Character

Posted byJJJ Interactive BooksPosted inPoemTags:, , , , , ,

Why must you stop and stare?
Your mouths agape at my front gate
Your heads shaking in distaste
Do you expect me to feel disgraced?
A spice of life is what I add
In a conformist neighborhood I find sad
So what if I paint my shutters pink
It adds some character, don’t you think?
The baby blue siding complementary 
A vibrant yellow front entry
Black and white checkerboard paths
Lead to colorful flowers in upcycled baths
(and toilets)
Yes, it’s quite the marvelous home
Simply ask my donsy of gnomes 

Photo credit: Victoria Baker
Donnybrook Visitor Centre

W3 Prompt #170: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Dennis, prompts us to: “Write a poem of 20 lines or fewer that imagines what is happening in the scene… You must use the word ‘donsy’ somewhere in your poem.”

Featured image assisted with Microsoft AI

Published by JJJ Interactive Books

Books, poetry and photography.

16 thoughts on “Character”

  1. Brilliant celebration of individuality Jennifer! Your vivid imagery brings this rainbow rebellion to life beautifully. The gnomes as witnesses add perfect whimsy. Conformity is overrated anyway – keep painting those shutters whatever colour makes you smile!

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  3. “Mess with me and you mess with them…”

    I’m jumping straight to the closing line: cross me, and you cross the donsy. I can see the protagonist on the verandah, eyeballing the would-be critic, and making a sweeping gesture across their gnomish enforcers while warning them off.

    I was delighted with the way the poem struts. It’s not just rhyme and rhythm (which are handled neatly), but the voice: proud, irreverent, and absolutely unbothered by suburban snobbery. I can see the house clearly: an explosion of unapologetic colour, kitsch made regal by absolute commitment. And those gnomes? Not mere ornaments. They’re the loyal tribunes of taste, guardians of joy in a world of standardised brick and tile, precisely manicured lawns and twitching curtains. Lines like “upcycled baths / (and toilets)” are spot on: funny but also grounded in an aesthetic many would sneer at while secretly admiring the guts it takes to live like that. “A spice of life is what I add” could be the poem’s manifesto.

    More than anything, it’s the tone I admire. The poem is assertive without being smug, playful but pointed. This isn’t a donsy as whimsical decoration, this is a donsy as guardians of irreverent legitimacy.

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