November 6th, poem number 3:

(from prompt word, "sand"):

Sibling Schadenfreude
The holiday started with bliss;
I went to the beach with my sis
But there's one fatal flaw:
I've got sand in my bra
And that brat will just laugh fit to piss

November 7th, poem number 1:

(prompt word, "clip")

Home Repair
My faucet was sporting a chip
(Altho' it's not started to drip)
To fix up our tap
My son used a wrap
And fastened it up with a clip.

(Okay this is cuter if you can see the little pencil sketch I did of a sink faucent with a bulky wrap bandage on it and a giant paperclip on the knot)

November 7th, poem number 2:

(prompt word, "fish") <- this one might be cheating. Does it count if I use a type of (metaphorical) fish but not the actual word "fish" itself?


Plot Twist
Reading a book on sea-faring
Full of stories of daring
Then a murder occurs
And the ship's amateurs
Are fooled by a school of red herring

November 7th, poem number 3:

(prompt word, "race"):

Some people think that my place
Is fixed by the shade of my face
I say to them, "phooey!
"Such thinking is screwy!
"Please don't be so stuck on my race!"

November 8th, poem number 1:

(Prompt word: "poor")

Anti-Green-Thumb, a.k.a. BullShit
I succumbed to the gardening allure
But concluded that my soil is poor:
The plants that I tried
All up and died....
It *must* be they need more manure!

(I also did a little sketch for this one, of a row of withered plants and a garden sign stuck to the end via a stake that says, "not my fault", covered by graffiti proclaiming, "yeah, right!")

November 8th, poem number 2:

(from the prompt, "rich")

Playground Economics
You found a quarter, you say?
On the ground, out of the way?
From the ditch
To Idle Rich....
You're one of the wealthy, today.

November 8th, poem number 3:

(from the prompt, "name")

Creative Hubris
I've invented a marvellous game!
It puts all the others to shame.
You know, I'm quite smart.
... There's just this *one* part....
I can't seem to think of a name.

November 9th, poem number 1:

(from the prompt, "vault")

Olympics
It's easy to rack up a fault
When you try to make points on the vault
Twist through the air
And show off your flair
But don't move a foot once you halt

November 9th, poem number 2:

(Not from a prompt, from listening to the chatter of my 8 year old neighbor's child)

Enchanted Woods
The forest is full of odd lumps
Where the mast covers up the old stumps
But I have a young friend
Who insists to the end
That in truth, they're really troll rumps

November 9th, poem number 3:

(from the prompt, "crime")

Cashier Error
I've committed a terrible crime
I'll be jailed at the peak of my prime
I did something bad...
I shorted a lad.
He went home, but I still have his dime