Tag Archives: National Poetry Month

Day 5, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt for Friday was “roadside attraction,” and I was reminded of several posts from Luanne Castle’s Writer’s Site. Much of the language in this poem is borrowed from her.

In Search of Superbloom

Because it rained so much this winter, the wildflowers have gone
crazy. The roadside is abloom with a brilliant palette
of wildflowers, but we’re buzzing by on the freeway so I can’t take any

good pictures. The golden California poppies (the state flower)
and yellow flowers (don’t know their name as I couldn’t get
close) are stunning, and there are purples and whites mixed in

some places. These photos are crap due to being taken through
a car window, but they are all I have and at least I get to see
it with my eyes. We passed a line of cars at Lake Elsinore, stopped

to snap shots and just enjoy the beauty.

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pear blossoms

pear blossoms from Kentucky

Day 4, NaPoWriMo 2019

I way overthought Thursday’s 30/30 Poetry Facebook group prompt: 10 things

Lists that Failed to Yield a Poem

board games found at a thrift store
plants blooming in the yard
products no longer available in stores
varieties of tea in the pantry
items from the bottom of a purse
Trivial Pursuit answers (and questions)
expired medications in the bathroom cabinet
unread books on the shelves
what I like about you

Ten is a larger number than it appears, and it is not
so easy to make a poem about ten things
as one would think.

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Day 3, NaPoWriMo 2019

It has been a very busy week. I’ve made certain I had time to write, but posting did not always make the schedule.

30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt for Wednesday: a poem that asks and answers a question.

Recurring sadness

Today was clear and welcome warm
for early spring but tonight

temperatures will drop. My heart clenches
over the star magnolia, white fingers splayed

wide to the treacherous sun. Tomorrow
they will dangle limp and brown. Why

do magnolias always bloom too early?
My grandmother’s voice is soft

in memory: It’s not their fault
we invited them to live here.

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Day 2, NaPoWriMo 2019

This sprang from today’s 30/30 Poetry Facebook group prompt (up in the air) and a phone conversation with a friend.

Priorities on a breezy spring day

My friend’s pre-school grandson leaves
detailed lists of all the things he wants

for his birthday in voice messages
on her phone. Each recording begins

with him saying, “Beep!” because he knows
you leave your message after the beep

and he’s taking no chances. Today he gave
an exhaustive inventory of Pokemon

accessories, complete with color options
ranked by availability and preference, followed

by a coda request for a Charmander kite
that was so important it merited a separate

phone call and message all its own.

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Day 1, NaPoWriMo 2019

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That’s right, folks: we’ve traveled around the sun once more to that orbital point when poetry is celebrated nationwide — nay, across the very globe itself! — thanks to the wonders of the internet.

Today’s poem came out of a mash-up of prompts from the April issue of Diane Lockward’s very excellent Poetry Newsletter (local color) and the 30/30 Poetry Facebook group (streets at dawn).

Unnatural Succession

Autumn Ridge, Indian Summer, Winter Haven
Deer Crossing, Pheasant Run, Doe Meadow
Crimson Creek, Briar Patch, Willow Spring

streets in this subdivision invoke the seasons
as well as long-fled wildlife and landscape
features erased by bulldozers and backhoes

Aristocrat, Bradford Pear, October Glory,
Autumn Blaze, Red Sunset, Honeylocust,
Shademaster, Black Gum, Wild Fire, Red Rage

sanctioned cultivars replace native locust,
ash, chokecherry, serviceberry, hornbeam,
black walnut, yellowwood, sycamore

daffodils, reticulated iris, crocus, hellebores,
snowdrops, and pansies decorate curated beds
where once bloodroot and bluebells ran riot

but all is not lost: squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits
remain to be stalked by cats, chased by dogs,
and flattened by unflinching automobiles

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The 18th of NaPoMo 2018

This year I decided to take a more holistic approach to NaPoMo, because writing is only part of my work as a poet. On the days I haven’t drafted new poems, I’ve been revising existing poems, looking for places to send them, and READING lots and lots of amazing poetry from around the world.

Here are a couple I drafted from phrases in a post at the Natural Dreamwork blog. They are a hybrid of found poetry and erasure poetry.

Natural healing process

skin your knee, the body mobilizes
the wound closes, the bleeding stops, a scab forms
leukocytes engage and destroy
fibroblasts build new skin
eventually the scar may fade

***

Failed dream

it’s against the law to remove antlers
from a national park
the wounded elk might be easy to miss
buried in a narrative

dreams are not narratives
they are a movement of feelings
the experience of space, time, and feeling
aren’t really separable

an image appears and beckons
wants to be my mirror
that bloody wound is my medicine
to face it becomes a healing

story-making spins away
distances, fails to notice the image
making it about anything
but feelings

the medicine isn’t always delivered

 

Source material: http://thenaturaldream.com/dreams-are-not-narratives-they-are-a-movement-of-feelings/

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The 12th of NaPoMo 2018

I’ve been so busy writing and revising and READING wonderful poetry and posts about poetry that I’ve not done any posting of my own. Here is something I dashed off this morning between seeing the girl-child off to school and preparing for a 9:30 business meeting.

While you are away

eating avocado toast
alone is not the same:

there’s no one to give
the burnt pieces to

 

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National Poetry Month, again

‘Tis April, and the lively poems
Do rhyme and meter on the page:
All tipsy are the editors,
And poets hold the stage.

With no apologies whatsoever to Mr. Carroll and his Jabberwocky, I hereby dive into National Poetry Month and NaPoWriMo 2018.

I may or may not post every day, but I’ll be reading and writing and revising. The little parody above came to mind yesterday. Today’s found poem was inspired by a post from poet Lesley Wheeler:

Poetry Season

poetry as a dance with absence
all that white space, evocation, closing in
on loss, image and fragment

finding my way towards a poem I feel
I’m dancing with presence: stories written
everywhere I’m not skilled at reading

so I begin with my head full of names, partial
walks in the woods shaping, spending
time each day expanding

 

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Day 25, NaPoWriMo 2017

napo2017button1This week’s assignment for poetry class was to write a poem around the premise, “You crack me up with all this truth.” I riffed on the two words that jumped out at me, crack and truth.

Of truth and crack

1.

Truth is like crack: the pure stuff
will set you free
but the stuff that’s been cut
with this or that
will really mess you up.

2.

Truth cracks us over
the head like a two-by-four
– which is how the universe gets
our attention when metaphor
isn’t enough.

3.

Truth continues to seep through
the cracks no matter how well we think
we have insulated ourselves.

4.

Truth is the temblor that cracks
the foundation of every human
edifice.

5.

The china dolls say: If you tell us
the truth we may crack up; we prefer
the alternative.

Day 17, NaPoWriMo 2017

During discussion in a poetry class last week, someone posed the question, “Is ice cream a decision?” Rather than allow us to become completely sidetracked, the instructor wisely turned the question into a writing assignment. If you feel inspired to join the fun, please post your poem in the comments or link back to this post from your own blog so I can read it. 🙂

Is ice cream a decision?

It is an imperative, a command
that cannot be ignored, force
powerful beyond the imagination
of resistance, second
only perhaps to air.

Flavor is the only true decision.

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