My poem, Reparations, has found a home on the Extinction Rebellion Creative Hub! They publish fiction and poetry exclusively about climate change. B. Barker’s poem Lost Worlds also went live today (a good read) which is why “write a climate crisis poem” was this week’s LP Monday poetry prompt..
Technically I’ve already done mine, but, what the heck. I wrote another one.
There’s a temperature war going on at home. She’s hot. He’s cold. He’s cold. She’s hot. The spinning dial makes us dizzy The planet is in a climate tizzy.
There’s a temperature war going on at home. Overconsumption leads to deprivation. The Haves are spoiling The Have-Nots are broiling.
There’s a temperature war going on at home. Garbage and gases, islands of plastic poison the planet’s global conveyor belt. This is a war no one can win. Close the lid on Gaia’s coffin.
If you are a fan of the movie, “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” (and really, who isn’t?) then you are thinking of the common exclamatory expression in Greece and other Mediterranean countries.
But no Dear Reader. Today I am talking about OPA, Our Poetry Archive. OPA is an international online journal. In addition to posts on their website, https://opainternational.wordpress.com/, they publish an annual themed anthology.
This year the theme was Midnight. If you know me, you know I’m a night owl. Actually, a doctor once told me that I probably have circadian rhythm disorder. Sounds fancy. Might be true. Of course I do have to be awake and available during the day to interact with the world, but I am basically permanently on the wrong side of the clock. But I digress. This theme was made for me. I even wrote a poem titled “Midnight” years ago. To my delight, they published all three of the poems I submitted.
By the way, I knew opa was Greek but wanted to know more. In tonight’s linguist landslide of multiple websites (for verification and cross checking) I learned…
Opa is a common Mediterranean emotional expression. It is frequently used during celebrations such as weddings or traditional dancing. The word is flexible and has taken on many new meanings. It can also be used to express enthusiasm, shock or surprise. The actual meaning of “opa!” is more like “Oops” or “Whoops!” It’s used as an expression of shock and surprise, or just a way of getting someone’s attention, similar to “Hey” in English. Opa also appears in Brazil and Portugal, Albania, and other Slavic nations. Even modern Arabic speakers have borrowed it as an exclamation. They may pronounce it as “obah” because there is no letter ‘p’ in Arabic.
Who knew that one word could mean so much? Um… Duh…
Aloha How can one word do double duty for hello and goodbye and and anything in between? Perhaps it’s because the word makes us feel the warmth of connection. Perhaps it’s the same reason why LOVE is the biggest word in the universe.
I feel dull today Fireworks were yesterday No sparkle for me.
When B started posting blogs titled “Fraiku: title” it took me two beats too long to figure out what that was. It’s not a new form of poetry. It’s a portmanteau. Fraiku = Friday + Haiku. Today I wrote a Haiku to the LP Monday prompt and decided to call it a Monku. Actually I put a lot of thought into this. Possibly too much!
What about the rest of the week? What are the grammar rules for this? For example: When a word ends in y, to make it plural, change the y to i and add es. A singular pest is a fly. More than one of these pests are flies. There should be a system for this. Pardon me if this has been done before. Here’s what I did.
If the first syllable of the first word ends in a vowel, cut that word just before that vowel. If the first syllable has a vowel and ends in a consonant, cut the first word at the consonant and drop the first syllable of Haiku. Pronunciation is a bit subjective here, so I took at swing at that too. What follows is your guide:
I love postcards and have been collecting them since I was a kid. It was the one thing my mother would let me buy when we went places, and the picture was always better than anything I could have taken with my crappy flashbulb camera. Even now, I prefer to just enjoy the scenery when I go someplace and let the professionals document the place for me. I’m not shy about asking family and friends to bring me a postcard when they travel. For years I was in an informal postcard exchange program with a couple of my coworkers. We would bring each other postcards when we traveled so each of us had cubicle walls decorated with other people’s vacations. A few years ago, I decided to cull my collection. The boxes were too heavy and I was going to move, again! I had duplicates and multiples from several popular vacation spots. So I kept the best and mailed them to everyone I knew who lived in another city.
Top 10 Reasons to Love Postcards
Inexpensive — a cheap thrill
Lightweight and will fit in any overstuffed suitcase
Durable and will last longer than the relationship
Satisfying to hold (unlike texts)
They will never cause a problem getting through customs.
I always check the Living Poetry Monday Poetry Prompt to see if it inspires something. The prompts are always accompanied by a picture. I really liked the picture this week, even more so than the actual prompt (write a backyard poem.). The odd thing, however, is that the backyard in the poem is not the backyard in the picture. Weird right? Welcome to ekphrastic poetry. where a poem can be a description or about the deeper meanings of a piece of art. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, or stories or poems.
Sometimes when the light was right she could see the future. There was a world beyond the fence, the dirt, the beer cans and rusted parts from a dozen iron horses. Her small hands clenched into fists, holding a promise. when she left someday she would never look back.
In my March 8th post, Poetry News and Notes, I mentioned that I took second place in the NCPS annual competition, Bruce Lader Poetry of Witness category (current events). Now that the annual anthology of winning poems, Pinesong, has been published, I am free to share the poem here on my blog.
Assume the Position
First position: stand in line Learn this in kindergarten. Do it to death. Try not to do it in a police station.
Second position: hands in the air Use one hand if you’re a student. Use two if you’re in front of a gun.
Third position: head between your knees Essential for turbulent flights and hangovers. It may also be necessary in hostage crises.
Fourth position: kneel Do this to propose, or protest police brutality. Do not do this on someone’s neck.
Fifth position: bend over Touch your toes for a light stretch. Take a deep breath for the strip search.
It’s the last day of National Poetry Month and the last day of the Poem-a-Day Challenge. I didn’t write 30 poems, but I wrote more than 15. I read tons of poetry online, mostly from contemporary poets, but I did read some classic poetry as I claimed I would. I read John Donne (Metaphysical Poet from the late 1500’s). I also read the analysis which I needed!. As to other poetry tasks, I read my poetry at two online events, by invitation and I pursued publication by submitting to four journals. No responses yet. Whew!
And now I have two (2!) new poems for you. These are both to Robert Brewer’s April 28 prompt: For today’s prompt, write a remix poem. This has become one of my favorite prompts, because it asks us to look over what we’ve written this month and pick something (or many somethings) to poem out in a new way. Maybe your free verse becomes a sonnet or your sestina transforms into haiku. Or take a line or phrase from each of your poems this month and work it into a cohesive new creation.
But how can I do that if I don’t have 29 poems to pull from? Use someone else’s work of course! They say it’s better to ask forgiveness than ask for permission. So I took lines from two different poet bloggers I follow and assembled two poems – one for each of them. I added a bit of original material to the first one to hang her lines together, but the second poem is almost entirely his lines. Be sure to click the URL for each of them so you can go to their blog and read their original work.
Traveling When was the last time you opened a map? Who determines our path: us or the wind or fate? It’s the voice that seldom leaves us alone that pushes us out the door.
Don’t listen to words spoken from the lip of the bottle. Listen instead for lighthearted laughter as soft as lamb’s wool clouds.
Home is not the appropriate place to find fresh winds blowing. I begin with rivulets and follow to where they merge with creeks flowing into rivers. Finally I will reach the ocean, stand and watch each wave as it approaches, swells, explodes, and then recedes ̶ the tide’s lap dance with the shore.
It will stay at the Ordinary Inns favored by poets, preachers and just plain sinners that mark the thin places where different worlds meet.
Now is not the time for caution.
Cancel my appointments I think too much
This poem is the scab forming over a trauma and I can’t stop picking at it
I want to drink life straight from the bowl and sing praises to the moon every chance I get
Whose bones are these? I just know I want one. Like a dog chasing a car
All that pent up tension I won’t be keeping a social distance Shape is trivial Nothing will come between our lips
I will just put one word in front of the other until I cross the finish line.
Some vessels are best left unopened but were archaeologists to steal my computer they’ll know where I’ve been.
Inspired by a moonless sky I leave this poem as an apology to the future of our relationship.
I have writer friends and non-writer friends. No surprise there. Life would be a bit dull if all of my friends were exactly like me. Some (many) of my friends are not big poetry fans. When people tell me they don’t like poetry, they usually rush to add, “But I like yours.” It makes me laugh. I’m always happy when someone tells me they like my poetry, but it’s certainly not a requirement to be friends with me. I also hear people tell me that while they like some poetry they could never write it. Meh. I don’t agree. I think anyone can write.
I never worry or balk at my age. More birthdays. More cake. But I think I will stop at 59. Instead of years I will Level Up. This way every trip around the sun will be a victory lap towards Mastery of my life.
Speaking of Math and Poetry, I have two very dear friends who are “Math People.” One of them, Bartholomew Barker, is the rare Math Person who also writes poetry after working his day job as a programmer. (Click his name to read some of his work.) My other Math Friend, Tess Fisher, just so happens to be an extraordinarily gifted sewist. She can sew anything from underwear to formal wear and anything in between. She sews for people of all sizes and shapes and even pets. She also makes wonderful costumes and turned herself in to Fawkes from the Harry Potter series last fall. I’m amazed by her talent. She is also one of my “poetry is not for me” friends. But as it turns out, despite her claims, she can indeed write a poem. With her permission:
If I Had a Pen, by Tess Fisher
If I had a pen, Would I write a poem?
Or would I sketch a design, Do some math, Or twirl it like a baton?
If I had a pen… I would, Anything…but write a poem.
Can’t get enough poetry? Need something to do next Monday, April 26, 2021? Join me and 9 other poets who will be reading some poems and discussing their work at the annual Poetry on Your Plate events sponsored by the town of Carrboro, Parks & Recreation. It’s normally held in person but since Covid is still around, it’s virtual. Anyone can attend. It goes from 6pm to 8pm EDT. on Zoom.
In a poem a word is not equal to its meaning as it is defined in a dictionary, because either the meaning in a poem is totally different, or it is the same but a thousand times more precise. ~ Heaven Is Not Verbose: A Notebook, by Vera Pavlova, translated by Steven Seymour.
Poetry month is almost half over. I said I would write a poem a day to the challenge, if I was inspired, or I had time, or I felt like it. I’m right on track. It’s Day 12 and I’ve written 6 poems, 2 haiku and some scraps, which may or may not work their way into a poem. I also said I was going to read some of the classic poets. I started off with Blake and then got distracted. But today I was introduced to Vera Pavlova, quoted above, .
Written in 2012, this lovely piece is a multi-pager series of notes and observations about poetry, life, and writing. It’s filled with quotable lines such as this: “Went to bed with an unfinished poem in my mouth and could not kiss.”
And this one, “I live my life moving forward on rails that I lay myself. Where do I get the rails? I dismantle the ones I have gone over.”
I encourage you to click the bold title above and read this wonderful poem and find a few lines that speak to you.
Can’t get enough poetry on zoom?
Two of my poems were selected for the Heart Beats Poetry Anthology published by Lisa Tomey of The Prolific Pulse, the busiest poet I know. The book has been launched and celebrated with two readings by contributing poets which are available here on her blog. All the poetry is great but if you just want to see what I look like and how I sound (hint: like Minnie Mouse) check out the evening session and drag on over to minute 29. Better yet, listen to all of the poetry. And buy a book! And definitely follow her blog and join her for poetry, open mic events for Mondays in April, Poet’s Coffee Table Talks and book reviews.
It’s April again. This is National Poetry Month. I read T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland with a group of poets a couple of years ago. I enjoyed learning about the poem but I don’t remember what we decided he meant by April being the cruelest month. Except for the last decade (or more), April has become the month to inspire poets to write a new poem everyday. I’ve done it. It’s tough but does provide a nice stockpile of work to bring to critique workshops. But these days I’m just not into working that hard.
My motto for National Poetry Month: Enjoy poetry! There are lots of online poetry readings. I will be attending the book launch of the Heart Beatspoetry anthology. published by Lisa Tomey, Prolific Pulse. (PS. I’m very proud to say that I have two poems in this book.). I will also be one of the poets featured at Poetry On Your Plate, hosted by the Carrboro Parks and Recreation department on April 26. (Living Poetry Meetup for the event.)
Of course I’ll write poetry. I’ll check the daily prompts on Robert Brewer’s “Write Better Poetry” daily April Challenge (formerly Poetic Asides). But not everyday! And I plan on reading poems from well-known poets. I read a lot of poetry from my contemporaries, but I think I could use some more grounding in the classics.
What do you plan to do for National Poetry Month?
Have You Met Me?
“Get out there and enjoy this beautiful day!” Have you met me? I am indoorsy I prefer Nature through a window.
“Have a fabulous day!” How long have you know me? Keep your uber enthusiasm to yourself.
“You should wear… do … to your hair” How dare you tell me what I should care about. Don’t give me diet advice. Don’t talk to me before coffee.
“It’s April. Write a Poem every day!” You can’t make me. My inner child is strong. Except I will write this one.