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Day 5 | April Poetry Month Challenge | Houdini's Gift

WFSC Creative Writing Facilitators Mike Deregowski and Kelsey Hoople challenge you to participate in national poetry month. 1 poem a day for 30 days with no working ahead. 😉

Overall theme 'The Great Escape'.

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Day 5 | April 5th | Houdini's Gift

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5 commentaires

Lana O'Neill
Lana O'Neill
18 avr. 2020

Houdini’s Gift

There once was a man who loved stunts

Illusionist, Houdini was

He’d be handcuffed and bound

Under water and ground

Then escape, all for fame and applause

Lana O’Neill

April 18, 2020


Houdini’s Gift

Entertainment and illusion

A great infusion

Escaping death

We watch with bated breath

An artist with the escape

We sit mouths agape

Magic makes us ponder

Life’s incredible wonders

Feel like a child

The feeling is more than mild

His escapes give us lift

That was Houdini’s Gift

​​​​​​​​​​​©April 5, 2020

​​​​​​​​​​​J.E. McKnight


Linda Pedley
Linda Pedley
05 avr. 2020

5. Houdini's Gift

What deep-seated need lay within your very soul

that once a routine too common, others would be your goal?

The persistence of your character evident in succession

despite the consequences nor magic-revealed confession.

Wake of simplicity discarded in your past

efforts increased to dangerous to make the magic last.

We wonder of your strong desire to play within harm's way

what lesson does your entertainment leave with us today?

Perhaps, we must be confident in our skill and drive.

Move beyond the safety-net while embracing what keeps us alive.

Disregard the naysayers meant to discourage us, it seems,

Know your limits, strengthen beliefs, while chasing lifelong dreams.

(c) Linda J. Pedley 04-05-2020


05 avr. 2020

Houdini’s Gift


These things, these actions you took

Began as simple tricks, easy doings in the night.

One moment there, and the other gone, all done with a look,

No pleasure, no desire, if-as-might.

Like a carnival clown

You let these moments take you, beget and beguile you.

Over-and-done, in guilt and sorrow you were left to drown

In a room without a view.

It is true that we become what we do,

For I became that most-hated-carnival-crew

Of freaks, nightcrawlers and monsters we pretend

Not to exist, in a world without mend.

Becoming those things and creatures

That take your fancy; a dollar here and there, to laugh and point

At these things we do, disasters we nurture;

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