and the view of roofs,
Blown by the afternoon warm breeze,

Dear guava tree in front of my house,
When did we fall apart?
Was it when I can no longer climb you?
Was it when I’m busy with my life?
Was it when I realized,
That you are no longer there,
Now a vision in my memory.

Today’s prompt is a poem of negation – yes (or maybe, no), I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like. For example, if you chose a whale as the topic of your poem, you might have lines like “It does not settle down in trees at night, cooing/Nor will it fit in your hand.”

Her smile doesn’t drain me,
Never once shroud me in darkness,
Will never call for the dark clouds of rain,
Or withered like tulips in winter,

Her smile doesn’t drain me,
Unlike dissolving ink in water,
Not a dry-up well in monsoon,
Doesn’t bear the taste of a bitter gourd,

Her smile doesn’t drain me,
Unlike the smile of misfortune.

Begin by reading June Jordan’s “Notes on the Peanut.” Now, think of a person – real or imagined – who has been held out to you as an example of how to be of live, but who you have always had doubts about. Write a poem that exaggerates the supposedly admirable qualities of the person in a way that exposes your doubts.

Why can’t you be like him?
Look at him,
He is smart, diligent,
Caring for his elders,
Reliable, and ready to help,
Why can’t you do anything right?

I am the one you always compared to,
Look at me,
I’m not smart just educated,
I’m not diligent but I have to do things on my own,
Caring but that is just my responsibility,
Reliable without any choices for me,
I still can’t do things right,

Look at where we are now,
I’m still here unlike them.