Tag Archives: Lexington Poetry Month

LexPoMo 2019, Day 1

Posted on June 1, 2019 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018After a month of life (college graduations, knee injury, cross-country travel) I’m back just in time for Lexington Poetry Month!

Appalachian pranayama

as night falls, the mingled exhalation of trees rises
from wooded slopes; misty breath of forest

collects in the creases between mountains, rolls
downhill to inundate farmsteads and towns,

a snowy river of quiescence faintly aglow
and blue in the deepening twilight

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month website: https://lexpomo.com/poem/appalachian-pranayama/)

central park

detail from a pedestal in Central Park, New York City

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Day 28, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 28, 2018 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018Late on the evening of the previous post, I ran afoul of some uneven sidewalk while out with the dog. I took a tumble, but thank the stars it was dark (no witnesses) and I got away with nothing more than a skinned knee and a sprained hand. I’ve been sidelined for almost two weeks because it was my dominant hand, but have gingerly started working back into more normal activity.

Last week I began attending a wonderful class on memoir as poetry. Not being able to write has been maddening, but today I was able to participate more fully and produced the following.

Summer vacation

The creek ran beside the yard
next door then under the road
into a wooded ravine we didn’t know
belonged to the Mathews.

We were frontiersmen, brigands, the Swiss
Family Robinson – fending for ourselves
with pocket knives and wits and the odd
piece of string, up and down the creek bed
every day until the mosquitoes
rose at dusk and drove us home.

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month web site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/summer-vacation/)

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Day 17, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 17, 2018 | 1 comment

lexpomo2018I think I overdid it yesterday (or maybe I spoke too soon about needing less cough medicine): the cough is back. It’s hard to go slow when you start feeling better after being under the weather for a while.

Listen to the forest

trees with roots entangled
like lovers, joined by soil
bacteria and mycorrhiza

leaves and branches arch
overhead, interlace, form
a bower, a sacred canopy

try to parse the language
of fungus and pheromone,
electron and ion channel

close your eyes and tune
your skin to the wordless
sea of conversation

 

Inspired by an article in the March 2018 issue of Smithsonian Magazine: “The Whispering of the Trees,” by Richard Grant.
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/the-whispering-trees-180968084/

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month web site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/listen-to-the-forest/)

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Day 16, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 16, 2018 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018Didn’t need quite as much cough medicine today. Progress is more gratifying when your expectations are low.

Like there’s no tomorrow

it’s in his heart
to be something more
speaking for us
twenty years later

so play it again
the war and the treaty
like water and wildfire
so young and so pure

that’s why we do music
for it to matter
and it brings her to tears
to know it still matters

and it brings her to tears
that it still matters

 

Found poetry from an interview heard on NPR.
https://www.npr.org/2018/06/16/620698921/summer-music-preview-the-war-and-treaty-debuts-healing-tide

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month web site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/like-theres-no-tomorrow/)

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Day 15, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 15, 2018 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018The meds are helping, but I think I need more naps and Dr. Who.

What we hold

In all probability, the assumption
of parents does not appear
to be mentioned.

There are, however, a series of facts
about the name on the lips
of an anonymous crowd.

There is no Joseph
until a decade later, drawn from
the reference to a suggestion.

This same theme believes
the genealogy, traces the line
of the most desperate moments.

We turn in search of ancestral
mothers, women known
for their stories.

 

This erasure poem uses text from chapter 14 of Unbelievable, by John Shelby Spong.

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month web site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/what-we-hold/)

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Day 14, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 14, 2018 | 1 comment

lexpomo2018I’ve not been posting nearly as much as I’ve been writing, and not writing nearly as much as I would like. Bronchitis and its attendant medications sometimes have that effect. Today I did nothing but nap, poetry, and Dr. Who, so I’m sure I’ve advanced my recovery exponentially.

Acceptance

I don’t know what moves
a poem, makes language in space
unfathomed–simple, open, powerful–
toward which I gravitate

common concern manifests
whatever feels honest and specific
to the thousands that receive
more than we publish

occasions resonate in particular
when the story seems surprised
it can love itself–
whatever that may be

This is an erasure poem derived from an interview at Frontier Poetry with Hannah Aizenman, poetry coordinator for The New Yorker. I recommend reading the entire interview, which may be found here:
https://www.frontierpoetry.com/2018/06/05/editors-talk-poetry-acceptances-hannah-aizenman/

(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month web site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/acceptance/)

 

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Day 6, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 6, 2018 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018I wrote two poems this morning, the second derived from the first. I chose the second to post on the LexPoMo web site; the first is also posted here, just for interest.

Perversity of memory

Last night I said something
in a dream, and some part of me
thought, Take note of that – it will make
a good poem tomorrow. But today I don’t recall
what I said, only that it was a fragment
of poetry I wanted to remember.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month website: https://lexpomo.com/poem/perversity-of-memory/

This is the poem that gave rise to the poem above.

Beginning to remember

lately I’ve been remembering dreams
again, but not really – remembering
that I had a dream worth remembering,
remembering that there was an image
or phrase or sequence of unfolding
action that I wanted to remember

even though I don’t remember the thing
itself, I feel strangely encouraged
that I remember there was something
in my dream worth remembering

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Day 5, LexPoMo 2018

Posted on June 5, 2018 | Leave a comment

lexpomo2018Yes, it’s Lexington Poetry Month again! So brace yourselves. 😉

I’m a bit behind because the first three days of June were taken up with my daughter’s high school graduation and attendant celebrations — hooray! Yesterday I wrote a poem, but then forgot to post it. So here’s to finally getting started!

Visual acuity

light in the eye transforms:
particle and wave fractured
into color, parsed into contour,
interpolated into movement

billions of data points selected
or discarded to create
patterns that give the riotous world
an appearance of order

(reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month site: https://lexpomo.com/poem/visual-acuity/)

* This poem was inspired by a cryptic note J.R.R. Tolkien tucked into an unfinished sketch on display in Oxford, England.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/may/31/drawn-into-tolkiens-world-exhibition

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Lagniappe: LexPoMo 2017

Posted on July 1, 2017 | Leave a comment

LexPoMo2017Thanks to a technical oversight, LexPoMo challenge participants get to post an extra poem! Hooray! When I got the news, I took a break from editing and tossed together a trifle from a list of prompts I had at hand.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Prompt burgoo

someone is chewing gum
behind the green door
extremely close and very loud

everyone switches bodies (even if
they hate each other/especially
if they hate each other)

no one knows if there will be life
after the end of bacon

 

 (For an entertaining sense of what burgoo means, click here and scroll down to the thesaurus section.)

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Day thirty poem: LexPoMo 2017

Posted on July 1, 2017 | Leave a comment

LexPoMo2017Lexington Poetry Month is officially over, but I tried to drag it out a tiny bit longer by waiting to post my final poem until today. I suppose this means I have to come up with a new graphic. Maybe I’ll paint something…

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

The end

until the fat lady sings
until the last dog is dead
until we all go home
until lightning strikes
until I say so
until it’s over

it ain’t over

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