So far since you’ve returned from April, you’ve used “your” words, and you’ve used “these” words. Now we switch our focus to “their” words. This week we resurrect a very popular feature here. You know it as “Hey, That’s MY line!” You are asked to chose a line or phrase from another poet/poem that you admire and use their words as the inspiration, title or first line for your poem. Be sure to credit the poet/poem from which you choose and honor your poetic compatriots.



  1. Sorry for the lateness of the prompt.I had set it up scheduled to post a 8 am. Or so I thought. 8 pm was not acceptable so here it is! Walt.


  2. A Child Sitting Under the Piano
    (from Piano by D. H. Lawrence)

    A newly wed she spent
    Their savings on a player
    piano and earned the money

    Back by teaching piano
    Lessons to the neighbor
    Kids, the boys and girls

    Who played tag in the
    street outside her house
    And when she had children

    Of her own, she taught
    Them too
    There were always children

    Banging the screen door
    As they ran in and out
    Her twisted fingers can no

    Longer coax music from
    The ivory keys but
    The sound of practiced

    scales still echoes
    Through the silent house
    And the memory of a child

    Sitting under the piano
    Pumping the pedals
    Makes her smile

    Liked by 1 person

  3. […] for Phoenix Rising. Photo from CC0: State Library of Queensland, […]


  4. A Few Quick Thoughts About Rain

    a straight rain is rare.
    it usually angles
    like some great suspicion.

    pretends to be a woman burdened
    with a long neck, and then
    it waddles off to become

    a broad shallow puddle.
    and the dictionary states
    that rain is a noun but

    I think it’s more like a verb,
    all that falling and running
    and dropping and pitching,

    filling up rivers that were previously
    of an inadequate depth,
    but then there’s November rain

    which is more like a cello –
    music in gutters, base notes
    dropping into overflowing barrels,

    drip.drop.drip.drop.drip.drop –
    like pudding into a basin,
    and rain drowns the moon (must do,

    as I’ve never seen the moon swim,
    except once across a lake
    but I think I was dreaming

    because the shoreline swallowed
    it up like a cat lapping up milk).
    but mostly, rain never falls straight.


    Note: The accompanying photo and poem can be viewed at

    The first line “A straight rain is rare,” and “a woman with a long neck” are from the poem “Straight Rain is Rare” by Lyn Hejinian. Highlighted on 17 May/15 as the Poem of the Day on The Poetry Foundation.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Willam Preston


    A touch of lips
    encased in aura of perfume;
    a touch of lips
    to send my soul on soaring trips
    and loose a heart that has been bound.
    A whole world could be berthed around
    a touch of lips.
    (inspired by a line in Whittier’s Maud Miller



    Shadows fail to fall, not existing
    as if resisting the caress of light
    on a cool Kentucky night.
    There is no blue moon in sight.
    Not tonight;
    not any night.
    The shroud of evening
    brings darkness to its fruition.
    Such is the condition in the Bluegrass
    State. We shall wait until mourning
    to pay our respects.
    Dissect the day in your own way,
    but do not allow the moon to be sad.

    © Walter J Wojtanik, 2015

    Poem inspired by the line:

    “there’s no moon over kentucky tonight:” from Robert Lee Brewer’s poem “blue” from prompt #305 – Loss

    Liked by 1 person

  7. […] …“Hey, That’s MY line!” You are asked to chose a line or phrase from another poet/poem that you admire and use their words as the inspiration, title or first line for your poem. Be sure to credit the poet/poem from which you choose and honor your poetic compatriots. […]


  8. Nimbostratus Cardigan

    Gray day. Everything is gray. I watch, but nothing moves today.
    – Dr. Seuss

    The sky is infinite in its longing,
    full to bursting and ready
    to spill,
    and I
    am many-colored, somber
    -songing my way through
    clouds and shrouds of sky.

    I am hum and thrum and rum
    -bled thunder, the spattering
    of water
    that must
    have its own way. I am thread
    -ed by breeze and the trees that
    wear this ragged raincoat of gray.


    Liked by 1 person

  9. […] . written for phoenix rising. […]


  10. […] Phoenix Rising suggests we use the words of another poet as inspiration, title or first line.  I have gone further with this poem which was written a couple of years ago. […]


  11. Another Kind of Love – a sonata poem
    Posted on May 20, 2015 by

    I Allegro Amabile

    Shakespeare denies that love can be love
    which alters when it alteration finds.
    Experience informs me otherwise.
    That first euphoric flurry
    bears us onward in impetuosity
    from first encounter
    through exploration,
    exposed illusion.
    Ephemeral glory
    but love for all that.

    II Allegro Appassionato-Sostenuto-Tempo I

    Stormy transition morphs to humdrum
    climbs to summit and back again –
    swell to great with crashing chords
    in clashes of divergent moods;
    slides subtly through moderato
    via pause and repeat to gentle
    understanding. Calm acceptance
    rules resurgence of passion
    to tenderness and back again –
    another kind of love.

    III Andante con Moto – Allegro

    Another kind of love – despite of wrinkles
    this thy golden time –
    all passion not quite spent,
    progression from hectic,
    through stately to exciting
    and back again.
    Togetherness a bulwark
    against worldly pressure
    to ripening harvest of creative pleasure
    as time accelerates towards conclusion.
    Another kind of love.

    Based on Brahms Sonata Op.120 No.2 for clarinet and piano, the music is full of passion tempered with calm passages. My thoughts turned to marriage and its evolution. The first section quotes from Shakespeare, Sonnet CXVII, and the last from Sonnet III. Swell to Great is a coupler on a pipe organ, linking two big pipes to produce a thunderous sound. My poem echoes in part the cadence of the music, with rather too many mixed metaphors, but so be it.


  12. William Preston

    Earlier this week I offered a poem and a copup-0le of comments to others’. An “awaiting moderation” note appeared for each, and they were never posted.. What’s the problem?


  13. connielpeters

    “Goodbye, I did not get to say, that is my regret” from Julieann’s No Regret-Except


    My friend was of the positive faith persuasion.
    Convinced he’d live beyond the prognosis
    of prostrate cancer, he prayed, confessed and died.
    Goodbye, I did not get to say, that is my regret.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. From “Devotion”, by Robert Frost. First line, “The heart can think of no devotion”


    The heart can think of no devotion
    Greater than hearts entwined in emotion
    Day after day it may seem like repetition
    In truth it is two in a loving condition

    Liked by 2 people

  15. […] – RETURN OF THE PHOENIX – USE THEIR WORDS piece inspired by this quote:  “No one asked you to be happy. Get to […]


  16. Dandelion Medicine

    “No one asked you to be happy. Get to work.”― Colette

    Dandelion – spirit of rising – fearlessly surges upward – healing alchemy reaches into time with rich roots of goodness. Look to spheres of yellow vortices and visualize spirals of energy – adopt power into seat of solar plexus and breathe to embody lion’s roar. Vitality pours into helix from deep beneath ground through body to celestial plane – it surges with fire’s vigor – tiny sun churns and radiates with courage and self-worth. Gather in this galaxy of gold – fill soul to overflowing with power of Universe – embrace promise of all things possible. Hold in hand a single perfect bloom and see with an intentional heart the innumerable wishes it will bring. Have faith in dreams and they will come to fruition.

    Believe in oneself –
    confidence is within reach
    dig deep – find strong roots.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2015


  17. Yet I Survive

    Written for, and inspired by: Maya Angelou, “Still I Rise”

    All those black nights of despair
    crying, wishing I was not here,
    ruled by constant fear
    Yet I survive
    Yet I survive

    Felt no one could understand
    the panic that soaked every strand
    of hair, and commanded the upper hand
    Yet I survive
    Yet I survive

    Well I made up for that lost time,
    lived outside set rules, in my prime
    making love, drinking wine
    Yet I survive
    Yet I survive

    Saddled now with recurring disease
    has brought back those years of unease.
    I straddle a trapeze
    Yet I survive
    Yet I survive

    Liked by 2 people


    “Have faith in dreams and they will come to fruition.” ~Hannah Gosselin

    Dream, for dreams provide the visions of tomorrow.
    Borrow your nightly thoughts and ideas and see
    where you can go fueled by their fire.
    They desire to take flight through the night,
    second star on the right and straight on until morning.

    Then when you’ve awakened and taken all you can
    from your midnight imaginings, let them take wing,
    for flight was once a fantasy turned to reality.
    Life’s banality will flourish into all your dreams
    can become. If you can dream it, by all mean…do it!


  19. Juxtaposed Metamorphosis

    The cannons cease and the darkness falls,
    And those fluttering things are men.

    From Edgar A. Guest’s poem Easy Service

    The orchard is a palace where the apple trees are blooming
    Nature fulfills promises that only spring can keep
    Cold autumnal deathbeds after winter’s icy grooming
    Spawns a metamorphosis where fields of flowers sleep

    I stroll the early morning where the lilacs are adorning
    Twigs that seemed but lifeless sprigs before awakening
    Our oohs and aah and the applause of tongue-tied beggar-barons
    Contentment’s luxury is free and not a purchased Thing

    …And I can’t help but think of those who fled with almost nothing
    Save the clothes upon their backs and children in their arms
    Never mind that skies are kind and apple trees are blooming
    Evil has no season;bent on ugliness that harms

    Here among the song of birds and freedom bought with bodies
    Hope is juxtaposed like spring, with suffering and death
    And mingled with the virgin hues of greens and blues, gold, purple
    Runs the blood of fallen comrades yielding their last breath

    The cannons cease and the darkness falls and those fluttering things are men
    And boys and girls that will not see another spring again


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