Life/Lines - April 2

Submitted poems for April 2, 2020

A daily poetry practice to generate and sustain the Life/Lines among us, for published and novice poets alike

Join us to receive a daily poetry prompt every weekday during April. Sign up here!



Write a short poem (rhyming not necessary) that includes each of the following 5 words (anywhere and in any order). Poems should not exceed 7 or 8 lines.


Send us your poem via our Submissions page or post on Twitter or Facebook using the hashtag #lifelines.


Poems submitted for April 2


The rebel walks an iron blade,
Moving in a forward fade.
The tower in the distance lit,
In concert with it's people, fit.

— Kris Ainsworth



Leaning forward in my seat
from the tower of the balcony in the concert hall
I try to catch your eye
through the distance, the smoke, the glare of the spotlight

Coming up in the suburbs,
becoming a groupie the height of my imagination of how to rebel

against the fate of my mother, her hand on her iron into the deep night.

— Anonymous



Together we’ll stand on towers and lift our voices
in concert against the visible and invisible enemies
Together we’ll rebel against disease, untruth, greed, abuse of power
With iron resolve, we’ll hunker, sacrifice, survive, then thrive
Together, moving forward, always forward
toward Hope
toward Faith
toward Love.

— Sharon Derry



Concert of Death (04.02.2020)

In the Tower of Babel
They held the concert of death
Where a rebel came forward
With the iron rod of life
He shoved the rod
In the cycle of death
The spokes bent
The cosmos: never the same again...

— Jey Sushil
Track for International writers



In the Ludovican Convent

Mother superior was an iron sovereign
we Sisters prayed in perfect concert
whenever the bell tower called
marching forward towards Heaven
not one rebel between our lines
no glorious vulvae in the margins
butt we had still left our signs

— Tobias Feldmann
(International Writers Track)



Sisyphus Redux
With all forces
in concert
the rebel pushes
iron strength
against imposing tower
         2020 04 02                                        by Lloyd Klinedinst


To rebel in concert,
That would be grand.
To push forward with an iron will,
To scale the forbidding tower of this
Help wanted.

— J.D. Brown



Your spine: a tower, a column
Iron blood pushes you forward
The rushing of wind and the beat of a drum
A concert of cells, again and again
Rebel against dread,
You feat of nature

— Holly Gabelmann



Concert by Zoom

The maestro lifts her baton
a rebel action against the silence of isolation
leaning forward toward the tiny dot of a camera
as musicians scattered in iron-clad homes
await this sign to begin
a virtual concert for a real and frightened world,
a tower of hope in a flat landscape of fear.

— Steve Givens


illuminate the twisted tower,
iron skeleton
against the blackened sky.
crickets try to offer solace
their reedy concert
no match for the rebel frog
alone in the pond.

— Anonymous



I'd like to think I have the iron of
   a rebel.
The grit to turn my sorrow
   forward, snatch it by its head,
   turn it on its ear.
Play the sounds of my heart's concert
   from atop Cain's ivory tower.

— Sabrina Spence



concert cello
iron throat
penny whistle
tower teeth
     broken metronomes
     instrumentalize dust,
rebel theremin

— Jay Buchanan



Sweat dripped from her brow as the concert raged on,
A stacked tower of melodies racing forward,
Strict instructions bound their movements together - even as she felt an itch,
An itch to rebel, to break free from the sharp movements of the maestro,
The iron trappings of the music stand slowly enclosed her.

— Tanvi Kohli




I drift through the endless concert of email pings and buzzing
texts. After weeks inside, buckling against elastic time,
I shave my head. Hairs rebel against the clippers,
cowlicks twirling, long strands falling forward.
The new shorn head rebels against routine,
flinging me from my iron tower.

— Cathlin Noonan


I went to an iron metal concert
I was a rebel
I did not tell my mom
I was dancing with the devil
As I pushed forward through the crowd to the stage tower
My mind was set on singing my heart out with all my power

— Sarah Brown (12)
Wydown Middle School
Daughter of Rebecca Brown




behold your tower of song,
iron grates now pried from window frames
doors flung open, wide
johannesburg’s children in rebel concert,
pointing a way forward
“a blaze of light in every word”
hallelujah! hallelujah!

— Anonymous



I magine, from a lonely tower outside the court,.
R ebels shackled for their fight against the king,
O pposing voices in a ragged concert,
N aked enemies, from this day forward.

— Robert Henke



Looking for Salvation

Go Forward, Rebel
In earnest concert lead us
Past the iron tower
To the pleasant shore.

— Jo Schaper


From his haunch in nature’s tower looking forward past the lines
Rusting iron in trusty musket, looking out for movement signs.
The rebel sights his target, squinting tight along his sights,
Now in concert with treed others, triggers pull, balls take flight.

— Ted


Man's Inhumanity to Man

At the Gettysburg National Military Park, it's eerily quiet
But I can imagine Rebel and Union soldiers meeting on those three July days.
Oh, the blood that was spilled, brothers against brothers, at close range, the smell of gunpowder and death.
At Culp's Hill, I climb the tower stairs to look over the battlefield,
where brave soldiers with steel Howitzers and iron wills fought to defend their way of life as well as the land.
In concert with the cavalry, infantrymen and artillery units followed orders, even when the strategy would not allow them to make forward progress.
President Lincoln stood on this consecrated ground as I have; echoes of the Gettysburg address running through my mind.

— Kim Lehnhoff



Iron clad deranged opinions irritate.
Unmasked wannabe king trumpets
rebel dialogue from white tower.
In concert, supreme groupies
sing praises, repeat refrains.
Fast forward to fall. Install a solid leader.
Time for a brand new reign.

— Linda O'Connell


In the meadow the blue birds gather
and the day begins to hush. Cardinals come,
swoop in too, the bamboo stand of trees.
Delightful bobs and bounces ring, a festival of sounds,
in a concert where voices chime, like Angelus bells at dusk.
Purple shadowed vestments, usher forward evening’s peace,
and offer mingled fragrances, Nature’s own incense—
But then!
Sounds a voice, a dissonant sound, a mockingbird arrives!
With a brash flourish, this rebel bird, lands on a gate of iron
to tower and dance and flick his tail, insist on being heard.
Without true song, he merely mocks the music made by others.
This vagabond, this troubadour, deaf to the grace of quiet,
glides into the dark, to sing all night, his solo serenade.

— Bernie Mossotti


A tower guards the iron gate
Soon to open for a rebel crowd
Pounding beats call them forward
To press against the concert stage.

— Karen Engelkenjohn



Headline image: Dan Meyers on Unsplash