#TLT - May 1, 2025
May your life have poetry and your poetry, life—
prompt word: rust
three line poetry
Inspired by the photo above, write something that moves us! #TLT
Additionally, First-time comments are held for moderation. Once approved, they post automatically.
keep it about the words
- Brevity is Key
- 10 words MAX per line
- 3 Lines
- No Titles
- Include your X (Twitter) handle
- DO NOT include the prompt word
when
A new prompt appears on the blog each Thursday at 12 am EDT.
where
Post your entries in the comment box of the current week's prompt.
why
Foster connections and healthy habits of creativity.
Three Line Thursday
What can you say, convey, or express in only three lines? Can you paint a visual picture with only words? Tell an entire story that begs to be read?
#TLT Use the hashtags and share on social! #comelaydownink
Use your imagination. Poetry, Haiku, Senryū, Free Verse, Prose, and Flash are all welcome. (Please do not graphically use excessive profanity or overtly disturbing mental images. Let’s use common sense.)
One word per line—fine. Ten words per line (max) works too. It counts as long as it fits in the comment box in three-line format. Simple, right?
We also nominate for awards, including Best of The Net. All submissions are considered for publication in our print mag. For more weekly inspiration, check out 100 Word Wednesday, too.
Read other entries and comment on others. Most importantly, this is a positive forum for feedback!
6 thoughts on “#TLT – May 1, 2025”
Art lingers in history’s seep, clothing heartbeats
with itself, staining a forgotten home,
risking its own erasure
Sorry, posted twice by accident. Thought the original hadn’t posted, then tried to remember what I’d written, to repost. 🫣
(The other version is the one that should be here)
Art lingers in the seep of history,
clothing heartbeats with itself, staining
a forgotten home, risking its own erasure.
Fe₂O₃.xH₂O + wrinkles don’t phase me
I’ll wear my second skin, so ornately
And red is my best color, lately
Decay is a bright
map, turning some surfaces
otherworldly orange.
Orange whispers on forgotten steel,
time’s slow kiss, a bleeding bloom—
the bridge between metal and memory.