Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

Each month this blog will feature a word of the month to stimulate a poem. Anyone who wishes to share a poem is invited to participate. The point is to enjoy the challenge of writing a poem inspired by a single word. It doesn’t matter if this is your first poem or five hundredth. It’s all done for the fun and exercise of writing.

Cutoff for posting the current Word of the Month poem is the last day of the month.

On the first day of each month, a new word will be posted to challenge your imagination for that month.

Please post your poems on this page, so everyone can find the poems easily. 

Thank you and have fun!


PS: The word for August is QUESTION.

49 comments on “Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

  1. Why, why why?

    You always ask this question –
    A steady stream of “why?”
    I often cannot answer,
    So sometimes give a lie.

    This question gets annoying,
    But doesn’t bother you!
    The world is full of questions
    When you are only two!

  2. Question Mark

    It’s a long a mark of query,
    Teapot of desire,
    That sings as the highest
    True voice in the choir.

    A note of demand,
    And a wonder of who,
    A what deep in meaning,
    A wistful of brew.

    It’s an ask,, not an answer,
    A voice of provoke.
    A wheel full of wonder
    With a single long spoke.

    It’s an itch without scratching.
    A cup brimmed with whine.
    A try at a difference
    Between yours and mine.

    Not a state or a statement,
    But where, when, and who.
    The poke that demands
    Is it me…is it you?

  3. Word of the Month Poem
    August 2019 word: Question
    By Janet Kay Gallagher


    The question is why?
    Some questions are easy to answer
    Why do I have to do that?
    Because I am your mother and I said so.

    Why is that bird red and the other one blue?
    Because God who created them made them those colors.
    Why didn’t the car start?
    Because the battery is dead.

    There are times when there is no answer to why.
    When we are so stressed and have no answers.
    Why did he or she die?
    Why couldn’t they be healed?

    Sometimes there is no answer to why, this side of heaven
    where we will understand it all.
    Accept what happens and don’t ask why
    Answer the questions you can and release the others.

  4. Journey
    By Linda Boyden ©2019

    I cried
    until the foothills disappeared.
    This willful abandon of all I desire:
    musky sage, rolling earth,
    the weight of your breath
    on my shoulder while we slept.

    The jet engines roar into life,
    drags me along, trapped in steel,
    fragile dust in comparison.

    Below me,
    dull browns,
    stale greens,
    thick blacks,
    return my blank stare,
    as clouds glide
    by the window in tandem.

    Periodically, the engines accelerate
    into frightful spasms,
    like a dragon’s fitful slumber.
    I question trusting a machine:
    I wonder about the sensation
    of plunging from this altitude.

    No warning, just an abrupt
    free-fall to my death,
    No steadfast cancerous march
    to eternity then;
    only a searing separation from life,
    exactly like the pain of
    leaving you behind.

  5. My poem:

    every mystery is a question ?
    every sound a query ?
    every person inimitable ?

    every abyss a darkness ?
    every chasm a path ?
    every molecule a morph ?

    embrace the period at the bottom ?
    ride the hook on top ?
    swing up; flip it! discover !

  6. WOM: Question!

    BBC question time, comes to our screens
    Broadcast in Britain
    it has to be seen
    Guest speakers challenged through public debate
    Subjected to questions on topics of late

    We just want straight answers
    They don’t always please
    A gang of five figures, political MP’s
    One’s a comedian & then there’s the rest
    They represent parties, electing the best

    Their opponents confront one another with words
    Cackling and jibing, it’s highly absurd
    We want to believe that they care about us
    Society, civilians, the homeless lose trust

    Justice is fought for but how can we win
    With Brexit, God help us
    The troubles begin
    In the words of John Lennon
    I hear his words sung
    I too wish that one day
    the world live as one

  7. The Question
    Cory Corrado (2019) ©

    When I turn off the lights,
    there’s nowhere to hide,
    Just me.
    And my thoughts.
    And the dark.
    All alone.

    Are we friends?

  8. ?

    The ascent behind us,
                   I see us now
                            traversing the gentle downward slope
                              of the everlasting question.
                                 Feeling, these days,
                                      as if the free fall
                                          will come sooner
                                          rather than later.
                                     This inevitable curving descent has begun,
                              faster than we ever imagined,
                          speeding to that final hiccup
                 of empty space


    Molly Hogan ©2019

  9. Questions Questions

    I have so many questions



    rampant in my mind,

    pushing and shoving to be first!

    I hope my head doesn’t


    Why what and how — they all

    want to be “the question”…….


    My head is exhausted! I can hardly


    from all those questions making a ruckus!

    Then the Why question

    calmly and quietly, jumps in –

    “Why are you so flustered?

    You know you’d be lost without us!”

    I say, with relief,

    “You’re right.”

    (An acrostic sonnet

    Unhappiness is mine, the end is nigh.
    No hope of joy, now she has gone away.
    Restless nightmares find me wondering why;
    Each day the skies are dark and grey.
    Quite why she turned me down I do not know;
    Unanswered questions swirl around my head.
    I have to ask, why did she hurt me so?
    There was no need for all the things she said.
    Each friend has sage advice along the way.
    Don’t worry, one day you’ll find love that’s true;
    Love sometimes can be very cruel they say.
    Out there are many other girls for you.
    Very soon the pain will ease, I’m told.
    Especially as I’m only eight years old

    Bryn Strudwick

  11. Questions

    A spiritual leader said,
    You must be like a child.
    Does that mean asking questions?
    Does it mean wondering why?

    The answer’s not important
    And impossible at times.
    So let us wonder, look with awe,
    And keep on asking why.

  12. He is angry; says he doesn’t care.
    It is killing her, his own daughter. He will not communicate.
    I want to ask why, but I don’t think I want the answer to that.
    That question. It hangs in the air.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s