#scribtember

[campfire-poets]

Poetry Prompts - September 2025

Season of Reflection

Sept 1: First sign of fall. Sept 2: An unopened envelope. Sept 3: Something you lost. Sept 4: A moment of silence. Sept 5: The smell of rain. Sept 6: How you got your name. Sept 7: When the lights went out. Sept 8: A childhood object. Sept 9: A familiar scent. Sept 10: A real dream you remember. Sept 11: A night without stars. Sept 12: Looking in the mirror. Sept 13: Walking alone at dusk. Sept 14: A season you miss. Sept 15: A turning point. Sept 16: Time in nature. Sept 17: The last goodbye. Sept 18: A quiet moment. Sept 19: What lies beneath. Sept 20: A question you carry. Sept 21: What wasn’t said. Sept 22: This morning’s weather. Sept 23: What changed today. Sept 24: A place you remember. Sept 25: Something you overheard. Sept 26: A long wait. Sept 27: Coming home. Sept 28: Something unnoticed. Sept 29: Object you use every day. Sept 30: An ending you lived through.

Use tag Scribtember if you take part

[campfire-poets]

Scribtember - Day 3

"Something you lost"

For just one moment Though it was a short moment They were only mine Now they are so far I look back on our moment and mourn what we had I could not complain Their smile is always welcome It faces me not but I must be blithe yet I wish for their closeness In both mind and skin To have them once more To touch them within To laugh, to cry, to desire Always a good friend But only once my sweetheart I thought I could wait For the change they said was near and happen did change But we weren't to be and that's the way some love goes To let them be free Perhaps that is love To love without it returned Fleeting and stubborn

-Campfire-poets, 3rd September 2025

[campfire-poets]

Scribtember - Day 1

"The first sign of fall"

It was so warm yesterday evening Yet now the pavement shines with ice water And though the clear blue skies may be leaving And our days will get shorter and shorter Within our warm homes there will be laughter The children giggle and jump in puddles From their parents they get lots of cuddles White sun rises on freshly frozen dew Shivering friends wrapped tightly in their bundles And leaves will turn that goldish-brownish hue.

-Campfire-poets, 1st September 2025

Authors note: Not my best work but its not supposed to be, what matters is that I write everyday. Wish me luck

[reasonpeasonold]

Sometimes gestures and figures just happen

[reasonpeasonold]

Scribtember

So if you don’t wanna see an artist go through a mental breakdown via scribbled for the next month, you might wanna blacklist “scribtember” since that’s all I’ll be posting on tumblr this month.

If you want to join this, feel free to use the scribtember tag.  The idea is that we can post whatever the fuck we want to an art blog and that warm up doodling is an important process.  Just aimless scribbling can help.  Whether you’re in an artistic rut and having kind of a mental breakdown and artistic identity crisis like me or you think it’s a good exercise, have at it.