April is National Poetry Month! As you know, many poets participate by writing a poem a day throughout April. With that in mind, I thought you might enjoy a prompt for each day (you can do them all or pick and choose as you wish). In the list below, you’ll see a date and an inspiration word. Immediately under the date and word, you’ll find an example poem. The idea is to use the inspiration word and the example to "jump start" a poem of your own.
Begin by noting the inspiration word, and then read the example poem. (Remember that the example poem is just a sample; you'll want to give your poem it's own spin.) Next, do a short free write. Take a look at what you’ve written. Look for an idea, a line or a phrase, to develop into a poem. There’s one rule: you may use the inspiration word only once in your poem (twice if you use it in your title). Of course, if your muse is off on a three-martini lunch or vacationing in the south of France, you may just read and enjoy the poems without writing anything at all.
April 1 – Loveliness
April 2 – Light
April 3 – Nature
April 4 – Love
April 5 – Loss
April 6 – Letters
April 7 – Aging
April 8 – Morning
April 9 – Night
April 10 – Dancing
April 11 – Faith
April 12 – Choices
April 13 – Peace
April 14 – Freedom
April 15 – Darkness
April 16 – Wilderness
April 17 – Lost
April 18 – Beauty
April 19 – Forgetfulness
April 20 – Obstacles
April 21 – Death
April 22 – Despair
April 23 – Living
April 24 – Fear
April 25 – Seasons
April 26 – Sorrow
April 27 – Happiness
April 28 – Silence
April 29 – Animals
April 30 – Blessings
Be sure to visit Poets.org where you'll find a wealth of materials to help you celebrate poetry this month. You can read and listen to poems, download lesson plans, look for events in your area, and check out the National Poetry Map. You can also order copies of the poster seen in the illustration above.
If you'd like to listen to poems, there are over 400 audio clips available at http://www.poets.org/audio.php.
Happy Poetry Month, and happy writing!
Thank you, Adele! Once again you've given us amazing prompts!
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine how many hours you put into preparing and posting this blog! Thanks for your spirit of sharing. You must REALLY love poetry!
Jamie
My sincerest thanks, Jamie! You're one of this blog's most faithful followers, and I'm grateful.
ReplyDeleteHappy Poetry Month!
April 3, and the word for today is "Nature." That reminded me of Mary Oliver's nature poems.
ReplyDeleteHere are a couple of links to sites about Oliver's work (with samples of her poems) for other blog readers to enjoy.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/mary-oliver
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/mary-oliver
Thanks, Bob! Mary Oliver is THE contemporary nature poet.
ReplyDeleteWhat an embarrassment of riches! I'm going to save these for later, as I've already begun to fulfill my poem-a-day resolve by using some of your previously posted prompts.
ReplyDeleteJust want to tell you that I'm thoroughly enjoying them! I especially like the teaching component. Thanks for sharing your passion and your expertise.
Thank you, Violet, for your kind words! I'm so glad you're enjoying the prompts and finding them useful. I hope you'll be comfortable posting some of your poems!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the generous invitation to share, Adele! I'll tell you about yesterday's write. I am using your prompts numerically by day as you posted them. So yesterday's was prompt 7 - a form poem with a season, an image, another image, and a memory. It's here.
ReplyDeleteApril happens to be the month of my daughter's birthday. It is also the month when, a year before my daughter was born, I lost a pregnancy. Somehow those two events were already playing off each other in my mind, so your prompt gave me the perfect vehicle to write about them. This is yesterday's poem:
April 14, 2011
Spring. Pink blossoms
pile in boulevard drifts
float in rain rivers along gutters.
In the kitchen a cake
decorated with pastel eggs
and twenty-eight candles…
If, that April, twenty-nine years ago
I had been able to stop the cramps
the doctor to staunch the bleeding
the Doptone to hear
from its cold spot
on my burgeoning belly
a flutter of life
I wouldn’t have sobbed
through Easter empty-wombed
but we also wouldn’t be lighting
these candles today.
© 2011 by Violet Nesdoly
Hi Violet! Yes, the "What We Remember" prompt. I'm so happy that you're using the old prompts, and what a wonderful poem! The memory and your expression of it are very touching. Thank you so much for sharing. By the way, the invitation to share is a standing invitation :-))
ReplyDeleteI've been enjoying your blog for many months and only just gathered enough courage to post a poem/draft (anonymously, of course!).
ReplyDeleteThis is in response to today's inspiration word "Night."
____________
AS IF BY
As if by power of will, or
maybe choice, the long
day drifts into night –
birds on the power lines,
feathers folded. No one
looking in – the dark long,
deep as love, and me,
here, grateful to be in it.
J.S.
____________
To Violet: thanks for posting your poem. I really enjoyed it! Hope you'll post more.
Thanks, Adele, for a fantastic blog!
On the occasion of "NIght", here is a poem I wrote this morning inspired by Ted Kooser's "Flying at Night."
ReplyDeleteThanks for the great prompts, Adele.
ORIGINS
We all came from villages. Our
fathers plowed the earth
raised stock and prayed for rain.
At night, mother
blew out the lamp
and slipped out of our room.
Sleep healed our hurts,
revived the hope
for next morning.
All rights reserved
Basil Rouskas
Anonymous! So glad you're enjoying the blog and THANK YOU for posting your wonderful poem.
ReplyDeleteHi Basil!
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting your poem!
How about writing REDRAWING BORDERS BOOK TWO? This poem would be a great fit!
Thanks again.
This is my very short poem:
ReplyDeleteEstraggo da un mottetto di Montale l’osso.
Lo sai, debbo riperderti.
Debbo riperderti, e non posso
L' originale di E .Montale:
Lo sai: debbo riperderti e non posso.
Come un tiro aggiustato mi sommuove
ogni opera, ogni grido e anche lo spiro
salino che straripa
dai moli e fa l’oscura primavera
di Sottoripa.
Paese di ferrame e alberature
a selva nella polvere del vespro.
Un ronzìo lungo viene dall’aperto,
strazia com’unghia ai vetri. Cerco il segno
smarrito, il pegno solo ch’ebbi in grazia
da te.
E l’inferno è certo.
Thanks for your blog, Adele. I'd like to read something about italian poetry.
Thanks so much, Jago! I spent a month in Italy once and learned a little of the language. A beautiful country and a beautiful language!
ReplyDeleteHere's a site about Italian poetry that might interest you:
http://italy.poetryinternationalweb.org/piw_cms/cms/cms_module/index.php?obj_name=italy
April 9 prompt: Night
ReplyDelete“Above us stars. Beneath us, constellations . . . “
Ted Kooser, “Flying at Night”
NIGHT FLYER
Gail Fishman Gerwin
for Elinor
My first flight—from the old Newark Airport
in a blue and white tube with four engines,
propellers that could launch me toward
my parents, already in Miami Beach,
maybe dancing the rhumba, maybe dining
at Cooper’s Roumanian Restaurant, where
skirt steaks fell over the sides of dinner plates,
where chopped liver came with crispy morsels
of chicken fat, charred onions, not a statin in sight.
They’d driven south from Paterson the week
before, school still in session, leaving me
with Jack and Dotty, the next-door neighbors,
and Elinor, who followed me in age by a year.
The snows came that March week, two blizzards,
but Dotty’s freezer was full, pierogies from the
new Food Fair on Madison Avenue for lunch.
Oh yes—Jack wasn’t there, he was in the hospital,
recuperating from a heart attack, spurring Dotty
to put on snowshoes and tromp a dozen blocks
to visit him while Ellie and I, on a sudden
snow vacation, listened to records,
foraged for freezer fare.
The night after the second blizzard,
Dotty drove me to Newark for my
night flight—Eastern Airlines.
The porter took my Wedgewood blue
Amelia Earhart suitcase, and I climbed
the stairs toward the sky, not a jetway
in sight to shield me from the chill.
Once aloft, though I couldn’t see stars,
constellations, I could spy flames
from the propellers, which I pointed out
to the stewardess (not yet called a flight
attendant). No danger, she said, normal,
and I sat back, ready for adventure,
not aware that the arms awaiting me at the
Miami airport wouldn’t be there forever
for comfort, that my friend Ellie, my blizzard
compatriot, would die in her sleep too soon
after we’d renewed our friendship in the shadow
of our senior years, that the flame in the propeller
would return in the bright softness of my memories.
Gail, how wonderful that the Ted Kooser poem provided an epigraph for your beautiful memorial to Ellie. Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteGail, such an evocative poem.
ReplyDeleteBasil
Here's a poem on the occasion of today's prompt (Dancing)
DANCE WITH MOTHER IN APRIL
Each year in April I visit the safe deposit
to tidy up papers, family albums and other
mementos. The old photograph, curled some
more each year, but its yellow stains cannot
erase remembrances of our happy times together
before she lost her husband and dementia ravaged
her mind. I look at her dance, with arms stretched out –
a scarecrow keeping away bad luck. I hear
the clicks of her thumb on the index finger,
keeping the beat. And it is then that I imagine
her dance. Each April I see the sparkle of her
eyes, before I put her back in storage until
next year. On the way out, there is an upbeat tune
in my mind. Winter is behind and the tellers
ask me why I smile and move like a dancer.
By Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil! thanks for posting another poem! Your participation is much appreciated, and your poems are always very moving.
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy to see poets sharing here!
April Poetry Month Adele's Blog prompts
ReplyDeleteOn the occasion of today's prompt: FAITH
QUESTIONS OF FAITH
The ant that drags a grain,
three times its weight,
to the underground nest.
The African mother who
nurtures her newborn
in a milk-less breast.
The Tunisian street
vendor who loads
his cart with bananas
in the predawn hours
of a city that swelters
before the sun goes up.
Are these acts of faith;
are these acts of hope;
are these acts of courage?
Do we know?
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Another THANK YOU, Basil!
ReplyDeleteToday's Adele's prompt is CHOICES
ReplyDeleteFLOW ALONG THE RIVER
It started at the headwaters of this river when a
storm spiked the water from the clouds and the
rain forced a new river-bend to the right of the
boulders on the old glacier’s trail - before you and I
made this place our neighborhood. Some years
earlier an architect, who left Havana when the
revolution of 59 had no more use for his talents,
made his way north and taught design at Harvard,
Architecture at Penn, and built this house
as a wedding gift for one of his daughters.
In that home, through its eastern all-window-wall, we sit
and watch the sun glimmer in the winter mornings
when the naked branches of trees etch raw art on the
grey sky below the point where the blue heron sits alone
on the rocks and looks for his lost companion as long
as we ’ve known him. In this place, we watch the
sun shimmer off the river-bend in the winter months
and listen to his wail. We ponder if all these are
random choices or a series of events
that comes too close to fate.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil! WOW! This is gorgeous. Wonderful first stanza. (Please be sure to bring it to the workshop next week!)
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting. Your participation is always much appreciated. :-))
Thanks to all the poets who have posted their poems! It's great to see how well these prompts work.
ReplyDelete4/13/11
ReplyDeleteToday's prompt is PEACE
TRUCE
This day’s end is no longer time for war.
The soldiers rest their guns
to the side and
take pictures
out of their
wallets. A
harmonica
lulls the evening
into a slumber with
toy-soldier ballads.
No one on guard duty.
Tonight both sides make peace!
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Again, BASIL - a big THANK YOU!
ReplyDeleteIt is April 14, 2011 and Adele's prompt is FREEDOM
ReplyDeleteFREEDOM DREAM
I dream of three square suburban
conference halls in a corporate
park linked at the corners to
each other in a diagonal SW
to NE direction . An officer
dressed like a Vatican Swiss
guard checks my badge as I
move from hall to hall in
the Northeasterly direction.
I’ve just left the conference
in the first hall, hardly awake from
stale ideas, and in the second
hall someone accuses me –
"You are not a good follower," he says.
When I reach the third hall, I want out.
There is no control officer at the
gate. I step out and the tops of
the old trees form a safe blue-green web
over my edgy body. Fresh air fills my
lungs. I am in no need to conform,
No need to belong, I just want my freedom.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
It is April 15th and Adele's prompt is DARKNESS
ReplyDeleteANOTHER THEATRE DIES
The actress who plays “Day’s” role
will walk off the stage.
At that moment the lighting crew
will be at the switch of
the sunset-orange lights and
a stagehand will be ready to
to bring the worn-out curtain down.
This will be the last day of
“Day.” Then, soon at the end
of the street someone will turn off
the last lights on the marquee.
In our town, “Broadway”
will shut down.
Darkness will prevail.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil! Just a quick note to thank you again for sharing your poems!
ReplyDeleteApril 18th and Adele's prompt is WILDERNESS
ReplyDeleteSEASIDE WILDERNESS
I walk to the beach to be alone,
to listen to the water on the sandy cove
and quiet the mind before my sleep
- or am dreaming?
I am not alone. Young people finish
their music party and grow fainter.
The beach dances cheek to cheek
with the low clouds and the lemon
trees fill the moist air with citrus scent.
Cicadas dry run their music for
their overnight concert. Seagulls
and night owls fly north to
the hill where I first kissed you.
I think of dolphins and
other sea wilderness sleeping in water
lulled by the back and fro of the waves.
In the earth, deep below my feet,
ants turn their beds in their
underground bedrooms,
and I calm down the
butterflies in my body
when I think of you.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Today is April 17, 2011 and Adele's prompt is LOST
ReplyDeleteLOST SONNET
What if the rabbi gave
a sermon on someone’s
life and no family came
what if a child
longed for
a touch
on his cheeks
but no mother
responded.
What if I told you
without you
I’d be lost
but no one
heard me?
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Thank you, Adele for this month (and every month) of poetry on your blog! Such richness and wonderful sharing!
ReplyDeleteI've been enjoying the poems by Violet, JS, Jago, Gail, and Basil's daily posts.
I read a poem each day from the list you provide - especially liked April 7th. :-)
Many thanks to you and your blog poets!
Máire Ó Cathail (Ireland)
Today is April 18, 2011
ReplyDeleteAdele's prompt is BEAUTY
BEAUTY
It’s the body
of the finch
on the end branch
of the pine tree
outside my
full-height
window this
moment
it’s the altering arc
of the branch
when he flies
back and forth to the trunk
pine resin and
needles on his beak,
grain meal
in his mouth;
so much beauty in life this
Morning that I’d settle for less
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Jago,
ReplyDeleteOn April 8th you posted Montales' poem and your poem inspired by his.
I made an attempt to translate into English Montales' work. I would welcome your thoughts.
Lo sai: debbo riperderti e non posso.
Come un tiro aggiustato mi sommuove
ogni opera, ogni grido e anche lo spiro
salino che straripa
dai moli e fa l’oscura primavera
di Sottoripa.
Paese di ferrame e alberature
a selva nella polvere del vespro.
Un ronzìo lungo viene dall’aperto,
strazia com’unghia ai vetri. Cerco il segno
smarrito, il pegno solo ch’ebbi in grazia
da te.
E l’inferno è certo.
You know: I must lose you again and I can’t.
Like a forced trick I moved my bearings
all my work, all my cries and also the salty breath
that overflows from the docks and becomes
the dark spring of Sottoripa.
Countries of iron and trees
a forest in the dust of evening.
a lasting buzz comes from the open air,
like a shattering of a nails against the mirrors. I seek the lost dream, the promise that existed only because of you.
And hell is certain.
And Adele's prompt for April 19th is FORGETFULNESS.
ReplyDeleteA MAN’S FORGETFULNESS
Last night’s film much like
an abstract painting – of stone
walls in four brush strokes,
held by grey mortar,
an old two-story house
with weathered roof tiles,
fresh painted azure shutters over
a narrow cobblestone street,
where a woman in black pours
water in a pot of basilico.
And in the dreamy gaze of her
eyes, the woman main character
surprises her clueless husband
on their 15th anniversary with
a visit to their wedding night room
– numero siette on the 3rd floor –
in the main piazza of this Tuscany village.
Stay with me, you haven’t changed
she says to his unconvinced eyes.
Have I?
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Adele's prompt for April 20, 2011 is OBSTACLES
ReplyDeleteMOTIVATIONAL OBSTACLES
The obstacles to your
oomph for the future
are nerve endings in your
stomach, Virginia.
When you’ve drawn your life
as a horizontal line upon a paper
-beginning on left
end on the right -
and the actuary puts your
dot on that line. And you
look to the right and you
look to the left
and you ponder the best
use of your time: Make
peace with your left
or start new wars on the right?
And you select the only
choice that makes sense.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Today is April 21, 2011 and Adele's prompt is DEATH
ReplyDeleteTHE BOATMAN
And so it is, with him on the way to the river,
where the boatman will take him to the other
side. His gaze scans the home bank;
no one to wave his last goodbye. He thinks
of her. “Hold the boat, she must be here.”
The boatman looks away, not convinced.
“It’s time,” he says. The man gazes over
the valley, darker now, the sky low as night
sets in. The mooring rope undone. “It’s time.”
The man lowers his eyes looks at the boatman
then down at the river flow and the passage
to the other side. His bows his head. The
boatman knows the signal well. He pushes
slowly against the bank with his oar.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
April 22, 2010 and today's prompt: DESPAIR
ReplyDeleteDESPAIR
I am in Athens
on a delayed flight
from the states
to visit mother
who is ill.
I am late.
There are no taxis
at the airport.
I call my brother’s cell
but get his voice mail.
I’d ask someone
for a ride but the traffic’ s
stopped. I ponder
a police helicopter
but there is no officer.
And time’s running out
and I am more in despair.
I wake up. There is no traffic,
no airports, no people,
but tall trees and the river.
Mother left us long ago.
I look at her photograph
on the wall and smile at her.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Today's prompt is LIVING
ReplyDeleteLIVING
The state of Texas
executed its 200th
inmate
In Fukushima
400 thousand
people
will be evacuated
- except an old man
who has no place to go -
someone was
diagnosed with terminal
cancer this morning.
Otherwise, we all
go on with the
business of living.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
April 24, 2011 and Adele's prompt is FEAR
ReplyDeleteFEAR
Weeks into our separation, I got
it in an afternoon mail delivery
and my eyes - heat seeking missile - honed
into your handwriting amid the heaps of junk.
Stuck in hesitancy, my fingers
paralyzed with fear of how your words,
like bullets of a firing squad, would carry
out your decision. And I still remember
my swift brute force to
tear it open and end it all…
The lipstick mark on the white
paper said it all without a word.
“Come kiss me fool -- I
cannot stand it without you!”
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Today is April 25, 2011 and Adele's prompt is SEASONS
ReplyDeleteSUMMER AND WINTER
In early winter mornings
of my teen years
we walked to the train
station and said nothing
to each other until the ticket
agent asked us for money
and handed us two tickets
in his wool-gloved hands.
We sat in our train seats and
went back to our silence
until we got off to walk to the store
and roll up the shutters-
To earn another day’s wage.
Those early winter mornings
still claw under my skin and
scratch below like fingernails
screeching on the blackboard in
off key sounds that still freak my ears.
And so went on our relationship;
remote, duty-bound, cold and
boring, a series of Arctic
finger-numbing trips
to the train station
in early winter mornings.
And after all these years,
4 thousand miles apart,
-and you, father, departed -
I still tuck myself under
the covers late into the winter
mornings and play hide and seek
with wind-beaten branches of
the trees outside.
In the summers, I again,
become an early bird!
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil,
ReplyDeleteKudos and congrats to you for continuing to meet the "poem a day" challenge so faithfully and so eloquently!
Thanks Adele.
ReplyDeleteToday's prompt is SORROW
SORROWS IN THE FARMLANDS
I write to you
from a distant land
of vast cornfield
stretches that
grow six feet of corn
in eight weeks.
My neighbor, the farmer,
lost his wife in the spring
did what he could alone,
his sons both in the city, and then
threw himself back to work the land.
Her passing frames the years ahead,
shakes the pillars of
past emotions and uproots
his plants of hope
in an unsure future.
His sorrow turns him into
a cornfield hit by a storm
before its harvest -
half the scarecrows are
blown away
half still standing but unsure
of their role. And I ponder his
words yesterday; “In this town,
only the corn in the fields grows
faster than the fear of death.”
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
And Adele's prompt for Wednesday April 27, 2011 is HAPPINESS
ReplyDeleteHAPINESS IS WHEN
When you shield your eyes from the sun
to scan the open vista and all you see
is pure light over trees and ocean water;
and cup your hand to whisper
words to the ear next to you and
hear back a baby’s gibberish;
and smell hyacinths and wafts of orchids
that vie their ways to your nose against the scents
of tulips from the first floor window box;
and burry al dente semolina pasta in pesto of olive oil,
fresh-cut basilico and garlic cloves in heaps of grated
cheese with pine nuts next to a heavy glass of red brunello;
and let your fingers run over your
touchtone and deem everything good and
thank your parents for gifting you life with no conditions.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Hi Adele,
ReplyDeleteFantastic sharing. Thanks to all the poets and to Basil who seems to have written almost every day.
Jamie
Today's prompt is SILENCE
ReplyDeleteOFF SEASON SILENCE
I stand outside
the home we rented
on this Greek island in
my childhood summers.
The tourists are gone
and I am here to
reminisce the distant
years of family life in
this home. The door
opens and I can peek in
the empty kitchen. I hear
The fish sizzle in the pan, and
mother’s knife chopping carrots,
as father uncorks a bottle
Of red wine and fills
the heavy glasses.
He takes a sip cries a soft
sigh of pleasure and rustles
the newspaper. He then
delivers his daily commentary.
Mother calls out for us
to clean up and come to
eat. My brother turns
the water on… My wife
breaks the silence, startles
my daydreaming - Time to go
she says and as I turn to
leave, a lone seagull
senses my mood
and gives me
a cry as he flies off
over the water.
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil,
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry about the Blogger issue (error bX-edze7m) that you emailed me about. From what I read online there are a lot of people having the same problem. I sure hope Blogger gets it corrected soon!
Clever of you to post anonymously. I'm glad it worked. There are several blog readers who do that because they don't want to open Google accounts.
Thanks again for sticking with the daily prompts for National Poetry Month!
Today is April 29, 2011 and Adele's prompt is ANIMALS
ReplyDeleteOF SEAGULLS AND OTHER ANIMALS
It is the end of day.
In northern country
the light gets
weaker. The sun
cuts lower angles
into the lake reeds.
A seagull flies south.
I drive north. Who is
more alone?
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Tomorrow April 30, 2011 brings to a close the daily prompts for poems to celebrate POETRY MONTH. My thanks to Adele for the challenge to practice the craft daily but, also, for the wise selection of the sample poems. I personally found this exercise very helpful and I now have quite a few poems that I can rework. I will always remember APRIL OF 2011.
ReplyDeleteThe prompt for the last day is BLESSINGS
BLESSINGS
Blessed be the forest
the town declared a
state park.
Blessed be the hawk on
Black River that kept me
company the day I cut work.
Blessed be the parents
Who gave us life
without conditions.
Blessed be our
wisdom to accept
life as is,
and blessed be the
soft feet of the
grandchild
we hope you’ll give us.
Blessed be the roads
others traveled
to bring us here.
Blessed be those
who found cures
for things that ail us.
Blessed be the choir
now on the stage to sing
the ode to joy!
Basil Rouskas
All rights reserved
Basil!
ReplyDeleteKudos and congrats to you for taking up the challenge and successfully writing a poem each day of National Poetry Month! Such commitment is really wonderful.
Reading your poems has been a pleasure, and I thank you most sincerely for posting them to my blog!
I hope the blog will continue to challenge and inspire your poetry! (And, I hope Blogger will solve the posting problem very soon.)
My sincerest thanks to all of you who participated with comments and poems!
ReplyDeleteThis is a test to find out if Blogger has resolved the problem of posting via the Google account.
ReplyDeleteBasil Rouskas
Adele, from the looks of it they have resolved my posting problem
Hooray, Basil!
ReplyDelete