The idea that poetry comes from beyond
oneself is vital, as is the sense that one writes a poem in a condition that is
often associated with a spiritual position, i.e., the condition of humility.
One doesn't know what one's doing and is inspired in that respect. But it
doesn't mean one's completely inert, or passive; rather it's just about
allowing a poem to come from wherever it comes from and getting it into the
world
—Paul Muldoon, winner of the 2003 Pulitzer Prize
Here we are again! In just three
days’ time, we’ll begin National Poetry Month and a month-long celebration of
poetry.
Established by the Academy of
American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month begins on April 1st and runs
through April 30th. This
month-long celebration of poetry is held every April “to widen the attention of
individuals and the media to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex
poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and
concern.” During April, poets, poetry lovers, publishers, booksellers, literary
organizations, libraries, and schools throughout the US celebrate poetry.
One of the challenges of NPM is
to read and/or write a poem every day. So ... in the spirit of the observance,
as I’ve done for the past few years, I offer you inspiration words/phrases and
related poems for each of April’s thirty days.
This year, I’ve taken titles of
poems by some of my favorite poets and used them as inspiration words and phrases.
Links to the poems appear beneath. You may wish to read, write, or do both. If
you choose to write, be sure to extend the inspiration and travel away from the
example poems.
Tips:
1. Don’t feel compelled to match
your content to the examples’—in fact, do just the opposite and make your poems
as different as you possibly can. The inspiration titles and the example poems
are only intended to trigger some poetry-spark that’s unique to you, to guide
your thinking a little—don’t let them enter too deeply into your poems, don’t
let their content become your content.
2. Let your reactions to the
inspiration phrases and poems surprise you. Begin with no expectations, and let
your poems take you where they want to go.
3. Give the topics your own spin, twist and turn them, let the phrases trigger personal responses: pin down your ghosts, identify your
frailties, build bridges and cross rivers, take chances!
4. Keep in mind that writing a
poem a day doesn’t mean you have to “finish” each poem immediately. You can
write a draft each day and set your drafts aside to work on later.
5. Whatever you do this month, find some time (a little or a lot) to enjoy some poetry!
5. Whatever you do this month, find some time (a little or a lot) to enjoy some poetry!
As always, your
sharing is welcome,
so please be post
your thoughts and poems as comments!
Regular weekly
prompts will resume on May 3rd.
In the meantime, I
wish you a wonderful and poetry-filled April!
Happy National Poetry
Month!
Let the poeming
begin!
April 1
Inspiration: Taken for Granted
Example: “Taken for Granted” by Marie-Elizabeth Mali
April 2
Inspiration: Street Music
Example: “Street Music” by Robert Pinsky
April 3
Inspiration: And Soul
Example: “And Soul” by Eavan Boland
April 4
Inspiration: Reading Between the Lines
Example: “Reading Between the Lines” by Michael T. Young
April 5
Inspiration: The Summer Day
Example: “The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver
April 6
Inspiration: The Distances
Example: “The Distances” by Henry Rago
April 7
Inspiration: The Partial Explanation
Example: “The Partial Explanation” by Charles Simic
April 8
Inspiration: Anything Can Happen
Example: “Anything Can Happen” by Seamus Heaney
April 9
Inspiration: The Idea of Ancestry
Example: “The Idea of Ancestry” by Etheridge Knight
April 10
Inspiration: Here and Now
Example: “Here and Now” by Stephen Dunn
April 11
Inspiration: Why Regret?
Example: “Why Regret” by Galway Kinnell
April 12
Inspiration: Five Flights Up
Example: “Five Flights Up” by Elizabeth Bishop
April 13
Inspiration: Blueberry
Example: “Blueberry” by Diane Lockward
April 14
Inspiration: Day of Grief
Example: “Day Of Grief” by Gerald Stern
April 15
Inspiration: The Embrace
Example: “The Embrace” by Mark Doty
April 16
Inspiration: What The Living Do
Example: “What The Living Do” by Marie Howe
April 17
Inspiration: The Strange House of the Past
Example: “The Strange House of the Past” by Maria Mazziotti
Gillan
April 18
Inspiration: Suffering
Example: “Suffering” by Joe Weil
April 19
Inspiration: One of the Lives
Example: “One of the Lives” by W. S. Merwin
April 20
Inspiration: I Am Not Yours
Example: “I Am Not Yours” by Sara Teasdale
April 21
Inspiration: The Road Not Taken
Example: “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost
April 22
Inspiration: All You Did
Example: “All You Did” by Kay Ryan
April 23
Inspiration: A Blessing
Example: “A Blessing” by James Wright
April 24
Inspiration: If You Forget Me
Example: “If You Forget Me” by Pablo Neruda
April 25
Inspiration: Where the Sidewalk Ends
Example: “Where the Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein
April 26
Inspiration: When You Are old
Example: “When You Are Old” by William Butler Yeats
April 27
Inspiration: Some Days
Example: “Some Days” by Billy Collins
April 28
Inspiration: Unfolded Out of the Folds
Example: “Unfolded Out of the Folds” by Walt Whitman
April 29
Inspiration: A Dream Within A Dream
Example: A Dream Within A Dream” by Edgar Allan Poe
April 30
Inspiration: Kindness
Example: “Kindness” by Naomi Shihab Nye
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23309
P.S. If you missed the National Poetry Month blog prompts for 2013 or 2012, you can check them out by clicking on the links below.
National Poetry Month 2013
National Poetry Month 2012
P.S. If you missed the National Poetry Month blog prompts for 2013 or 2012, you can check them out by clicking on the links below.
National Poetry Month 2013
National Poetry Month 2012
I so look forward to your 30 prompts during poetry month! Part of the fun is just reading the inspiration poems. Often, the poem you offer resonates for me, and I look for other poems by the same poet. It's lovely to relax with the example poems, to read them in and out of order, and to see where they lead. No pressure. I also really enjoy the poems that are posted as comments. I hope Basil R. does a poem a day again this year.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Jamie! I'm really happy to know that you enjoy Poetry Month here on the blog! (I hope Basil treats us to some of his poems again this year too.)
DeleteThanks for the kind words. It is always a good feeling for a writer to be welcomed in his/her community of readers! This year some projects are interfering with the commitment to do a poem a day, but I always read the sample poems and the comments and feel part of this terrific place that Adele has created on the blog-space.
DeleteMaybe you'll be able to share a few with us, I hope, Basil!
DeleteAdele, I'm new to your blog and so grateful that you included the links for the 2012 and 2013 poetry month prompts. Looks like a wealth of inspiration and really good reading! Thanks so much!
ReplyDeleteWelcome to The Music In It, Kathy, and thanks so much for your kind comment!
DeleteThis is really great for both poets and readers alike. I like the mix of poets represented in the inspiration poems.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Bob!
DeleteTaken For Granted
ReplyDeletewash the dishes
make the beds
dust and sweep
sweep and weep
weep for carefree days
of playing outside till dark
of being care less
no, you can't eat off my floor!
why would you want to?
the unseen unknown
come into the light
dry your tears
wipe your face
all is well
continue on your way
never mind
smile
smile in your soul
smile in your heart
smile
any way
Smashing, Risa (as we say here in England)! You go from the mundane drudgery of chores, to a sense of loss, to a message of hope and encouragement. Well done!
DeleteOh my goodness! I seem to have missed this one. It's so uplifting and filled with encouragement. Thanks, Risa, for sharing with us.
DeleteRisa,
ReplyDeleteWonderful, crisp poem but it says so much….
Basil
Today's prompt poem is STREET MUSIC. It transported me into a different era and a different kind of music:
ReplyDeleteWAR MUSIC
Petula Clark was wrong!
You did not need to go
downtown to hear the
street music in the city
I grew up. The milkman’s
delivery cart woke you up —
clickety clack of his metal
wheels on the pot holes
before sunrise. Hunched, kerchieved
farming women peddled wild greens
from the north mountains
in accented cries repeating
at each new block. The German guard
at the Kommandantur building, next door,
was silent. The happiest music,
was when resistance
fighters’ shells flew past our home
and landed on his building.
After the curfew silence fell in the streets,
mother hummed a new freedom song.
HOORAY! Basil is back! A lovely poem that evokes freedom in a beautiful and personal way (I can almost hear your mother humming).
DeleteLovely, Basil! Thanks so much for sharing, It's great to see you back this year. I hope you enjoy the inspiration ideas, poems, and your own writing!
DeleteThanks! And welcome back, Basil! Nice post!!!!!
ReplyDeleteAnother great set of inspirations for National Poetry Month! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI'm not a Paul Muldoon fan for the most part, but I did enjoy the quote very much.
street music
ReplyDeletethumping jumping waves
of rap music
blasting our of car raidos
yap yap yapping dogs
horns
and
screeching tires rip the air
where
where am I?
mid-day
and
the noisy world
rushes full speed ahead
repetitiously on a daily basis
while white noise hums a constant chorus
and
birds sit on the wire
like notes on sheet music
it's the symphony of life
in full spectrum rainbow color coordinated
multi-media
Well done, Risa! Thanks so much for sharing with us!
DeleteI think I'm going to have a hard time keeping up! Lovely, Risa! Keep them coming.
DeleteAnd Soul
ReplyDeleteeverybody's got soul
all God's children
got soul
all the little children
all the animals
everyone's got
soul
childhood chants
soul
soul
everybody's got
soul
so they'll say
know
they'll know
if you have
soul
or no...
soul
believe you have it!
as in ole chris kringle
and jingle
jingle jingle
jingle
Reading Between the Lines
ReplyDeleteit's the empty spaces
between
not what's said
but
what is unsaid
white chalk on black board
black ink on white paper
it's the white
it's the black
it all depends on
your perspective
Risa,
DeleteI like your technique (contrast of colors, and things being said or unsaid) of highlighting why everything is relative. The title could not have been better.
Basil
thank you Basil!
DeleteWell done, Risa! Basil makes a great point about the contrast of colors and things said of left unsaid.
DeleteInspired by Mary Oliver's THE SUMMER DAY
ReplyDeleteand a recent announcement by a team of Cosmology scientists who worked on the South Pole.
WHAT IS IT YOU PLAN TO DO
(After Mary Oliver’s poem THE SUMMER DAY)
AND
The March 2014 announcement that BICEP2, a team of scientists who lived 3 years on the South Pole, managed to measure gravitational waves, first such measurement in the annals of Cosmology)
WHAT IS IT YOU PLAN TO DO
I hope you don’t take seriously this lofty
question. Call it what it is — a poetic
device to set realistic goals copied
from self-help books for readers
best summed up as “tomorrow-addicts.”
Because for me, I plan to circle the earth
in a space capsule and gaze over hazy
meadows, mourning animals going extinct.
I will then go to the South Pole
where scientists spent 3 years in thin air
distortions-free telescope installations
to catch the fading light from the first
explosion that set the universe
expanding after the big bang.
They claim they’ll make connections
between quantum mechanics and
gravitational waves, matters still hanging
loose since Einstein’s times.
They say they’ll let me look through
their telescopes and educate me
why physics will never be the same;
which doesn’t mean a hill of beans
to my dog who sits across, spread
on my carpet and happy to be with me.
And the pulsating waves, Higgs bosons,
variable masses, fusions and fissions
all boil down to just a daily life moment
in my living room until the timer
switches off the light. I tuck under
my blanket and go to sleep. Tomorrow,
another day. The sun will rise again.
My dog will follow me to his feeding dish.
Brilliant, Basil! Thanks so much for sharing. It's wonderful to see where the inspiration idea and poem have lead you! Great juxtapositions—the technical jargon and the faithful dog (and a great dismount that gives the whole "idea" perspective)!
DeleteThank you Adele.
DeleteToday's prompt is about DISTANCES…
DeleteTHE DISTANCE TO GO HOME
From the mountain ridges
to the delta it took
a river's journey
But to go home to the mountains
I only need time for the sun
and the cloud
to do their work.
Basil Rouskas
April 2014
I really love the conciseness of your distances poem, Basil. What a beautiful way to bring the poem to closure: "But to go home to the mountains / I only need time for the sun and the cloud / to do their work."
DeleteNote: I think you posted this poem as a reply to your previous comment. Be sure to post as a new comment not related to a previous one to be sure it doesn't get missed.
Thanks for your words and the technical point. I am still learning the system
DeleteB
I'm still learning the technical things myself! Thanks again for being such an important part of our Poetry Month journey here on the blog! You've shared so much with us all for the past three years!
DeleteI love your poem, Basil! "tomorrow addicts!" indeed and after you fly around quantuming, your dog will follow you to the feeding dish! Nice!!!!
DeleteBasil, I'm having a hard time keeping up but please know that I'm reading your poems and loving them. Things have gotten quite busy at work, and I'm exhausted, but I thank you for sharing and look forward to more!
DeleteWonderful imagery in this one!
DeleteDistances
ReplyDeletemiles
minutes
space
time
stop watch
ing
the clock
not matter
you are
always
part of me
of the universe
no distance
truly exists
What an unexpected dismount… No distance/truly exists!
DeleteGood stuff.
B.
Ditto to Basil's comment!
DeleteRisa, your poems prove that so often less is more. You are able to draw us in with your careful word choices while teaching us strong lessons.
DeleteGreat point, Gail Fishman Gerwin -- less is often more, and the lessons in Risa's poems are always highlighted by the poems' brevity.
DeleteThanks! I so appreciate your comments. Today, I was thinking how funny life is! When I was in grade school, one report card said something to the effect that I was a chatterbox and tended to talk toooo much.
DeleteSimic's small luncheonette scene transports me to places where I have eaten alone in the heart of winter away from home. A crackling fire in the dining room, a glass of red wine and a steaming plate in front of me, as I miss a loved one…Other times I am a field agent in snowy southern Vermont. On a trip back to Greece my wife and I enjoy the hospitality of a restaurant in a Peloponesian winter just by ourselves. The fire rages, to wind howls and the hail starts to fall. Yet, we are taken care of and we have a room reserved in the hotel upstairs….
ReplyDeleteThis poem is embroidered with different mood, yet the roadside restaurant theme returns…
THE ROADSIDE RESTAURANT
We buried mother in the
mountain village cemetery
next to our father.
The monk on sabbatical
(taking care of his sick mother
in winters) and the priest's son
dug hard through the frost to
carve her a resting home in the
black earth.
Then, you drove back to Athens
and we descended the village road's
tight switch backs to the plains
without saying a word.
Before the highway, we
stopped at the family owned
roadside-restaurant where
she fed us on the last day of
summer vacations.
The chef-owner, an older man
of street savvy and natural wisdom
brought our food to the table
but never asked about her.
Bravo once again, Basil! You weave detail and emotion beautifully into a fabric that speaks to your readers of the past and moments with which we can all identify even if our own details are different.
DeleteSuch striking imagery -- the monk and the priest's son, the village road (tight switch backs) and the highway. The underlying silence in this poem is one of its strong qualities.
DeleteIn your poetry blog community, Adele, I feel visible. Both, when the comments offered match my intention, or suggest a special angle not originally aimed at.
DeleteOf course the relationships that evolve is the continuing dividend.
Thank you both,
Basil
PS Jamie, hope you are well on the other side of the ocean…so far and yet so close.
I'm glad you're comfortable here, Basil! I know the blog readers appreciate your work and your spirit!
DeleteBasil, you brought so much to this poem. You took us to Greece in winter (we were there when it was blistering hot) and gave us the contrast of seasons: summer warmth when you ate with joy, winter cold when your heart was heavy. You left us wondering if the owner didn't mention your mother in order to spare you or out of apathy. I lean toward the former, owing to his "natural wisdom." What a strong finish to a poem that tells so much about family and ritual.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind words, Gail. I hope you will share some of your poems with this blog this April.
ReplyDeleteBasil
Famly history, emigrations, and unanswered questions are all part of the ancestral tapestries we weave both daily and across centuries — Choices we make, challenges we face, success and knock-downs. This is what came to mind when I read Etheridge Knight's poem.
ReplyDeleteREWRITING BOOKS
In "The Parthenon Enigma,"
Joan Breton Connelly rewrites
history, challenges dogmas
and reinterprets the frieze of
the temple not as a
Athenian procession
but a sacrifice rite
of King Erechtheus'
three daughters
in exchange for
the city's survival
from advancing armies.
And in my conversations
with relatives on three continents
I rewrite myths, ask questions
and put pieces together —
about uncle Nick
who ran a grocery
store in Buenos Aires,
my brother who married
in a Greek Orthodox
Cathedral in Bujumbura
Burundi, my father (the
teenage shepherd)
who fought on Asian shores
before repatriation into
crews laying rail before
he opened his business in Athens.
All these, fragments of a roving nation
of which whether I accept it or not
I am a part.
Wonderful, Basil! You take us on a journey through your personal "Motherland of the spirit" and remind us that we're all part of the emotional and spiritual fragments of our own, and one another's, histories.
DeleteWonderful, Basil! Your family history has given you a rich and poignant sourcebook for your poems. Thanks, as always, for sharing with us.
DeleteHow nicely you tie the threads!
DeleteThanks, Jamie.
DeleteB.
Thanks Risa
DeleteB
I read Kinnell's poem as an ode to miraculous things around us; accepting one's environment and "skin" as they are.
ReplyDeleteMy poem went into the opposite direction: Regret about things that I still don't accept but I cannot change.
REGRETS
I still remember
the cause
and the words of
our argument
when you
called me
a piece of cat’s
dropping
and stormed
out of the room.
Not long after
I came to America
a stroke paralyzed
your mouth
and on my visits we
could no longer talk like
father and son. I, about the
the anger I caused you;
and you about
your regrets
for what you’ d
called me.
Basil, this is really wonderful. I agree with Adele that you've captured a universal feeling of regret and "what if." Sometimes those little moments become big moments that come back again and again to haunt us.
DeleteI like this poem, Basil, for all the reasons cited by Adele and Jamie and just because it's a damn good poem with a lot to say to a lot of people. I found it both genuine and consoling. I hope it brought you some sense of peace to write and post it.
DeleteWe all have similar things that we regret, Basil, which makes your poem especially universal and especially meaningful. The details may be different, but the feelings of regret and the "I-wish-I-could-take-that-back" feeling are the same for so many of us.
DeleteI always say that one of poetry's most important roles is to show us that we're not alone. You do that so often in your poems! Thank you so much for sharing with us.
The Partial Explanation
ReplyDeleteI can't live this way anynore
and
I won't go back to the NE
too much snow
too cold
too congested
No
That's not the real reason
it's the shame
an inherited trait
a feeling tone
distorting vibrations
coloring all the bright
variations with shades of gray
a blanket of shame
emanating suffocating memories
of limitations, humiliations, deprivations
No
I won't live this way
anymore
Very strong expression of feelings! Thanks for sharing this, Risa!
DeleteThanks, Risa! This is great!
DeleteRisa,
DeleteThe voice of confidence, the language of commitment, the firm stance of a direction you have chosen for yourself and for your life.
Nice work!
Basil
Anything Can Happen
ReplyDeletequantum physics
nothing static
touch
and poof
everything changes
dynamic
imploding
dynamic
exploding
anything can happen
I love the staccato effect you achieve through the short lines and no capitalization or punctuation. Well done!
DeleteI agree with Adele -- great sound effect!
DeleteAncestry
ReplyDeletefollow the silk road
on horse back
with my dark-skinned
oriental eyed
high-bridged nose ancestors
go east or west
from Middle Asia
for years, I searched for the answers to the questions:
who are you?
what are you?
and finally
Erika!
Eurasian!
an American from the East
from far away and long ago
That works!
"That works" and so does the poem! The sense of discovery goes beyond the obvious answer and moves toward self-acceptance.
DeleteWell written, Risa! Thanks for sharing with us!
DeleteI LOVE this blog! There's always so much happening here by way of inspiration and writing challenges. Thank you! I'm a rank amateur but I love poetry and write a little bit from time to time. I'm not brave enough to post my name, but here's a little poem based on today's inspiration:
ReplyDeleteApril 15
Inspiration: The Embrace
Example: “The Embrace” by Mark Doty
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15634
I DON'T CHALLENGE
I don't challenge that you're gone,
that I'll never see you again except
perhaps in dreams that comfort and
frighten at the same time. I don't
challenge this loss and what it means,
how it changes everything: even the
sky's shape and the brightness of the
stars—how it changes what I never
wanted to know and what I know ...
what I know ...
How lovely, Anonymous! I think we can all identify with that feeling of loss and change. You're definitely not a "rank amateur." Thanks so much for sharing with us!
DeleteThis is a wonderful poem, Anonymous! You've captured the essence of grief perfectly. (You're not an amateur!)
DeleteGrief
ReplyDeleteStill
warm
The vet took him
Puddy
My darling Puddy
I see him everywhere
in all orange cats
Oh, so sad, Risa! I've been there and know that feeling. I hope warm memories bring you comfort.
DeleteI know that feeling, Risa, and how much it hurts. I hope writing the poem helped a little. Sometimes when there are "no words," a poem makes the needed expression happen.
DeleteThe Embrace
ReplyDeleteArms
They say
The only ones we need are already attached
They say
and
hugs
There's not many things as satisfying
as a hug
so
Come
Come hug me
I'll mold myself to your body
Feel your heat beat next to mine
Wrap my arms around your shoulders
and
Count myself blessed
Nothing better than a good, old-fashioned hug! Hope you gets lots of them!
DeleteDitto to jamie's comment! Nothing better than a hug! Thanks for sharing.
DeleteWhat the Living Do
ReplyDeleteOh, the artist's life!
Creating
Living outside the box
What fun
What joy
Wait a minute!
It's really not what you think
There're still bills to be paid
laundry to be done
groceries to be bought
The art
is really in the living
in the small acts
of the everyday
Yes, so true -- the art (and joy) of living IS in small, everyday things. Thanks, Risa, for this reminder.
DeleteWho was it who said that God is in the details? I believe that—the little everyday details of our lives are what our lives are about. Your poem expresses exactly that!
Delete: ) You are all so encouraging! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteMaria Mazzioti Gillan's poem (our prompt for tomorrow) inspired me to write about the first house we lived in Athens:
ReplyDeleteFIRST HOUSE
Condemned from occupancy
in a neighborhood bombed
by the guerrilla artillery in the war
she still stands - a two story stucco
our home during the war. Inheritance
issues hung in Athens courts
keep the spider webs in
and the bulldozers out.
I visit when I am back
in the homeland. I turn the car
into the narrow street and
struggle keeping my eyes dry.
I turn on the windshield
wipers and take a glance
at her two-story tired frame
next to the Megalophon family house.
One of the brothers became
a doctor - that much I remember.
Their basement tenant
the ghost of a lonely slow woman
in her fifties approaches me
with half the neighborhood cats
trailing her in the back yard.
A dying palm tree still upright,
— its trunk forms an exclamation point
with the roof shed hole — and
documents war bombings on the German
Kommandantur building next door.
I park the rental car
and walk the narrow
street. On the second floor
the gendarme (our tenant)
still plays the violin.
Mrs. K’s dogs know I am not the
Ulysses they expect. They growl
at me, in anger and disappointment.
Out on the street, mother is running
after my classmates who threw rocks and
spat at me in envy of my best
grades in class. I wait.
When she returns we go
upstairs to pack daddy’s
lunch. "He must be hungry."
she says.
Beautiful, Basil! The visual aspect is so strong—I felt as if I were visiting that house myself. I can see the lady with the cats trailing after her, I can see your mom—I see my own first home, and my eyes aren't dry! Thank you for sharing this!
DeleteThis is truly beautiful, Basil! As Adele wrote, I can see the house and the people who lived there so clearly. The visual quality of the poem is really outstanding. Your sense of loss, and perhaps even a certain feeling of displacement, is felt as well. Our old homes never leave us, do they?
DeleteNice, Basil! Very nice!
DeleteThe Strange House of the Past
DeleteThat strange house of the past
Don't open it!
Unless
unless
You really want to reveal
unearth
discover
the secrets behind all those stories
you've been told
and
believed all your life
Release yourself
from these identifiers
Remember the strange house of the past
But
move forward
facing the future
one step at a time
Actually
fearlessly
running full speed ahead is even better!
Wonderful, Risa! Release from the identifiers—great phrase. Thanks so much for sharing with us.
DeleteRisa,
DeleteAnd everybody knows the strange house has SECRETS. Besides the motivational aspect, your poem has a mysterious mood that intrigues me.
Basil
Today's prompt is about suffering, so here is another glimpse of it…
ReplyDeleteTHE KEYS OF THE WARDEN
There is no hope
no redemption
but iron balls
and chains and
the keys of the warden.
oh dear, oh dear!
DeleteThis quote seems more about hopelessness and despair. I'm working on "suffering." Hmm. That sounds funny, no:? yes?
A very interesting take on the "inspiration," Basil! I really like the conciseness and the dismount. Thanks for sharing.
DeleteYes, that sounds funny. "working on suffering…"
DeleteThere was a genre of folk music in Greece that peaked in the 20's. The name was rebetica. They were sung by an underclass who did hashish and were fiercely anti-authority. They actually loved to suffer. They got their pain out of thir system by singing about their suffering. Actually, my poem above resonates their "sound"
Basil
How interesting!
DeleteVery interesting response to the inspiration, Basil! There's a sense of resignation as well as of mystery -- is your "jail" imagery an extended metaphor for something else? I suppose that our individual interpretations are what makes poetry an eternally personal experience.
DeleteSuffering
ReplyDeleteIf you're the kind of person
who likes being in charge
take heart
You are in charge
of your own happiness
as well as your own suffering
What power!
Great insight!
DeleteInsightful and instructional at the same time!
Deletepretty nice blog, following :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Skyline Spirit! Nice to have you following!
DeleteI am not Yours
ReplyDeleteI am not yours
I am not even mine
My parents gave this body
to me
for a while
When it's warranty has run out
I hope to be retired
But not for a long, long time! You have a lot more poetry to write before "retirement."
DeleteDitto to Jamie's comment!
DeleteOne of the Lives
ReplyDeleteLike the legendary cat
I have at least nine lives
In one of those
I was possessed
Swept along with other unruly youth
and
the world changed
Great last line, Risa! Just the right kind of "punch."
DeleteLove your cat comparison (knowing how much you love cats)! And ... the wisdom of the way the world changes, which is does for everyone.
DeleteAll You Did
ReplyDeleteI can only be grateful
for all the good
and bad
you've done
I'm alive and well
Ah, could be addressed to many people in many lives ... it's good to remain grateful ...
DeleteI especially like the way you've incorporated a spirit of forgiveness, implicit in your gratitude. To be grateful and forgiving isn't always easy, but to achieve them in their fullness makes life so much more beautiful.
DeleteThe Road Not Taken
ReplyDeleteWisdom is realized
by making mistakes
Making choices
Taking one road and not another
Going here instead of there
Regret not
It all seems to work out
If not,
there is reincarnation
What a surprising dismount…
DeleteNice
Basil
Surprising, yes—turns the poem in another direction.
DeleteVery surprising ending!
DeleteA Blessing
ReplyDeleteEven without a phone
our ears hear each other
Even though separated
our hearts beat together
our mind's eye sees
Connected
through space and time
we are never really apart
Soul mates ...
DeleteWhat a wonderful oneness to share!
DeleteKay Ryan's lines:
ReplyDeleteAll you did
was walk into a room
triggered the following:
ROOM PRESENCE
Years ago
they told him
“something
happened” when
he entered the room
But that was then;
now they will not tell
him, what changed—
The room or himself?
He has to figure
out on his own
they both have!
Very powerful, Basil! An aura of mystery inherent in "something happened" with no explanation. Great stuff! (I'm wondering if you even need the last three lines????)
DeleteFor some reason, Jamie, the REPLY button is not working.
ReplyDeleteSo, here is the poem without the last three lines… Thanks.
Basil
ROOM PRESENCE
Years ago
they told him
“something
happened” when
he entered the room
But that was then;
now they will not tell
him, what changed—
The room or himself?
Hi Basil! This is really great. I especially like the new line breaks that create pauses in just the right places -- and leaving the reader with a question works so well.
DeleteI couldn't agree with Jamie more in regard to leaving out the last lines and the power you achieve through the revised line breaks. Ah, the joys of tweaking and refining!
DeleteI like this version better too
DeleteThere is a Yiddish word my Jewish wife is using for "soulmate" — bashert!
ReplyDeleteTuck the word away for possible use in a poem someday!
DeleteI think this is a Hebrew word and part of an expression in Yiddish: what is ordained by G'd; it goes roughly something like this: voos isht b'shert in Yiddish
ReplyDeleteInteresting, Basil and Risa! I found this online:
DeleteBashert: (beh-sheert) destined, fated, meant to be. "Beshert is beshert" is the Yiddish equivalent of "Que sera, sera." When used as a noun, it means "soul mate" or the one with whom you were destined to be.
If You Forget Me
ReplyDeleteYes
Do it
Forget that me
who no longer exists
The body cells
completely change
every seven years
The mind's recogniton
should follow
not grasping
old images
People of our past
may be unable to forget, though
Freezing you in time
What fun!
ReplyDeleteMakes me wonder about how people from my own past whom I haven't seen in many years might remember me ... I'm sure there are some who don't remember me at all!
ReplyDeleteI never fail to be amazed by this blog, and I really appreciate the special sharing during National Poetry Month! Write on!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Rich! Your kind words are much appreciated.
DeleteRisa,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed the perspective of "If you Forget me"
New cells every 7 years…
Throws a new light on Memory...
Here's what Neruda's evocative poem IF YOU FORGET ME triggered…
ReplyDeleteQUIET DEPARTURE
If you
forgot the
songs from the sea chapel
the
fragrance of
flowers lifting off
from
fields
of ferns wild
if you
forgot the famish
of one being without the other,
then,
love, leave me
quietly in the Fall veranda
but
please don’t
tell me you’ve left.
Wonderful, Basil! Great visual imagery and a terrific dismount!
Deleteoh, made my hair stand on end!
DeleteWhere the Sidewalk Ends
Deletejumping gleefully off concrete
step into cyberspace
instandly
accessing information
energetically sharing
across borders
noncorporal
but as real as a
dream
And my hair as well! This is really very good, and I quite like the surprise at the end.
DeleteA brilliantly-conceived and well-written poem, Basil! Reminiscent of the Romantic poets of the late 18th and 19th centuries who worked toward " ... the filtering of natural emotion through the human mind in order to create art, coupled with an awareness of the duality created by such a process."
DeleteWhen You Are Old
ReplyDeleteAll of a sudden
you can't do a lot of things.
Your skin looks wrinkled.
Your joints creek.
You've lost a lot of people
and maybe things.
Yet,
life seems simpler.
You can see through the BS
behind the scenes,
behind the wizard.
Hormones don't cloud
your mind.
Others opinions matter less.
It's all good,
as they say in the 'hood.
ADVANTAGE OF OLD YEARS
ReplyDeleteEach year
lips tremble more
when telling our stories
and fingers grow
snarly when
turning our pages
but we soon
discover the old years’
main advantage: They don’t last long
A profound reflection! Thanks for sharing it with us, Basil!
DeleteThere is so much truth in this, and perhaps a reminder that we should all savour every moment we are given. You and Risa seem to have been on the same page when writing for this prompt. It's a delight to see how each of you, in your individual ways, create poems from the same "source."
DeleteSome Days
ReplyDeleteSome days
street lights change
just in time
and the way ahead
is swift and easy
Other days
legs feel like lead
and walking comes hard
Full and empty
So goes the way
Back and forth
till
the end is reached
So true, Risa! Thanks for sharing! I'm so glad the inspiration poems and ideas are working for you!
DeleteHow many poems have you written so far for this year's poetry month?
Wonderful incorporation of everyday details and the larger meaning of the "way". Thanks, Risa!
DeleteThanks for commenting and thank you for all your thoughtful prompts. I think I've written a poem a day this year.
ReplyDeleteThank you for all the sharing, Risa! You add so much to this blog by way of your poems and comments. And ... big congrats on writing a poem every day!
DeleteKindness
ReplyDeleteNo
I'm not a saint
I'm good
I'm bad
I'm luminous
I'm dark
I'm just human
I accept that
Right to the point and so true! thanks, Risa!
DeleteWow! At last I got a website from where I be able to
ReplyDeletetruly take useful facts concerning my study and knowledge.
My web-site :: resell ebook
Hard to believe that the month of April has sped by. Just a quick thank you for all the inspiration and sharing, and for this fantastic blog.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Carrie, your kind words are much appreciated!
DeleteWhat a great month of poetry and inspiration! Thank you, Adele! Please convey my regards to both Basil and Risa who contributed so much all month.
ReplyDeleteAs we close the door on April, I offer this quote from Carl Sandburg: "Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment." Here's to more
thinking about what's seen during poetry moments on this blog! THANK YOU!
Thanks so much, Kathy, for your kind words and for the Sandburg quote! I'm glad to know that you enjoy the blog, and I'll convey your message to Basil and Risa. Thanks again!
DeleteOne more April of our lives is behind us. So, here is a toast to Adele (inspiration, fuel and operations guru behind it) and all the people who chose with their postings to celebrate poetry by reading it, playing with it, and entering into dialogues. It has been a pleasure and a privilege!
ReplyDeleteBasil
Thank you so very much, Basil! Your presence here on the blog is a gift to all of us, and I'm deeply grateful!
Delete