# July Challenge: "Gratitude"



## Chesters Daughter (Jul 1, 2015)

In celebration of Nellie's first Laureate, both Gumby and astroannie relinquished their input to afford her the honor of a single-handed selection. That said, the prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by Nellie is: *Gratitude*

You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board.

We are continuing to allow optional anonymity this month. You may post your entries yourself, or, if you'd like to remain anonymous, you may PM your entry to me, *Chester's Daughter.* If you are posting anonymously, please indicate in your PM which board, public or workshop, you desire your entry posted on.

Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you submit. You have a *ten minute grace period* to edit your piece, but anything edited after that will likely see your entry excluded from the challenge. 

As usual, if you'd wish to protect your first rights, post your entry in the *workshop thread,* *and post a link to it in this thread. Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualified.

The inclusion of links of any kind within an entrant's Challenge post is prohibited and shall be promptly removed by staff.

Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussion related to the challenge can take place in the Bards' Bistro.

Now that the 'like" function is again blessing us with its presence, we respectfully request that you refrain from using it until this thread has been closed and the poll has been opened.

This challenge will close on the 15th of July at 7pm EST.*


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## Darkkin (Jul 1, 2015)

*Small Things*

Small Things

In a world that just keeps screaming, fighting in battles and debate--
There is a place of refuge, a place away from all the rage and hate.
It is a quiet place, still, shaded, quite forgotten and small—
A place where things, those little things matter, count for all.
There is no map to point the way, no app to get there quick.
It is known by those who have been broken, lost, sick—

Found between one breath and the next, when something shifts,
be it a gaze, a burden—but something in the perception drifts—
Revealing this place hidden within the folds of the raging world.
Little things--a warm hand around which thin, cold fingers are curled,
the flight of a milkweed seed, the simple ability to see, to read—
Foolish many call it, but they cannot comprehend the simple need.

--Why does it matter?

Because it is such a small thing, this place called contentment—
Known to those whose faith in the small things is true.
--The key is sometimes as easy as a basic, thank you.


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## rcallaci (Jul 2, 2015)

*Once upon a Cat*

Once upon a Cat

As I crawled amongst the bush and weed--- I came
upon a one-eyed  cat--- that was really, really fat--- that 
looked pretty much like a hungry lion. I soiled my pants, got up, 
and did a belly dance--- as it mewled and  roared away. It 
sniffed my crotch-- as I watched-- the vultures circle  patiently---
for their crunch and munch tasty human lunch.

As it was just about to bite through my thigh I saw a dead 
fly wedged in its eye. Without any doubt--- I plucked it out --- 
as the puss and blood oozed all about.  The lion stared at me
with two good eyes---and with a lick on my cheek---said its goodbyes. 
I remain grateful to this very day--- to that little fly--- that flew and died 
in that big cats eye.


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## Firemajic (Jul 2, 2015)

*Persona Non Grata*

*Would you be grateful
if I unlocked your cage
tried to soothe your rage
or would you turn
would your yellow eyes burn
my kindness spurn
would you devour
my soul with your power
laugh as you watch me cower

Do you see me as prey
as a cat with a mouse plays
would you make me pay
for my love and kindness
would your gratitude be swallowed 
by your need to feed
on my fear as you hear me plead


No longer human but not quite beast
but at the very least
evil misunderstood
something that once was good
endured more pain than anyone should
what do you see
when you look at me

Tattooed hands covered in scars
gripping cold steel bars
I can smell your unholy desire
you try so hard to disguise
the rage in your yellow eyes
with a killing blow I realize
my Son, I am everything you despise
*


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## musichal (Jul 2, 2015)

*Tolerance Schmolerance*







*Tolerance Schmolerance

*_by musichal_


We do not like your attitude,
your profoundly lacking gratitude,
you aren't like us, you make a fuss
though you had ample latitude,
so don't call us unjust.

You know we want you out of here,
prohibitively, we're quite sincere,
you lack our wit, don't throw a snit,
you will receive no souvenir,
just leave, we call it quits.

Why insist on hanging around?
Comparatively, you're but a clown,
we laugh at you and hate you, too.
We close the hatches, batten down,
we loathe all that you do.

We do not like your attitude,
your profoundly lacking gratitude,
you aren't like us, you make a fuss
though you had ample latitude,
so don't call us unjust.



​


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## apple (Jul 3, 2015)

*Givin' and Gettin'*

Givin’ and  Gettin’



I saw a cow cow a’walkin’.
Lean and nice,
fat in just the right spots.

Her milk bag swayed full.

“For me,” I thought. “All for me.”

It tasted like I like.
She stood real still.


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## aj47 (Jul 3, 2015)

Gratitude


Gift me with challenge!
My thanks will be reflected
in my growing strength.


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## sirmirror (Jul 4, 2015)

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...atitude-quot?p=1876438&viewfull=1#post1876438


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 4, 2015)

*Anonymous submission:
*
*America the Beautiful*


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## Ethan (Jul 5, 2015)

*Eternal Gratitude*

Two thousand years,
Two millennia’s fears,
Since one life paid for all.
Greater love hath no man,
In letters one cross tall,
Stand for your eternity;
Yet silence greets the call.

Is there silver,
Is there gold,
could repay in some part,
the cost of what was given there,
and the blood shed to impart?

What debt is owed,
Whose back is bowed,
By weight of sacrifice?
What will you say,
Upon that day,
Aware who paid your price?

Thrones, Dominions,
Powers and Choirs,
That day shall sing his praise,
and somewhere midst those gloried ranks
My thanks, to God, I’ll raise.


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## The Defenestrator (Jul 8, 2015)

Birthday Tree


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## Meteli (Jul 9, 2015)

*Stewing*

I should not have married. 
As my patience always wearing thin,
every time you verbally carried 
that there must have been

another man for you far better
than I will ever amount to or try for, 
I should have left you with that setter
and stayed away forevermore.

Because just like you 
I would have been 
happier with any other chicken stew
life would have thrown cold under my chin.

We as fools do
did stumble
into this marriage.

But I will give applause
as a man with gratitude,
for the sixty years of strife it was,
each and all battles against your attitude.

As pains of old age are nothing to me,
As I know you'll as well,
have to go through all that like a guarantee, 
grumbling beside me, my belle.


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## Cato (Jul 11, 2015)

"Being Nice"  [Warning: language]

*G*ratitude's an awful word
*R*unning through the air absurd 
*A*sking "Now don't be rude"
*T*hankfulness and obligation 
*I* despise with profanation 
*T*heir credit I'll sure exclude
*U*nrequested, give it quits
*D*on't sigh and wait for "thanks." It's
*E*asy to be fucking crude.


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## McJibbles (Jul 12, 2015)

Gratitude:

The day was hot
The earth was dry
Fireworks were shot
That Fourth of July

That day had passed
It came and went
It didn't last 
the merriment 

A dirty man
in worn out shoes
sat with a can
Singin' the blues

The people looked
the other way
They were booked
that busy day

I watched him stand 
Beside 5th Street
And shook his hand
In summer heat

A soldier's eyes
A soldier's heart
I had to cry
when he played guitar

No medals left...
No uniform...

Just a weathered Soul
to keep him warm 
Till winter came again.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 14, 2015)

*Mister Peter the Redeemer*

In the frigid June of '14,
you started out
as a name and number
culled from the lips
of a convict,
and, loath to take time
 from Matt's call, 
hastily scrawled
on the last available sheet
of a ragged spiral notebook.

Call made,
message left,
on a Saturday afternoon
(no less)
and to my shock,
and your apparent need
to cause a coronary,
you called me right back.
Imagine that.

Thus began 
the salvation of my son,
who attempted to sunder 
his soul from his flesh
aided by a gun.

Leo vs. Leo 
should have shot it down,
yet fickle fate afforded us
a football field
of common ground.

How fortunate is my Matt
to have you by his side,
had fate offered us a million,
you'd still be our chosen guide.

For in a world of shysters
bloated with self import,
you shine forth as a beacon
both in and out of court.

Not aloof nor condescending,
as seems prerequisite
in your realm,
you hang on to humanity
while deftly handling the helm.

May God bless and keep you,
yet may He leave you 
here for years
to assist the many
Moms like me
who have nothing left but tears.

And once my son is sprung,
a frame of platinum 
will be hung
to house that slip of notebook paper
from whence his freedom
had begun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_A mere year has passed
__and alas,
 I now await alone,
thanks to the wicked curve
fickle fate has thrown.
If only I had known.
_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *.

Hammer and nail at the ready,
I poise,
solo and blue.
Your wings are now a few weeks old,
the sting of your absence
still far too new.

I'd hoped decades would be mine
to thank you through and through,
but some greeting cards sent
and a single poem penned
were all I had time to do

so whenever you spy
Matt or I smile
please know it's due to you.

Peace be ever yours, my sweet Pete,
'til next we meet, I'll have to stew
and simmer each ounce 
of gratitude I own; 
hope Heaven allows home brew.

Journey well, 
dear Captain Cooperman,
the course you set us
will be honored true,
and the victors' dinner
promised the crew,
however long postponed,
is still on you.

Even now, I feel you, Peter,
despite sob induced ague.
You're stuck with me eternally


for never will I be severed
from my shattered soul's glue.


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## PiP (Jul 15, 2015)

*Abandoned*

Sunken eyes like pools of liquid misery –watch and wait
Matted fur on sagging skin drapes the skeleton of death
as tics suck blood until bloated with self indulgence
Pus encrusted sores ooze as flies drink their fill
and fleas feast like starving piranhas.

Thirst fights hunger
Tongue dry like the sand from the heat of a thousand suns.
Hunger growling in the belly demanding survival
Hope the master of despair

A hand reaches out in kindness
Tail wags wearily in gratitude
Sad brown eyes of hope implore
“Please help me…”


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## Mutimir (Jul 15, 2015)

Senility

Sometimes forgetting
What you say
He’ll watch the snow outside
And think it’s May
Have pity on this man
Battling bouts of senility
Because he’ll always remember
This love for you eternally


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 15, 2015)

This challenge is now closed.


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