This month’s writing prompt was Possibilities. Here we showcase all the responses that were submitted.
Possibilities prompt: It’s alluring, this sense of the unknown, the what-if. A year that is open and unwritten. Who could you meet? Who may you become? It’s fascinating to imagine the person that will come out of all of this, whatever this may be. So much yet to happen, a lot still to live.
seven months from now
I’ll be on a plane,
more than just flying,
soaring, going far away–
never too far, just not close enough to stay.
Seven, six, five, four,
threes
they come in
waves.
That’s enough from me.
I’m leaving myself
with the long fleeting days.
Seven months and much more.
Seven times
Six lives
Five reasons pull me partway
Four more lucky responses
before Three swells
come To
break the
One version of myself
in the way.
by Kylie Newton (@poems.by.kylie Insta)
Lonely Thoughts
When you’re alone,
With just,
your fears,
For company,
Then the world,
Becomes,
A terrifying,
Frightening place,
Sending,
Dreadful dreams,
Of what,
Might be.
by Simon Collinson
Possibilities
I’ve been thinking about how, in this world,
So much seems impossible:
The pink of the sky some mornings,
That tears, like snowflakes, are unique.
Peace.
Yet we scatter seeds in spring, place papery bulbs into pots,
Amidst the what-ifs and doubts and maybes:
The sloping weather,
Unimaginable traffic.
War.
Still, we utter prayers to belief.
We are made of hope.
What if we let go of certainties?
Let the lawn go longer between mows
So who-knows-what might come.
Listened to the quietness of the trees
Closed the book on recipes
And used what’s already in the larder.
It’s a possibility.
Add more salt.
See.
by Leanne Simmons
Turning the Page
Gladly open the door,
Peek inside,
Leaves left unturned.
Locks sit with a singular key...
Footprints await on the floor,
Secrets which hide,
Memories returned,
Leading to this brand new version of me.
by Lucy Georgia (@turningthepage08 Insta)
My First Wash of the New Year
The clock strikes 12.
The sky becomes a rainbow, and the air fills with laughter.
Flashes of lights, a million different colors paint the sky.
Children scream and clutch to their mothers, while others cheer gleefully.
Drinks are spilled, clinking too harshly in excitement.
Girls frantically shove fruits down their throats, cross their fingers, and wish on every lucky star.
“Happy New Year!” is heard in every crevice of the world, it bounces off the walls, echoing throughout.
My mother approaches me, she’s had far too much champagne.
Her hands grasp me tightly.
I follow as she pulls me into a swirl of people, some I know, some I don’t.
Their voices wash over me, like a wave that keeps crashing.
They want me to dance, and scream, and cheer and give into the excitement of the night.
I politely decline.
Instead, I escape the madness and make way to a place of great solace.
Slowly, I unzip my dress from behind. My hair falls loose against my back, set free from the hold of hairpins. A mirror stands before me, reflecting me in my most vulnerable state.
I wait till I no longer can see my face staring back, and instead, a cloud of steam faces me.
Once the room feels heavy with heat, and even the walls have begun to sweat, I make my way.
My thoughts pick up as if they were running at full speed. My breath quickens.
There is so much to do.
So,
So,
Much.
Water rushes over me.
Like a wave of forgiveness and solitude, I let it trickle down my spine.
I scrub myself clean, and with it my mind roams free to the new days ahead.
A whisper of celebration echoes from another room.
“Happy New Year!” I hear.
Images of ticking clocks come to a halt, and I finally can breathe.
by Mia Mandala (@mia_mandalawrites Insta)
What Might’ve Been
All the “what-ifs” and the “maybes”
Keep on haunting me
If only I'd said what was on my mind
If only I'd had some more time
Then maybe we'd be together now
Instead of two lost souls
Alone and haunted
By the endless possibilities
Of what might've been
by Samia Tarannum (@musingsbysamia Insta)
swim press 