Monday, April 30, 2012
- Write a poem with five lines.
- Or write a poem in which each line has exactly five words. Or five syllables.
- Make the title of your poem "Five [BLANK]" or "[BLANK] times five" or "The fifth time I ever [BLANK]."
- Writing on a theme or subject that relates to the number five, such as Charles Simic's "Bestiary for the Fingers of My Right Hand," a five-part poem about his fingers; or Eleanor Lerman's poem "Starfish."
Lines that rhyme in sets of five.
Take five breaths between each word you write.
Listen to Dave Brubeck's "Time Out" (in 5/4 time) as you write.
Eat five bananas before writing.
Five a poem this week.
labels: [five, poem, your name]
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
t o u c h i n g d o w n (III)
ground takes in materializes the spirit that is us such
that sl o wing happens connections between molecules
creating solid masses s e e mingly solid simply excited
particles some how re lating in their mutual ex ci tation
bonding familiarizing con-fusing temporarily merging
attributes creating aggregates of like-minded light and
pony shows giving eachofus some thing to riderideride
to lay down at somepoint where the natural return(s) to
birth of moisture and dust ~ that which is seen/unseen
Monday, April 23, 2012
Keywords: poem, lightning, [poet's moniker]
Note Uranus is the planet of lightning, is in Aries. Lightning is being born, lightning is on fire.
Image credit: Science Daily (2008, March 28). "Bolts of Blue Lightning and other Weird Lightning Explained."
my ukelele-banjo-guitar in a black sack
wrapped around me, stalking dusk
and a microbrew. I hate driving
Somedays a prison, some days
sanctuary. Somedays all I want
is a little more humanity in my white box,
more than the tinny radio yields.
My truck. Long days driving in
a refrigerator, a cock pit, a coffin:
music will open up the door.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
I am shorter than ever
& totally female
& standing in combat boots
with “Negotiator” blazed
across my back
& one nasty black luger
on my right hip
that said to the poet (drinking coffee at a table)
“she’d win a lot of negotiations with that luger on her hip,
& put their feet in cement & turn the hose on”
oh how the poet digresses
I just wanted a short cap &
saw the goateed older guy staring with interest so I gave him a nod,
no smile nothing but a nod
& walked out with my short cap
& left him with his words to write.
Friday, April 20, 2012
outside all of you
you've made a mockery of me
a high deity of me
merely minding its own
business gestating gestating
i was prompted
compounded to take on
other forms than my own
my once pristine nature
of yet known emanation
and there was something
that went to see
the spectrum of lights
still missing me
the timing was
what it was
is what it is
i have donned
all you foretold
innocent am i
waiting and sly
cannot contain myself
bating you on
singing this song
one and the same
all in your name
was once was
life itself still
the grace am i
come to know
you think you
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
- I am just going to stand here
- as the lightshow spins away.
- But if it were petroleum
- in a puddle and I were
- still young by the sun’s count,
- I would put my finger in
- to see what I could be midwife to
- for the wonder of it, and,
- looking up, to share.
I know there's more than 15,000
stars in the night sky, but I always thought there was
lots of space between them, I imagined them
langorous and whimsical in their
gyres and frolic
in the deep deep
tides of blackness.
I know there's more than 15,000
people at this conference, and I never knew
how jostling it must be for those stars.
How they might push and hustle to get a spot
in the great halls of velvet darkness.
Do constellations ever wonder
if they matter or if they're just specks?
Or can I learn from them, how to keep
my bright fire bright, how to find my place in the echoing
hallways of deep space
through relating to other bright candles?
I promised to myself to introduce myself
as "a galactic cloud so deep"*
if anyone asked who I was.
I know there's more than 15,000
but none of them asked.
So I'm writing this poem
to constellate myself within the great and spacious
tides of time, to sing out my brightness
as "a galactic cloud so deep"
* Adrienne Rich, from "Planetarium"
Image credit: The Photopic Sky Survey, the largest true-color all-sky survey – along with a constellation and star name overlay option – is available here. From http://www.universetoday.com/85577/photopic-sky-survey/
Monday, April 16, 2012
|by David Fleischmann|
A poet can sometimes convey deep truth by intentionally tilting her own platform by self-imposing an obstacle, restraint, recipe, unfamiliarity, randomness or surprise within the writing process.
This week, doff your daily persona and don a different one. Speak like someone else. Take a different voice or perspective. Try a mode or method of writing that is unfamiliar. Tap into details that reflect something you didn't experience directly but reflect the deeper truth.
In short, adopt a different persona and write as someone else.
keywords: poem, altpersona, your name
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
if you give a galaxy to carry
give me the milky way
with Hathor and Osiris astride
so here and near I can almost see the laser beaming aliens
& give my aliens bodies
for I have finally
come to love this body of mine
so complex & rich in pains and pleasures
& able to sense sound
& smell & taste & sight &
feel me with your lasers
celestial bodies out there
peel my layers & pierce these starry eyed skies
with mirth & circumstance
send your constant arrow of light...
Monday, April 9, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Conjuring “Dream of a Common” “Sorrow Dance”
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
(Watkins & Shulman, 2008)
i want to laugh but i am tearing
out my hair/heart with adrienne
how can you leave, o goddess of the deep?
when my wife was in the hospital i tried
to read you to her but it was too rough and wrangle
and she needed peace
now what i need is you, hope you can be
an ancestress blessing us
we sure need some of your
can-must-will in this time of freefalling:
steady on, adrienne, goddess of all
Monday, April 2, 2012
Take another poem, song lyric, prose passage or other piece of writing and play magnetic refrigerator poetry with it. Rearrange the words in any order you like to create a new piece of writing.
Will you echo the original meaning or leverage the process of rearrangement to make a rebuttal? Will you try to keep your source material apparent, or will your new piece be unrecognizable?
In your post (if you wish), indicate the original work for reference.
Tags: poem, scramble, your name
Sunday, April 1, 2012
of the fool. A shout out to my friend Janet who is a pro