She Made Me Do It! : Poem Prompt/Challenge

whimsy~mimsy that is…didn’t think anyone would take her seriously…
Hah! That’ll show her!

I was reminded of a game that we used to play as obnoxious teens.  We would go into a grocery store and find three of the most disparate, unrelated and incongruous (and often suggestive) items and buy them just to see the look on the checker’s face, while we tried to keep a straight face.

I had even more fun responding to mimsy’s prompt.

So, what do we call this Three-Word Incongruously Themed Poem Prompt Challenge?
“The Goofy Grocery List”?
“You Want Me To Do What?”?
How about “Three Nuts and a Squirrel”?
Yeah, I kind of like that…

So the idea: Make a poem on the stated theme (the Squirrel) and include the three words (I think nouns work best) or ideas based on them (the Nuts). 

So here’s mine.  Three words. One theme.  Limitless possibilities….

The Words:
Safe (the object)

The Theme:
Something Sensuous or Romantic (…let’s just roll with it…)

So there you have it. Stick the Squirrel in the cage that is your Mind, chuck in the Nuts, and see what breaks free!

Please post the results or links to them in the comments below.

Good luck and Have Fun!

108 thoughts on “She Made Me Do It! : Poem Prompt/Challenge

  1. Pingback: Cherry pie – Challenge prompt – From Johnny Crabcakes :) « whimsy~mimsy

  2. Cherry pie

    Grandma held no truck
    with that romantic nonsense,
    she said. All that flowery
    lovey-dovey bologna
    didn’t make the world go round.
    Hard work, a hot meal
    every night, and a way with a pie crust
    would cement things together
    for the 50 year Anniversary
    Spot of Honor in the Sunday
    section of the paper.

    But I remember hiding
    under the table cloth
    late one summer night
    when Grandpa came in late
    scented sweat and cut hay,
    a sweltering Saturday night.
    Grandma, her hands wrist deep in pie crust,
    and nape sprinkled with ringlets,
    tendrils escaped from the bun
    holding back her waist-length hair.

    I should tell you, his hands left grease marks
    against the blue gingham of her waist,
    and her sigh echoed in the stillness of the kitchen,
    competing only with the hum of the Whirlpool
    and their shuffling feet.

    Her head tipped back
    onto his shoulder,
    his lips tasting her ear, neck,
    as her hands hung flour coated,
    suspended motionless, in mid-air.

    They slowly moved in a circle,
    his hand navigating
    between the little pearl
    buttons, the tie at her waist,
    to cup her breast over layers
    of strictly starched white cotton
    before sliding away
    to clean up at the sink.

    I still remember now
    the shine of the tin on the pie safe as
    Grandpa savored every bite
    of his dessert at Sunday dinner, and
    how Grandma’s cheeks flushed
    as he proclaimed
    that he married her
    for how well she baked
    that fantastic cherry pie.


  3. So when I started reading yours Mimsy, I started to feel ashamed of the dirty piece of trash that I wrote, and then I started to blush and say “Oh, My! Why Gramps and Grammy! You devils!” and then I read on and now I’m ashamed again (well, a little)…

    What a lovely piece about family, nostalgia, secrets, growing up…SO much to read about here…
    Thank yOu–


  4. Pingback: Desperate Angel | A Prayer Like Gravity

  5. Here’s mine….such as it is….

    You know what I will do
    you know you will not stop me.

    I will
    release the fragile bird that you keep
    locked up tight in
    that cage under the thin
    crust of your self control


    I know how to crack
    that safe and I know what hides there
    and how it longs to be
    free of its soft prison. I hear that treasure
    ticking and trembling and I know how to twist
    and tweak those dials,
    how to drive my tongue like a truck
    the furrows of your flesh into that
    deepest of valleys where hides
    the master switch,
    that desperate
    angel of your


  6. Pingback: They made me do it (three nuts and a squirrel) | Susan Daniels Poetry

  7. You guys are tough to follow, but here goes…

    They made me do it (three nuts and a squirrel)
    this magic of us
    we own is nothing tangible
    but priceless
    and if I could
    I would not hide it
    in a safe
    it would not be close enough

    no, I would be
    the old woman
    who stuffs her mattress
    with a life savings
    not trusting banks
    or armored trucks

    and needing immediacy–
    the intimacy of knowing
    what is cherished
    is close to my skin daily
    and almost touched

    that woman I could become,
    hoarding this sweetness
    understands some things are known
    and cannot be learned–
    the way the skater in February
    skimming that crust of ice
    trusts it is just thick enough
    to carry the weight
    I give it, I know
    you will carry me

    it is a matter of feeling


  8. Her dress translucent against that wane of the moon
    he had been driving the truck all day
    and he was tired and he was hungry
    only having virtually a piece of crust at lunch to keep him going
    on his arduous trek of the day
    but she was inviting him to lay with her on the grass in the back yard
    the kids were asleep and she was encouraging
    luring him and sleep would not come easily now
    he smiled as he approached her noticing the diamond pendant necklace he had bought for her birthday had been retrieved from the safe and this and the flimsy lace dress was all she wore
    no tiredness didn’t play a part any longer he had to have her there and then on the grass in the moonlight


  9. Pingback: Old and new – A Poem « ruleofstupid

  10. Bit late to the party – but here we are anyway 🙂

    Old and New

    I had no truck with romance and fluff

    Call me a crusty old gust
    of yesterdays stuffy huff
    if you must

    There are gambles we can make
    but where the heart is at stake
    I played it safe

    I’d had my share of aches
    and desires to slake
    but squirrelled them away

    Until she came from the grey
    and for brief years she stayed
    to chip my walls away

    I lay with her form as it grew
    To become the only
    shape of love that I knew

    And my forlorn acorn of lust
    once scorned grew to an undauntable
    oak of us

    She the frame of life explained
    My veins contained
    the love we made

    She my sight, my reason why
    My strength to fight
    My air supply

    She all too temporary real
    Still fills my arms, I can feel
    Her gone

    Even now more real than anyone


  11. Pingback: 3 nuts and a Squirrel Challenge Prompt | Ramblings From A Mum

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  13. Pingback: They Made Me Do It (three nuts and a squirrel ? what?) « UnfetteredBS

  14. Fancy Free

    Take me
    for a ride
    hard and fast
    in your
    beat up old
    Ford pick-up

    drive me
    with your weathered
    brown leather jacket
    washed blue levis
    painted on that long
    lean lanky mass
    thick wavy black hair
    cigarette hanging out
    of your sexy mouth

    twinkling eyes
    carrying me
    on a
    jumpin’ joy~ride
    destination unknown

    fancy free

    rapid pulse

    tendering my
    heart within
    my protected safe
    securely ensconced

    my inner wealth,
    the treasure
    guarded deeply,
    encrusted within
    the cold dark steel
    washing, wishing away
    the combination
    of love and promise

    fancy free~wheelin’
    down the highway of life

    1 4 3 7
    click click
    right left right
    peak, delve
    one fragile porcelain vase
    one yellow rose
    one scripted note with
    three simple weighted words

    love forever please



  15. Pingback: Mimsy, What Have We Done?! | A Prayer Like Gravity

  16. Pingback: The nuts and a squirrel – The infinite poetry challenge! « ruleofstupid

  17. Pingback: Release (Three Nuts and a Squirrel) « Another Wandering Soul

  18. Pingback: Love missed but found – Poem inspired by a prompt | Stephen Kellogg's Blog

  19. Pingback: Truck, Safe, Crust – Poem based on a prompt | Stephen Kellogg's Blog

  20. Pingback: New Poetry challenge « ruleofstupid

  21. great fun – I have something I’ve already written and published, but fits in here nice (oo-errrr):

    when in Belgium do as the chocolates do

    they’re bad for my heart
            but anyway

    I enjoyed the red-glazed heart
    with its white-flat base nature
    one bite and the fondant melted free

    then the Green wad of marzipan
    on the dark praline bed
    suffusing with each mulch

    then the block corrugated about and
    glazed flat top and bottom (apart from the nut observation-bubble on top)
    breaks easy like an impossible heli-carrier with all its intricacies inside

    and lastly another heart wrapped dark brown with white topping
    crushed by sheer force of tongue this time
    but soft nougat nevertheless

            all gone
    it was enough but I
    look around for more anyway and see

    Carol’s legs resting on the bed curving
    slightly at the top into white panties
    and flat belly tanned with fondue sides above the panties

    good for both our hearts

    notes about ‘when in Belgium do as the chocolates do’ (which Silver Birch thought was too ‘racy’ for them!): the author has been told repeatedly that he has high cholesterol – he has to watch his intake; he doesn’t wholly believe it (another instance of old Grand Daddy Science finding something else it can count, and froth-at-the-mouth Pharmaceutical Industry seeing yet another market opportunity to create); Carol is his wife of 34 years whom he has grown to love better each year since he learned to stop taking himself so seriously (… funny, that!); they had a short holiday in Ghent in 2013.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. Pingback: Mimsy, What Have We Done?! | A Prayer Like Gravity

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