Happy May Day! Today is an Inklings challenge day, and Heidi challenged us to “Celebrate May by writing a poem that Maykes use of the verbs may, might, could, can, ought.” It felt SO good to use more words, syllables, and lines!
Here’s how the rest of the Inklings met this month’s challenge:
All of this month’s poems can be found at Poetrepository.
It is with relief that this NPM comes to a close. I’ve learned lots about writing poetry this month. There is power in working the same form day after day. You go deep and learn it well. You start to feel it in your bones, or in my case, start to speak in three syllable chunks. Similarly, there is power in trying to put big ideas into small containers. Synonyms were my friend, I learned to work the titles, and every now and then I got a rush of joy when I stuck a landing. Brevity was both a bane and a joy. I’m definitely ready to use more words and write more actual POETRY.
I also learned lots from reading the news every day. First of all, journalists are amazing. The number and variety of stories is endless. Bad news is way more relentless than my previous glances at headlines revealed. But there is also always good news to be found. It pays to be patient because things change with about the same frequency as they erupt. When all else fails, looking out the window or walking in the garden is the perfect antidote. Even just the act of making something every day and showing up with it in public helped put the news into perspective.
This final Friday of National Poetry Month is also a Poetry Sisters challenge week! We’re writing ekphrastic poems, so I chose an image from today’s NYT morning newsletter. Such a different spring view from my window and from his. When will this madness end?
Here’s what the rest of the Poetry Sisters came up with this month:
Today (Thursday, April 16) I needed a break from the unrelenting frazzlement of the U.S. news cycle, so I popped over to Al Jazeera for headlines from Europe. It was quite refreshing.
Happy National Poetry Month! My daily poems are at Poetrepository here and on Substack here and in IG stories here if you want to follow along. Or just check in here on Fridays for my weekly roundup!
Today is also Inklings Challenge Day. Linda challenged us to write an ars poetica poem, “A poem that explains the ‘art of poetry,’ or a meditation on poetry using the form and techniques of a poem.” I think mine fits best in the second category.
A few phrases in my poem were borrowed from Pádrig Ó Tuama’s 3/29 Poetry Unbound Substack “Belief and Wonder.”
Here’s how the rest of the Inklings met this month’s challenge:
This is a double-duty poem. First, it celebrates the Book Birthday of Marcie Flinchum Atkins’ new release, WHEN TWILIGHT COMES. Congratulations, Marcie!
Second, it’s a Poetry Sister challenge poem. This month we tried our hands at Ovillejos. According to Writer’s Digest, “The ovillejo is an old Spanish form popularized by Miguel de Cervantes (1547-1616). This 10-line poem is comprised of 3 rhyming couplets (or 2-line stanzas) and a quatrain (or 4-line stanza).” Easy, right? Oh…there’s more: “The first line of each couplet is 8 syllables long and presents a question to which the second line responds in 3 to 4 syllables–either as an answer or an echo.” (I think we mostly ignored that part…but there’s still more!) “The quatrain is also referred to as a redondilla (which is usually a quatrain written in trochaic tetrameter) with an abba rhyme pattern. The final line of the quatrain also combines lines 2, 4, and 6 together.” WHEW!
I pretty quickly discovered that in order to have a final line that made sense, I would need to start there and reverse engineer the whole poem. It felt like part puzzle, part fill-in-the-blanks. But I’m not sad about how mine turned out in the end!
Marcie has this week’s Poetry Friday roundup at Marcie Flinchum Atkins, and I can’t wait to see all the ways the community is lighting up the twilight skies in honor of her new book!
Here’s what the rest of the Poetry Sisters came up with this month:
I’ve found my way back into a regular poetry writing routine and simultaneously I might have found my NPM project. As I read the NYT or other assorted news sources, I borrow bits and pieces and write a tricube.
I’m in a bit of a writing slump, so thank goodness for Audrey Gidman’s Poetry Prompt Calendars! Here is the prompt for 3/11, which was the ninth anniversary of our mom’s death. Today, 3/12, is the 32-year anniversary of our dad’s death.
Write two short, separate, unrelated poems, 4-5 lines each. One describing a body of water you’re standing beside. One about a relative—a parent, a sibling, a child, or another relative (alternately, a person very dear to you—a lover, chosen family etc.) Once complete, stack the poems so the first line of one of the poems is first on the page, then the first line of the second poem is next. Weave them together in this way until you have one poem that contains two poems. You may consider weaving the poems again, so the second begins first. Notice what happens. Adjust as needed. It’s okay if the poem isn’t a success, it’s not about that, but you might be surprised by what “success” looks like.
Here are my two short, separate, unrelated poems:
Here is how the wove together, with a few necessary adjustments:
Linda has this week’s Poetry Friday roundup at TeacherDance.
Ever since Sara Teasdale’s poem “There Will Come Soft Rains” was the Poem of the Day this past week on Poets.org, I’ve been going back to it over and over again, working to memorize it. Sara T. and I go way back. My fourth graders and I memorized “Barter” my first year of teaching. I wish I had memorized a poem a year with every class. Just think of the library of words and images I’d have at my beck and call.
The turn in the middle of “There Will Come Soft Rains” comes as a gut punch. Especially now. I know that Nature wouldn’t miss humankind, but I desperately want her to know that I am mourning all that humans have destroyed, all that the current administration is determined to destroy. I want to bear witness to her ordinary miracles (cue Sarah McLachlan) and celebrate the life force that makes and heals our planet.
Margaret gave the Inklings this month’s challenge to write a poem using the word “becoming” somewhere in it. You might be able to feel the influence of Sara T. in my writing.
Here’s how the rest of the Inklings met this month’s challenge:
A(nother) Year of Reading 