I came across what might be a godsend this month: the random poem idea generator, which pieces together some interesting bits of information to manufacture some very thought-provoking (and at other times, potentially ridiculous) writing prompts. For poem #8, I was given this combination:
“Pick apart the rich while everyone around you is deep in prayer.” This one (#8) is as yet untitled:
It is not difficult to condemn a man
who lines his pockets with silver
when the raincloud he seeded
grows thick and heavy below him.
The joined palms on the earth
don’t pray for rain, but they still get wet
and despite their psalms, no sterling rays
warm their shaking hands.
Someday, they tell themselves,
a piece of heaven might fall
or the stalks they sow will grow tall enough
to climb and kiss the sun
And seated at the throne of god
will be nothing more than a man in a suit
with silver in his pockets
and his head in the clouds.
If you’re curious as to the more ridiculous possibilities offered by the idea generator, this was my other option: “Realize you were right all along about firewood while looking at pornography.” Granted, that might have some serious potential.