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For week 207 of our Writerscreed Challenges, we have the following prompt:

Idioms - Our poetry community here comes from all over the world. This week, we thought it would be fun for everyone share a bit of culture from your neck of the woods. So, this week we would like you to use an idiom from your country. 

Please include the idiom somewhere (title, in the body, at the bottom). We look forward to seeing what you come up with!

For our challenges, we accept and encourage all types of writing, you are not restricted in terms of style. We just ask you to please stay on topic and please read our post on topics we do not want glorified and condoned, as they will not be reblogged by us.

Tag your post #writerscreedchallenge and we will reblog your work throughout the week. Thanks, and we look forward to reading all your work. If you are concerned that your work was overlooked (Tumblr can be glitchy with tags), please contact @katrinnac She’s running the prompt this week.

*note: for writing that is not related to the challenge please use the tag #writerscreed*

As always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to message any one of the administrators or send us an ask in our inbox.

2 notes · See All

a harsh awakening

stone cold & frozen,

into a strictly ascetic

garden of isolation.

the path we were

always meant to follow,

or a consequence of the

dutiful pills we swallow?

if all else should fail

i’ll still believe in us,

it’s one of the side-effects

of incorruptible love.

@RhymingTherapy—Nov 2020 (my photo) poem inspired by @Writerscreed “the dutiful pills we swallow”

72 notes · See All

they’ll say don’t forget your medications

set daily reminders, it’s for recuperation

but when we’re close to being hollow

how could we forget

the dutiful pills we swallow,

keeping in check insanity,

maybe some irresponsibility

we won’t feel like breaking much

at how everything’s too much or

be hollowed out fast enough.

we’re used to bitter pills, colorful little things

swallowed black, and we’re quieter now

lips not moving but mind already screaming

why is everything so heavy?

what is wrong with my body?

what is wrong with me?

15 notes · See All

Prompt - Dutiful pill to swallow

Are we really a thankful nation to all our heroes

to pay our heartfelt homage and not be zeroes!

We try our hard to pretend that we really care

but we pay lip service and hearts are nowhere!

We are indifferent to sacrifices of anyone

we are not sensitive and actually we shun!

We sing praise of our heroes only if

we can draw some mileage out of it!

We act as if it’s a dutiful pill for us to swallow

as if it’s thrust on us but within we’re hollow!

We do nothing to remember their services

from our thankful hearts out of our choices!

We do all only as if doing some official duties

as if we have to complete some formalities!

When it wouldn’t all be a dutiful pill to swallow

when will our acts be worth emulating or follow!

9 notes · See All

The dutiful pills we swallow:

The ones of various colors that make us well

Out in the world of phantom perfections,

Gray men who turn into purple prose people in the shadows

Ones that dull us and keep sunshine and poetry from

Emerging from our fingertips like magic and romance;

Keep our emotions suppressed under layers of dress clothes,

Bruises stark but lovingly caressed by the cloth and fingers of opiates

Duty calls to build stone walls, walk grassy knolls,

Hide in the wood; What really should be done is scandal:

Throw them in the river, be the wind, swim in the sand;

Allow the stars to hear as you climb to the top of roofs and bellow your kinks to clouds

18 notes · See All

I have swallowed

All the syllables

Clawing toward

A cure, be kind

Be quiet and learn

To keep your mouth

Shut, settle like sediment

For small mercies, learn

To love the taste of blood

Salt and saliva, fold myself

Into a box out of the sun

Learn what it means

To wait

59 notes · See All

‘You are an adult,’ they say, 'act like one.’ But at every turn, they tell me what to do; as if they couldn’t trust me enough to do anything right; as if I can’t do anything right and I can’t help but wonder, if that’s what been an adult means; knowing there’s nothing right I can do? Yet I yearn for more, and more, and more, not wanting to understand; not wanting to believe; that I am not good enough. But what if they’re right; and adulthood is just the taming of souls? What if chains and prisons is all that’s left? What if… and stifled by the shadow of a faceless fear, I tell myself to walk away cleanly, but how does one walk away cleanly from filth? It smells. It clings. But perhaps that’s for the best. Filth smells and clings, but left untended; covered in seeds of faith, hope, blood and tears, it grows into something defying the stars.

Ladifatu Isa. Dutiful pills we swallow. 27/11/20

14 notes · See All

We over sleep, purposely. 

That way we can remind ourselves in quiet.

Of the holiday, celebrating.

Partaking of to much pie and confessions.

All ending in the same sentence.

Don’t tell your sister.

Don’t let her know how untrusting you are.

To her , she confesses doubts about me.

I’m spreading tales of her , etc.

To me, it is they are taking advantage of her.

To bring back the mother I once knew.

The laughing one, who takes no offense.

That is my holiday wish.

Who do I approach with it?

9 notes · See All

cannot glide down easy

the dutiful pills we swallow

i choke on dust spilled

on the floor, whirled

into this miserable air

[ a lonely dervish

dressed in white, spinning ]

here to distract

from pain, from yearning

this little bit of amber

this little bit of green

my click top fails & falls

from the sink’s edge

dancing it down

to find only

the floor

or is it a cliff i need fly from

with the ocean raging below

38 notes · See All

I swallowed that
sugar coated
magazine ad
burped out a supermodel

gave myself orthorexia
celebrating turkeys’
long thin legs

as I chewed on tradition
pennies in my mouth
cutting gums and tongue

fell in love
with a girl
over perfectly portioned

she swallowed
the same as I

8 notes · See All

My voice echo’s in the house.

She, our ruling monarch, will never admit she can not hear.

Nor will she seek out help for it.

A phone call comes in.

The match begins.

Who was it she asks.

A part of me knows what is next.

I answer with all my voice,

the house thunders with my voice.

Her answer is the same


I try again.

The same response.

Finally she hears me.

Time for round two

1 notes · See All

 Mother sleeps upon the cold leather couch.

Weathered blanket covers her even it the heat is at eighty.

The tv is on because she believes it helps her sleep.

The family calls me.

 Reminding me of duties I already know about.

Thought you were going to be there earlier.

Thought , God know what. How could I forget?

I gather my bags and head for the door for overnights we now share.

The rain takes out what ever hair style I had.

The weather is warm, like a june rain that has a cold.

It nips the body to remind it that this is not the summer you knew

Masks ready for out the door.

Brother awaits with turkey and family for this day.

We try to make the holiday cheer.

But it is the holiday without him.

Without Dad making bad jokes or asking how life is going.

It is a holiday without a chair being set up.

Yet for Mom, we keep the other masks up as well.

We are still family, I know he watches.

Save the drumstick for him. 

1 notes · See All

Your hands like a deck of cards in my hands–sometimes I don’t have words even when I try.

These dutiful pills we swallow: 52 weeks, four suits each of thirteen


clubs / diamonds / spades

Is this your card? The queen of hearts?


Videotape by Radiohead plays on a loop

while I dream of when I can hold you next

how my lungs will feel unburdening their uncaged ribs into your

willow’s bend spine,

every inhale a rhythm of

bones and flesh to bones and flesh

milk and honey, a promised land in

a single body, a single face

holding you closer than I’ve ever held my own breath.


I can only

swallow weeks, sallow cheeks, bearing

the prints of mask straps like footsteps in snow

walking ever towards your door for

a simple pleading request,

may I touch your hands for my daily bread?


The hospital is my happy place that takes and takes but

I’ve only wanted to give

until I met you and said, maybe I could take too.


But these dutiful pills we swallow

sit undigested,

a lump somewhere below my feathered head.

I’m flying for you.

I’m covering my every inch in lilacs and honey for you–I want

to give something sweet,

something that spells your name in the night and

smells your skin come morning

still on my skin.


How simple to be a little human being.

How simple to be a single star in the sky looking down at us all

likewise cocooned in our private, shared darkness. Swaddled in night.

Cradled in winter, her

arms wide enough for all of our heads but

I’m embedded in a bed I didn’t ask for. 

I never wanted to rest.


These breadbasket arms are indefinitely emptied;

How simple to hold you

with my gaze only.


I touch your hands from six feet away.


I feel your breath from sixty yards away.


I taste your name and it is three days cold.


I feel your heat from six weeks ago.


I kiss you and it feels like six months ago but it is in my mouth, now,

a single second somehow saved and savored again and again.


You do not know how many pills of these I keep–

your smiling cheeks moving towards me, a perfect pillow to rest my lips,

the sky laughing with us as we overlook a bridge into

the same winding creek all the bridges here stand upon.

I am that single creek.

I am winding your whole city looking for you

in every fallen leaf, every single stolen moment

stripped from a past that


Will one day come again.

Will one day come again.

Will one day come again.

16 notes · See All

This is how my legend starts:

By me setting aside my heart and love,
by closing my eyes and ears
to the sound of my heart breaking,
shattering into a thousand pieces.

By marrying as my king commands,
and remaining the dutiful child
who does as she’s told,
not a single moment of rebellion.

By leaving my the only life I’ve known,
and take the hand of a stranger
to make my way to a stranger land,
not a word ever spoken against my fate.

By protecting my newest kingdom in battle,
against someone who set duty aside
and decided that he should get a crown,
never hesitating in protecting who needs it.

By being the Queen I was told I should be,
but I want you to know this about me,
all I ever did was what was expected,
for these are the dutiful pills we swallow,

and this is how my legend starts.

- Ely C. Winters.

5 notes · See All

I had to learn
early on
what it meant
to be marked woman,
what it cost
to conceal
my bitter words
behind my teeth.

I had to learn
to hold my feelings—
thought inconvenient,
in my chest,
leaving all
my inner longing
to stay trapped
within my throat.

I had to learn,
my darker hue
had no claim
to righteous anger,
and so I held
my plastic smile
despite the hurt
within my gut.

They teach you
early on
so that you never
taste your freedom.
These are the dutiful pills
we swallow
as our bones
begin to break.


20 notes · See All

Giving up

Was always an option

It was my greatest strength

Or greatest weakness


A word I only knew second hand


A word that did not exist in reality


A word I no longer write

For I notice my heart

Feeling for my friends

Feeling for the world

Feeling for the lost

But my feet unmoving

Always unmoving

In you,

I found hypocrisy

Being severed

Feet moving where I have never been

My heart still filled with all the same fears

More uncertainty than ever before

But certain in who I wanted to be

To keep the promises I made

In spirit

Not just letter

I moved towards who I longed to be

I lost the hope

I could ever be your friend

I could ever pour anything good

Into your life ever again

For I saw the weight I tied around you

The one I tied to the only other friend I chose to truly fight for

I tied a weight to those I left behind

In the pursuit of becoming something true

But even losing what I only longed to give,

Press on I must

For the spirit of my words will never change

No matter what

“Even if ever

Truly means never

The truth in my words

Will remain forever”

Oh the dutiful pills we swallow

15 notes · See All

Head up

Turn around

Never look scared

Don’t you dare drown.

Tears are weak

Anger is power

The one who survives

Makes the rest cower.

Achievement omly

Victory rings hollow

In the skulls that were crushed

The dutiful pill we swallow

5 notes · See All

Bitter Pills

The expectations of others on our lives
Are the dutiful pills we swallow
They rattle around inside us
Absorbed into our bloodstream until they become duties
On occasion they weigh us down
Influence us to take paths and journeys that conflict with our soul
Nonetheless we know
Sometimes in life it is easier to swallow a bitter pill than have a fierce conversation
It may be a cowards way of avoiding conflict
And while it may appear easier initially
It is poisoning you
Bit by little bit.

Delightsofmysoul 25 November 2020 @writerscreed challenge 206

20 notes · See All
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