Reverse Poem and another NaPoWriMo comes to a close...

It now surprises me that NaPoWriMo is all but over. I feel just a little sad that tomorrow I will not have a daily prompt to write a poem, but that doesn't mean I can't write daily. I have had some challenges with muses, prompts, and time. Between the A to Z challenge and the theatre projects, I have written 30 poems. I also need to give a huge thanks to the Poets Three (the musketeers) for reading and enjoying my poems, giving awesome encouragement. Thank you, Guys!

I got to know Jesi and Rod during OctPoWriMo last year, I met Lizzi on this go around of NaPoWriMo. We have become quite the tight group. These three are some of my closest internet friends. I love them in the whole of my soul, and hope that we stay close after this month has faded into the history books. For today I thought I would use one the last poems from my OctPoWriMo titled Imaging the End. This wasn't a strong piece, more back then, a bit of a reflective piece more than anything. But, when I sat down in the final hours of this month, I realized that I had something that I could work with.

And now for our final prompt (still optional!). For the last day of NaPoWriMo, I’d like you to try an odd little exercise that I have had good results with. Today, I challenge you to write a poem backwards. Start with the last line and work your way up the page to the beginning. Another way to go about this might be to take a poem you’ve already written, and flip the order of the lines and from there, edit it so the poem now works with its new order. This will probably feel a bit strange (and really, it is a bit strange), but it just may help you see the formal “opening” and “closing” strategies of your poems in a new way!

I had some fun, placing the lines in reverse order and then editing it into a new poem. I think it works better and comes off stronger. What do you think, Dear Readers?

Original:
Imaging the End

On the day before
Never could I believe

That I have made it through the month.
Here is the proof that in the words I write, that
Everyday I made the choice

Daring that I could write everyday, a poem.
Always using the prompts given (which was a choice),
Yet, I managed, within the sometimes daily writer's block.

Before there was an idea and
Even when there wasn't.
First, I would think
Of the possible outcomes then
Really set to write, free verse or haiku until
Everything suddenly fell into place.

Reverse Ending Rewrite:

Reverse Ending

Suddenly--

fell into place

set to write, 

   free verse 

        or 

        haiku 

Of the possible outcomes then?

First, 

   I would think of the end.

Even when there wasn't--

   before there was an idea

within writer's block.

Using the prompts 

(which was a choice),

Daring everyday, 

      a poem.

Everyday,

a choice

     the proof 

        in the words I write

                   this month.

Z is for Zombie Prom

Tomorrow is our Zompre Prom, a fundraiser for our show and an actual prom, with streamers, balloons, and a floral arch for pictures. I never went to my high school prom. I probably missed out. But,  now I get a chance to enjoy a prom with my closest heatre friends and (quite possibly) have a more awesomer time thsn in high school. I even have a date!!!

SMILE...

...Pictures or it didn't happen! 

I promise!! 

If you are curious and our in the Corning/Bath area May 29th and 30th, you should come and see Zombie Prom at Bath Haverling's auditorium. It's a fun story about love and zombies. Enough said! And it's a musical too!!

Been learning songs about Rules, Regulations, and Respect; the news beat; and Enrico Fermi High. Dancing and singing, being around my theatre family, and so much more. It's been a full spring already! But again, I would have it any other way.

Etheree on Yearning...

Today's challenge: to write a poem in the form of a review. You can review either animate or inanimate things, real places or imaginary places. You can write in the style of an online review (think Yelp) or something more formal that you might find in a newspaper or magazine. (I imagine that bad reviews of past boyfriends/girlfriends might be an easy way to get into this prompt, though really, you can “review” anything in your poem, from summer reading lists for third graders to the idea of the fourth dimension).

A Conversation with My Brain!

Um, well....

I am not sure about this. a review you say? ~turns head to look around, hoping to see someone else looking a little confused~ Not what I was expecting. Although these prompts generally are anything I expect. If I knew what to expect then I clearly wouldn't have an challenge in this particular challenge, right? I am not sure what to write about and since today is Y for the A to Z Challenge, I am even more put out.

I am not pouting!

I know it is optional, but I ALWAYS do the prompt. ~mumbles~ Okay, yes, I did choose to skip two of the prompts, but that was because of time and traveling and stuff....Finer! You're right brain! I can choose to NOT write the prompt, but that would be a waste of a chance to prove me wrong (well that part of my brain that doubts).

You're right, I need to write a review style poem. I need to stretch my muscles, push the boundaries. A writer writes! And so, I will write. And because I don't do anything small I am writing an ETHEREE. A poem that has 10 lines, each line has an increasing number of syllables, starting at 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. An even greater challenge is a double etheree using the same formula: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Check out Shadow Poetry for a great poetry resource.

 This is a review of some of the thoughts that process through my head when writing poetry. It is about as close as I can figure and I think it works on its own level.

Y is for Yearning

Mind's a Yearnin'

Yearn--

I do

want some praise,

acknowledgement

for a job well done--

doing things diversely

or trying something new like

writing some triple tetractys

(I think that is eight syllables, right?)

I am always trying to strive for it.

Never am content to be average,

I will formulate a more thorough poem

with this day drawing to a timely close

it is that much more important

that I write  my words with care

even though I always

I still feel a yen,

a yearning to

write the best,

worth praise--

Poem.

Bonus: I thought that I would share some of my older poetry with my Poet Musketeers.

For my Athos: a limmerick (it is really lame), but it's a present for you on the eve of the end of NaPoWriMo and A to Z 2015.

What are things that are furry
with ears done up in a hurry
Lasting only two minutes
that’s definitely finite
So much for all that scurry.

For my Aramis: a love poem from my early college days, circa 2000. Since you write of love with such a passion, I thought you would appreciate this.

her touch

that which I have seen in dreams, stares at me this evening
her eyes glow uncertain, they seem tainted with tears
I wish to hold her
ease the pain that has plagued her
hazel eyes for so long
soft and gentle like the slow creeping ivy vines she twists around me
finding my weakness
but not that it would choke me, its grasp is far too gentle
calming
do I love her?
that never occurred to me
do I love her?
the touch that knows she's there
that she cares
does she love me?
patient hands that caress my tired head
my wretched soul, against her angelic one
how do I know?
do I love her?
never before until now have I known
can this love be real?
does she love me?
maybe I'm just dreaming again
but she still stands there, under lights of blue and gray
do I love her?
Yes I think I do...


For my D'artagnen: a poem of passion from my early days.  I think this was in my Dragonlance books days. I do hope you enjoy.

Blood Brothers

Holes in our mind
Nothing gets in
Frozen eardrums
Bleed through.

We don’t see it in time,
My guess is as good as yours.
You’re timid
I’m fearless,
Does that make us both cowards?

Stranded on beaches
Bare-boned to the world,
Wounds hide only what’s left of our pride.

I can’t take it
How can you?

Never see
What you seem to see.

My wish,
No harm to you,
But you push back,
Your spiny ridges poke through
And my sore flesh is bruised--
My Brother.

Bridge to Cross...Across the Sea!

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about bridges. A bridge is a powerful metaphor, and when you start looking for bridges in poems, you find them everywhere. Your poem could be about a real bridge or an imaginary or ideal bridge. It could be one you cross every day, or one that simply seems to stand for something larger – for the idea of connection or distance, for the idea of movement and travel and new horizons.

Okay, I bridge it is. After reading poet post, Jesi, I felt that maybe I need where I wanted to go with this prompt. I have come to know the people dubbed The Poets Three. Their comments and conversations and votes of confidences have push me into new ways of thinking and stretching my poetic license. And even though we live some far across these cyber seas, I feel we are that much closer. They are the ones that make that make me feel less lonely as a poet. These are the folk that I can celebrate my victories and share my woes with in verse and friendship. Thank you, The Poets Three, Jesi, Rod, and Lizzi.

Today's a Pantoum about Bridges and Friendship across the miles.

from Morgue File

Sometime Marooned I be

Sometimes I feel a marooned captain that drifts upon a sea--
not so filled with water is this sea that upon I ride,
but an ocean of amassed of digital ones and zeros
that fills the spaces between the known lands.

Not so filled with water is this sea that upon I ride
while it is true that I do surf upon these strange tides,
that fills the spaces between the known lands
this is a vast and lonely cyber sea.

While it is true that I do surf upon these strange tides
and lonely is my journey often,
this is a vast and lonely cyber sea,
and I can count my blessing three.

And lonely is my journey often,
with nary and single crew to man this stalwart vessel
and I can count my blessings three;
1, 2, 3 others who float along this shiny sea with me.

With nary a single crew to man this stalwart vessel
yet, its the Poets Three who raise the sails, the
1, 2, 3 others who float along this shiny sea with me
staying the mainsail and swabbing the poop deck.

Yet, its the Poets Three who raise the sail, the
guiding voices that bridge the gaps of these lonely seas
staying the mainsail and swabbing the poop deck
when all of the wind and weather has beaten me raw.

Guiding voices that bridge the gaps of these lonely seas--
an ocean of amassed of digital ones and zeros,
when all of the wind and weather has beaten me raw--
sometimes I feel a marooned captain that drifts upon a sea.

Now onto the A to Z Challenge, so a second poem and about something equally random.  X is for Xanadu! It's part of a classic poem, Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and it is also a ultra cheesy movie musical, Xanadu with Olivia Newton-John, and music by ELO (mostly). Xanadu is basically what paradise would be, so tonight a Cinquain for Xanadu.

I can't remember if I use Xanadu last year, but I am sure I didn't use it to write a poem. The way I think about it, even if I overlap, at least I am keeping it fresh.

Fragmented Fantasy

Magic

it unfolds in dreams

and I am dancing in

the biggest ballroom of pleasure

right here.

In case you are confused by this and have never read the poem or saw the movie, I present the most famous part of Kubla Khan and the title song from the movie:

The first stanza of Kubla Khan: 

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

   Down to a sunless sea.

Writing Hay(na)ku

Some days are just as simple as this.

And today’s prompt – optional, as always — comes to us from Vince Gotera. It’s the hay(na)ku). Created by the poet Eileen Tabios and named by Vince, the hay(na)ku is a variant on the haiku. A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. You can write just one, or chain several together into a longer poem. 

Today letter makes today's NaPoWriMo prompt easy. It  just rolled off my fingers as I was typing it. That doesn't always happen. After having read some fellow poet friends hay(na)ku, I feel pretty good about today's poem. Although it is a rather strange name for a poetic form, Hay(na)ku, sounds like some sort of a mixed drink, or an exotic bird.

W is for Writing

Ink 

to paper

I will write.

Mind

is reaching

for something else.

Hands

upon keyboard

what to write.

Muse

I wait

come to me.

Time

is now

pen to paper.

A bit of update on my A Round of Words in 80 Days.

This Week:
     *Reading: about halfway through Murder in the Mews (Agatha Christie) and started Let's Pretend This Never Happened : (Jenny Lawson, also known as, The Bloggess).  You should check out her website.
     *Writing: I have been keeping up with the blog challenges, NaPoWriMo and Blogging A to Z.
     *Theatre Stuffs: rehearsals for Zombie Prom and Aesop's Foibles are coming along and that's keeping me pretty busy between the days.

Final goals for the month of April:
    *Writing: write the flash fiction for #writestuff's monthly challenge which ends tomorrow. Not that I can't do. In fact, I will! Stay tuned. And after all ROW80 is flexible.

A Round of Words in 80 Days, the blog challenge that knows you you have a life. Come and visit the Blog Hop!

Poetry Catch up: Clerihew and Persona Poetry

Not feeling that great, sinus headache and returning from outta town. More on that later...

I need to get caught up on my poetry prompts. I miss two (I free wrote instead) days. For this I feel guilty, so, Dear Readers, I give you a Clerihew. Not really my forte. I have a hard time writing rhyming funny/witty things. Rhyming, yes, I have gotten quite good at it. But, the funny or witty lines often comes across as silly. Still I attempt it, with that I present my Clerihew about The Doctor.

A Clerihew is a comic verse consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme, aabb invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16. The poem is about/deals with a person/character within the first rhyme. In most cases, the first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.

The Doctor's a Timelord

within his own mind warred.

A troubled man who, often flustered

he still love fish fingers and custard.

For today's prompt, a persona poem I am sharing an older poem, but a personal favourite.

Today, I challenge you to write a persona poem – a poem in the voice of someone else. Your persona could be a mythological or fictional character, a historical figure, or even an inanimate object. Need some examples?

This one is dedicated to Rod. It's a most romanticize version of the history, but it's one of the few poems from the year 1998 that I am really proud of. I was in college and it was probably written for a class. Hope you enjoy my retro flashback (I know that's a redundant statement). It's not quite in the main characters voice, I realize this now...

Anastasia

Once a family,

So proud it stood, amidst the

Snowy undertow.

Where one would freeze, their

Hearts pure gold: dusty heavens

Fall.

On  Father’s knee, she loved

Him best, the Czar, Nikolai

She was his pride and joy.

But not forever, for Rasputin, he came too.

Eyes cold, bitter heart,

He made the people bellow

War on the house, Romanov.

Her golden joy kept Nikolai warm

When rebellion

Kicked full in.

But in the end, dreams do

Fall through.

Cold memories buried in that

Undertow.

None knew how she did not

Perish,

But no small golden child

Lies there among fig-like trees.

Some day soon there will be

A golden day.  That melts

The ice he, Rasputin did create and

Rightfully proclaim

Romanov, her name.

And two that are...Can you guess to whom the voices belong to, Dear Readers? (Note: all these poem are from the year 1998).

Darkness

It was in a dream--

I was once beautiful,
Some say I still am,
But I no longer think so.

I live in a world of darkness
That cuddles my bones
And holds my pathetic body together.

Before this torment,
I was young,
Naive,
A silly girl with foolish dreams.

The darkness is my home now,
Despite all my "loving" husband does for me.
I expect nothing from him
His heart has long been in the
Ground,
Eaten away by bugs.

Darkness wraps around my body,
Holding onto my lips that are moist
With his sweat.
The babbling idiot.

Such a silly girl who sits and eats Pomegranate seeds
That condemns her
To her lord and master,
Hades.

His teeth smell like rotten fruit
His overall appeal leaves something
To be desired.
His hands touch my Virgin skin,
And makes my blood boil like Apollo's ball of fire.

So here I am
In the darkness to conceal what mother doesn't know.

Mother,
You hold no place for me. You
Have banned me, your own flesh and blood, condemned me.
No help from dear sweet mother.

Leave me to my darkness
That is the one love of my life.

A Fair Light

Only I have wished for this, 

My dream is now the reality.

In wedded bliss

She did come

And here, yes here, she will stay.

A promise that she would be true

Through the compromise springtime

Did make.

She lights the endless hallways,

The dark ways that incessantly drip

Sulfuric tendencies into my brain.

She is the lavender that dispels the molding dankness of this 

hollowed abyss

It wafts through my nostrils, my muscles pulsate for her touch.

These Plutonian Shores,

So desolate that I droop like a dried up olive tree,

No sunlight comes here.

Her presence lightens the branches

And harvests my soul.

Death tolls every hour,

Minute,

Second of my life.

It is her, the fair light in eternal darkness.

Haiku on the Half Shell

I am traveling today and so I don't have to worry about writing on the road I have provide a little poem for today. Seems I am up before the day's prompt is. Hehehe!

V is for Venus (Goddess of Love)

I just picked up the dictionary to find a topic. Yay, Random!! Today is a haiku day. Why? Well, why not? It's sunny, although not likely warm. I'll take the sunshine. Have a nice 2 hour drive ahead of me. Friends awaiting arrival (well, maybe they are still asleep at 8:33 in the morning). So, today is random day and because I have no optional daily prompt. You, Dear Readers get some haiku! How lucky are you? ~wink~

Enjoy!!

Goddess on the half
She is beauty incarnate
of Greek pantheons

Ask for a blessing

and otherwise she will blush

before she complies

Love is a harsh one
no Goddess wishes to bring
Love to where there's none

Oh mighty Goddess

hear my call upon thee for

all I want is love

Poetic Parody/Satire: Second to Last Fig

I'm glad for a little snark today. ~CLEARS THROAT~

Our prompt today (optional, as always), will hopefully provide you with a bit of Friday fun. Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).

I have known of Edna St. Vincent Millay since high school and her poem First Fig. It was always taught, or at least brought up. I'm not sure if it really my favourite of her poem. It is the most famous. It reminds me of how busy our lives can be.

My "remixed" version of First Fig.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Second to Last Fig

You say to light a candle at both ends;
You realize the trouble with that, Lady?
That people from far and near will say
She sits in the dark with hot wax on her hands.

Last year for NaPoWriMo one of the topic was to rewrite a classic poem. I took one of my favourite poet, Robert Frost's poem. I turned it into a satire of the original, which is very similar to today's topic. I wanted to share it again with you, Dear Readers. I feel like it depicts today prompt better than what I wrote today. Both poems I consider to be "remixes". Maybe it will trend and more poets and writers will remix old classic poems or try remix their own works. Maybe I will try that after NaPoWriMo with the Poets Three (Rod, Jesi, and Lizzi). *hint hint*

U is for Using something again.

Yeah, that's a weak excuse, but I have a rather full weekend and honestly I can't think of a good U word to use, except USE. :-) Enjoy...

Walking by the Forest of Someone Wealthier than I

Whose lands are here, with POSTED signs along the way
to guard his unused and forgotten 150 acres of wilderness.
I doubt he knows that boys camp here or hunters make their way
on warm summer nights and the opening of the hunting season.

Max, my trusty Golden Doodle, here is barking at the trees
at the forest edge at unseen creatures stirring within--
I know that raccoons, possums live here, as do white-tailed deer
and once and a while, if I squint my eyes,  I can spot 'em.

His barking disturbs my stares at the thick pines and maples
tugging upon his lead, asking to go after the chase.
He can hear the night creatures as they wake
with trips of pine needles, but I have to go.

A short hike through these woods, I would love to take,
but the promises of legal pursuit are far too great.
And yet, I still I have to pee.
And yet, I still I have to pee.

Letter T: Of Queens and Seekers

And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge you to take a chance, literally. Find a deck of cards (regular playing cards, tarot cards, uno cards, cards from your “Cards Against Humanity” deck – whatever), shuffle it, and take a card – any card! Now, begin free-writing based on the card you’ve chosen. Keep going without stopping for five minutes. Then take what you’ve written and make a poem from it.

T is for Tarot 

I use my tarot deck so little lately, that I figured it wouldn't might a little action. My deck was given to me by a very dear friend, Sandra. The Witches Tarot is a beautiful and rich deck, and it seems to have a sense of humour. As I was shuffling this card popped out...

The Queen of Cups needs another card to modify it. The base meaning is that there are emotions tied to the concept or person associated with this card, and these feeling have started a path/journey towards the modifying card. My modifying card is this...

The seeker means a search for the light, knowledge, seeking guidance from the ancestors. How fitting, Dear Readers. How fitting!

So, I wrote for about five minutes and came up with this...

In a world of seekers there are also queen. you see I know both the type. The royalty that rules the land and the quiet reserved hermit, studying with their own little realms. But can a hermit be a queen of their own study. The matriarch of the library. I guess it stands to reason that maybe a queen can also be a hermit, a seeker, a quiet wanderer of amongst the tome and tarots. Maybe either could learn a bit more of the truths behind each of the others world. A queenly who learns from the past will rule wisely and with a gentleness, while a hermit can makes the laws of sight and mind work to the benefit of their world, the world as a whole. I think that is the real power, knowing that you can be both while still being you.

Of Queens and Seekers

Queens--

the bearer of cups,

a seeker in her own rite

and she has chosen her path.

A scholar within her own realm,

strength she has to rule with a firm grasp

if she chooses

that she must, yes

but will she?

Seekers--

the scholars be

royalty of their own

small microcosm

of study's and libraries

where they make the law

of books and scrolls of parchment

they too can choose

will choose.

Will they?

For one to exist,

there has to be another, yes?

Yes,

yet no less important

are either side be.

To be a scholarly queen

is more powerful than just

a reigning monarch.

Or a queenly scholar

bringer of knowledge 

head raised high.

Together

as one

 they can make the whole.

Ruling--

by hearts of the gentle

and hands of the strong.

Pastoral Stardust

This one was easy. I just needed a few hours to find my reason for writing it. As I love pantoum, it on seemed appropriate to write a pastoral pantoum in the vein of a Neil Gaiman inspired dreamscape. I think this is my favourite optional prompt this month (NaPoWriMo) and the poem that I am most proud of, Dear Readers. Enjoy...

And now for (as always, optional) prompt! Today is Earth Day, so I would like to challenge you to write a “pastoral” poem. Traditionally, pastoral poems involved various shepherdesses and shepherds talking about love and fields, but yours can really just be a poem that engages with nature. One great way of going about this is simply to take a look outside your window, or take a walk around a local park. What’s happening in the yard and the trees? What’s blooming and what’s taking flight?

Today's poem and shout out goes to my Friend, Jesi. A beautiful soul and amazing poet. It is she who is like a star shining down on us all, bathing us is an ethereal light. Go check out her blog and writings! Toyou, Jesi, my Muse!! :-)

Pastoral Stardust 

When the sunshine breaks across the sea

and the last vestiges of the night steal away

is the moment when the stars yawn, sleepily

and the day is birthed anew.

And the last vestiges of the night steal away,

I am wrapped within the warmth of your arms

and the day is birthed anew, 

with a chance for joy and love to rejoice.

I am wrapped within the warmth of your arms,

watching the sunshine begin to dance across 

with the chance for joy and love to rejoice

in pastoral gales of pale green grass and sheep.

Watching the sunshine begin to dance across,

much like faeries flitting from flower to flower

in pastoral gales of pale green grass and sheep

and its like something out of a storybook.

Much like the faeries flitting from flower to flower--

my heart beats in rhythm with yours 

and it's like something out of a storybook,

when the hero is crowned king and his lady by his side.

My heart beats in rhythm with yours

is the moment when the stars yawn, sleepily

and when the hero is crowned king and his lady by his side--

when the sunshine breaks across the sea.

Now for my ON TIME check-in, the first one since Round 2 started. I knew this month was going to be tight, so I am glad that I still have enough focus to make ROW80 worth it. Oh, Dear Readers, it is always worth it, but I mean I definitely needed to refocus in April and May, to make this work, I am finally getting back on some sort track.

A Round of Words ion 80 Days, the blog challenge that know you have a life. Welcome to the Blog Hop!

This week:
   *Writing: on track with my challenges. I am finding a rhythm in the last third of the month, finally. I am pretty proud of my poems. I only opted out of two of the 22 daily prompts this month. Thinking, Dear Readers, that I will still try a fourteener and a sapphic poem. Well, the sapphic will wait until Summer. Oh the maths!!!
   *Reading: made a big dent in Murder in the Mews (Agatha Christie), it's an book of four short stories, so it is an easier read. I am not sure I will make the monthly goal of 4 books at this rate, but we shall see. There is still time.

This week (upcoming):
   *Reading: finish Murder in the Mews by Friday. Start Alysa of the Fields (might even listen to the audio version), I was part of the recording of the books, in the chorus with some oohs and aahs, and even a line. It was written by a local author, my Hubs is the lead hero.
   *Writing: work on writing the #writestuff monthly challenge piece
   *Submitting: look for a piece to submit to Toasted Cheese's summer contest, A Midsummer Tale. Entries are due by June 21, 20145.

Black Out Poetry: Alysa's Song

Today's Letter is R.

And R is for Rod.

My friend and fellow poet. Her get's a shout out for writing some of the MOST touching pieces of poetic masterpieces ever. His beauty in voicing the ugly side of depression or the love he has for his wife, or just plain playful fun. It ha been a pleasure to share my words with Rod (and Jesi and Lizzi too!) this month of poetic wonder and sometimes frustrating work at things such as fourteeners are sapphic poems. Right, Guys?!?!?

Also, today's topic involves Romantics.

Our prompt for today (optional, as always) is an old favorite – the erasure! This involves taking a pre-existing text and blacking out or erasing words, while leaving the placement of the remaining words intact. I’ve been working on an erasure project that involves an old guide to rose-growing.

My poem today is taken from my friend and fellow writer's book Alysa of the Fields, an epic adventure on a young woman who found the champion in herself! Go check out Tina Field Howe. There is a second book in the series The TrailFolk of Xunar-kun.

Today is a love poem for the romantics. Dear Readers, I hope you enjoy it!

Alysa's Song

Upon the Morning's sunrise,

she opened her eyes

and saw

his eyelids grin.

She touched her heart

and 

whispered,

You are the one.

Alysa of the Field art by Tina Field Howe

Q!

And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge to write a poem that states the things you know. For example, “The sky is blue” or “Pizza is my favorite food” or “The world’s smallest squid is Parateuthis tunicata. Each line can be a separate statement, or you can run them together. The things you “know” of course, might be facts, or they might be a little bit more like beliefs. Hopefully, this prompt will let your poem be grounded in specific facts, while also providing room for more abstract themes and ideas.

I went a little more introspective. Maybe it's my mood, or maybe I just have been thinking, but a little part of my heart just started to wonder. Hence today Letter of the Day for Blogging A to Z.

Q is for Quietly

For someone who can be pretty loud, even at the best of times. I do like a bit of quiet introspection and restorative writing. There's been a lot on my mind ranging from good to less good. I don't like to post negativity here, unless it's something to share and maybe help others. So, tonight's poem, Dear Readers, is one of simple truths and the humour behind some of those truths.

Quietly Contemplating

Have you ever noticed
that the birds sing in the morning
that the sun always rises in the east
and you only get perfectly comfortable
especially when the alarm suddenly goes off?

Or think about the times
when you noticed that the sky was blue
that rain makes the grass green
and the smell of a new book is the best
even after you're caught sniffing the books in the store?

Somewhere between the seconds
when your toe starts tapping in time
when you just need to sing along
because that one song came on the radio
and you see that the driver of the car next to you is watching you?

So why is it
that you are afraid to try something new
or tell someone that you love them
to live in the moment
that you are now contemplating after read this poem?

Okay, now, Dear Readers, a surprise. This is for Lizzi, my friend who write fantastic poetry about all manner of stuff. She write of love and truth, and much in between the two. She has an amazing flair of the Shakespeare tongue and rhymes like a beast. So tonight I dedicated this part of my blog to her. Go and check out her stuff at The Well Tempered Bards! Also I promised her that I would tell her about the surprises of my weekend. I went to my best friend from college's house warming party in Niagara Falls, NY and my friend, Laura whom is an artist and loves artsy thing desired to fill balloons with paint and throw them at a canvas. When completed and dried, the painting when be hung in her bedroom.

The photo below is of the first round of balloons and paint (with people) and the following photo is from Jamie (photo to the right) of the painting about mid way through the balloon tossing process.

Round 1 Paint and Friends

ROW80 check-in:
    *Writing: still made my daily NaPoWriMo and A to Z Challenge posts. That is about it though. This this weekend I was strapped for time and hanging with people. More on that later.

This Week:
    *What I put for last check in I am continuing into this week. I have some more free time this week, going to use it.

A Round of Words in 80 Day, a blog challenge that knows you have a life. Come over to the Hop, the Blog Hop and visit with us writers and bloggers.

Short and sweet: Landays

Today's prompt: A Landays

Landays are 22-syllable couplets, generally rhyming. The form comes from Afghanistan, where women often use it in verses that range from the sly and humorous to the deeply sardonic and melancholy and often composed in secret, and rarely written down. You could try to write a single landay – a hard-hitting couplet that shares some secret (or unspoken) truth, or you could try to write a poem that strings multiple landays together like stanzas (maybe something akin to a syllabic ghazal?)

Within the love I have given thee

and my heart is exposed to the whole world to see.

Short and sweet, Dear Readers tonight. I have fun thing to discuss tomorrow, so I leave you with today's poem. 

Terza Rima Sonnet - Pernese Call to War

Pern is for Pern (Anne McCaffrey)

The Pern series was my first fandom  that I fell into. I read the Dolphins of Pern in middle school. I was in

love with dolphin and dragons and the cover made me drool. So I read it and was in love. There was so much to Pern that appealed to me. Dragons, telepathic abilities, a non-technological world, adventure, and danger, what more could you ask for?

Oh, as I got older, I found more of Pern to love and some to hate. The non-theological basis for the world and the latter science based themes appealed to me even more. I read books, bought books, collected the harder to find books. I even made bubbly pies from the Dragonlover's Guide to Pern (2nd edition). A most excellent recipe for any fan to try.

After a while I wandered to other worlds, but would always come back. When Anne's son, Todd took of the mantle of Pern, I started reading the new generation of Pern stories. When Anne passed away in late 2011 I was crushed. She was a hero of mine and an amazing writer and a pioneer for women science fiction writers, with equally amazing, Andre Norton. Now, Todd has continued to write Pern stories (and I am about three or four books behind), but I thought that today's prompt would fit rather well with Pern's battle with Thread.

NaPoWriMo:
And now for our (as always, optional) prompt, which takes us from 2015 back to the 1700s. After all, it’s the eighteenth of April, which means that today is the 240th anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere! Today, in keeping with the theme of rush and warning, I challenge you to write a poem that involves an urgent journey and an important message. It could historical, mythical, entirely fictional, or memoir-ical.

I wrote a Terza Rima Sonnet about the call to Thread attack. A little homage to Anne and Pern in the feel of Paul Revere riding to call the colonists to action. I hope you enjoy, Dear Reader.

Poetric Style: Terza Rima Sonnet scheme - aba, bcb, cdc, ded, ee

Pernese Call to War

Anon is the hour for us to take flight
we are bound as one to join in the assault
Although our fears hold us in bitterly tight.

In the smell of Dragon's sweat we will exalt,
knowing that the coming Fall races to us--
hungry and mindless does it accomplish to vault

Across the black void of space it's course, dauntless
from the maleviolent Red Star of it's birth,
Thread is looking to conquer Pern's own greenness.

So to the sky surges the great Dragon's girth
in battle for the fair hand of gentle Pern.
And in victory we shall sing songs of mirth.

When the generations have passed, we must learn
of those first arrivals upon shores Southern.

ROW80 update:
   *Reading: finished The Dragon and the George (Gordon R. Dickson) and started Murder in the Mews (Agatha Christie).
   *Writing: have written everyday for NaPoWriMo, a 30 day poetry challenge and Blogging from A to Z, a challenge through the alphabet and can be about anything and everything. Come on over and check it out!!

Wish I had more, but it's been a busy month. I do have a couple small goals that I am working on. A Round of Words in 80 Days is a blog challenge that allows you to set goals and report on them on a Blog Hop and meet fellow writers. Come on in and set a spell!

This week:
    *Writing: write a 2500 word flash fiction for #writestuff monthly challenge. Try to write something for Toasted Cheese's spring/summer challenge, A Midsummer Tale.
    *Reading: finish Murder in the Mews and start Alysa of the Fields (Tina Field Howe).

Orgami and a Day on the Internet

O is for Origami (Blogging from A to Z)

Origami is supposed to be relaxing? I am not sure who said that. Or even what they thought they were trying to prove. Origami at 1:00 in the morning, when I have to go to training in the morning is the most stressful. But I had coffee at Denny's and need to burn off the caffeine some how.

So, I once bought a book of simple origami...

Yeah....

...about that, I still have NOT made everything shown in the book. There are some that I just cannot do. I can make (in abundance) cranes. I can make a mean paper crane and also a boat. Some days a cute little floral box. Not tonight though. See!

2 Cranes, a Boat, and a failed Floral Box

I am going to be outta town later Saturday through Sunday, so I need to get my crap organized. Housewarming and visit friends up in Buffalo. Good times, but not a lot of writing time. So...

NaPoWriMo:
Today's prompt is to write a poem about the internet. Well, that's in the broadest terms. IT's about social media and how it relates to you (as a person).

And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I want you to try to write a “social media”-style poem. Name check all of your friends. Quote from their texts, tweets, FB status updates, twitter accounts, and blog posts, and the back of the cereal box on your breakfast table. The poem is about you and you are about what you say, think, talk, eat. You might end up with a poem that seems bizarrely solipsistic (like the internet itself, maybe?), but there might also be a spark there of something live and fun and present (like the verbal equivalent of a really great animated cat .gif).

I went a little different with my focus. I decided that there are a lot of individual topics and concepts that I could use in a sort of Ode to a Day on the Internet. If I shifted through  all of my FB posts, tweets, and other social media sites I would be here for a while. I went with a little commentary. I hope you find my entry, Dear Readers amusing, if not a bit accurate portrayal of the internet's daily antics.

A Day on the Internet

When George Takei shares something witty

and the Whovians go to war

with the Game of thrones fandom;

it's just another day on the internet.

When you get fifteen requests for retweets

from total strangers about books,

birthdays,

and shout-outs;

it's just another day of the internet.

There's vaguebook statuses

like cold iron stares glaring

and you are not sure if they mean you;

it's just another day on the internet.

There's spambots

and

phishing

and

lots of junk mail for male enhancement.

Plenty of overly cute cat memes,

that flood your wall space

and duck face selfies

that seem like overkill

~BANG~

it's just another day on the internet.

But, there's the amazing connectivity

that brings people together,

sharing their stories

telling of love and 

joy and 

prejudices.

Of overcoming odds and making art

from Kickstarter to Patreon

and everything in between;

it's just another day on the internet.

Terzanelle: Into a Neil Story

Since I am such a Neil Gaiman fan and today's prompt is to write a terzanelle. I thought that I would write about the world that Neil creates. This fantastical and ethereal world that are usually tinted greys and nothing is quite the same as the real world.

Today is N for Neil Gaiman

Poetic Style: Terzanelle

Topic: Neil Gaiman's Worlds

Into a Neil Story

Dropped into a story one day

after I had fallen into repose,

the world as I knew it tinted grey.

Where rules followed laws make up in prose

everything looked quite similar

after I had fallen into repose.

I only had a moment before I saw her

standing there much like a plot device

and everything looked quite similar.

She looked at me and then twice

reaching for my hand slowly

standing there much like a plot device.

She thus said, "Take my hand and let us flee,

past the old castle ways and below..."

reaching for my hand slowly.

And I am running for my life through

and past the old castle ways and below.

Dropped into a story one day

the world as I knew it tinted grey.

Dear Poem and Answer....

I am clearly going meta on my poetry this week, Maybe it's because my mind took a three day vacation to ache with a nasty sinus headache, or maybe i just wanted to proclaim a little snark of my own on the interwebs.

Normally I don't get too meta on anything, but the last two days of NaPoWriMo prompts have tempted. They have tempted me bad!! Yesterday was "write a poem using dialogue between real people or personified things. I chose a write about a writer and her missing muse. Today the prompt was "to write a poem that addresses itself". Maybe I am still thinking like yesterday, but I chose to fashion the poem in letter format. It is in two part, basically a call and answer poem.

I think anyone you does NaPoWriMo, Blogging A to Z, or ROW80 will understand this feeling, the feeling of being at the mercy of the Muse. Calling upon her help by asking for divine inspiration when writing a Sapphic (right Jesi? Lizzi? Rod?)  maybe or just trying to find the words. I am right though?

Tonight poem is a free verse letter to my poem or any poem that I am writing, and thus the response that I ultimately get to my query. Dear Readers, I hope you enjoy.

Letter to a Poem and an Answer

Dear Poem,

Why do you always want
me--
To write of birds,
sunshine,
and love.

These are really is a silly things.

When I prefer to write and
rhyme in Pantoums,
Sonnets,
or Villanelles--
of spaghettios,
or beer.

But you didn't think that was possible.

Funny, it is how the muse
takes controls
at all the wrong times
and insists on
leaving when I most
have need of her.

Like she had another job to do or something.

And I am left to
write this poem
with what is around me.
Ode to Couscous
or, maybe
Acrostic about Cat Farts.

Really brain?

Why do I have to write this poem myself?

Yours,
The Writer

Dear Writer,

A muse is nice lass--
to inspire and
craft images into joyous stanzas
and marvelous rhyme.
Making the reader feel at one with the words.

But at the end of the day,
it is what YOU bring to the table.
What you write about
is what makes any poem truly great.

Yours,
Your Muse

Four Seasons

Today is M for Mucha (Alphonse). A Czech born artist that is most noted for his Art Noveau style of the feminine. His works is soft and gentle, but grabs your attention. In a number of ways his paintings remind me of a fantasy world, with these ethereal angels.

He has painted a number of pieces for illustrations, postcards, advertisements including the most famous one. Absinthe Robette!

He also has painted a series of painting about the life of the slavic people and their history. Many of works are greatly admired and inspired other artists, from painters and musicians.

It's easy to get lost in the magic of a bit Mucha's work. He ranks in my top five favourite artist for those very reasons. And although he is known more for his advertisement art than some of other works. Sometimes all you need is a little bit of magic.

Whom are your favourite artists, Dear Readrs? What art speaks to you? Do you write about your favourite art pieces or artists? In poetic form, or blog articles on their works and technique? I am fond of Van Gogh, Waterhouse, Mucha, and Monet.

A-Musing Phone Tag (see what I did there?)

I went a little outside the box today.  I took the concept of today's prompt and wrote a full dialogue and then whittled it down to a poem length. I had a bit fun with this one. A phone tag conversation between a writer and her muse. It's a little lengthy, but I am thinking of turning into a full 1 act. Hope you enjoy both versions.

Also, I am writing about the Muse of Lyric Poetry, Erato.

L is for Lyric Poetry

Today, I challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a dialogue. Your conversant could be real people, or be personifications, as in Andrew Marvell’s A Dialogue Between the Soul and the Body, or Yeats’ A Dialogue of Self and Soul. Like Marvell, and Yeats, you could alternate stanzas between your two speakers, or perhaps you could give them alternating lines. Your speakers could be personifications, like those in Marvell and Yeats’ poems, or they could be two real people. Hopefully, this prompt will give you a chance to represent different points of view in the same poem, or possibly to create a dramatic sense of movement and tension within the poem.

Topic: Phone Tag between Writer and Muse

Poet:
Hey Erato. I know it's been awhile. But, well I was wondering... I want to write a poem. Want to write it with me? Looking for inspiration.You going to be around?

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

Oh, come on, really? Fine.

Beep!

Okay, Eri, give me a call when you get in. Thanks! I am not doing anything tonight. Give me a call, please.

Poet:
Hey you, I'm waiting. Where are you? I know you're there. Pick up.

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

It's, Cin. Time to write a poem, Girl. I really need to talk to you.

Beep!

I'm serious. Why do you do this to me, right when I am totally ready to write. Leaving me here to sit in front of my blank computer screen. Waiting. Call me when you get in.

Poet:
Eri, are you home yet? I'm still waiting.

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

Really? Are you trying to irritate me, Girl? You cannot possibly still be out. I really can't write this all by myself.

Beep!

Please, Erato, give me a call as soon as you get home. I'll be up for a while. Prolly working late tonight on this poem.

Poet:
Eri, I feel asleep. You still haven't called.

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

I really in need your help, Eri. I don't think I can write this by myself.

Beep!

Everytime I try to write something about anything, I just end up with a blank screen and feeling irritated. I thought we were a team. What happened? I need you.

Poet:
Eri, it's Cin. I really need to talk to you. I'm on a deadline here...

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

Eri, if you are busy can I have Calli's or Euri's number?

Beep!

Please? I really need this. This is important...

Poet:
Okay, Erato. I'm done. You don't wanna help? Fine. I guess I will...

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.

...have to write this myself.

Beep!

Don't ever ask for my help then!

Muse:
Cin, it's Eri. I'm sorry I just got your messages. I was out with Calli and Euri, big job with the Boss. I mean HUGE!

Sorry, not here. Leave me a message.

Did you happen to finish your poem. I am so sorry that I didn't get back to you. I hope you aren't mad. Please give me a buzz. Will be around kicking back some ambrosia and playing the harp.

Beep!

You sounded really mad. Are you?

Muse:
Cin?

Sorry, not here. Leave me a message.

You haven't called me back. Are you really that mad at me?

Beep!

I have a fantastic idea for a song, wanna hear it?

Muse:
Eri here. I think I stepped in it big time. I'm sorry, Cin.

Sorry, not here. Leave me a message.

I am really sorry. I didn't mean to leave you in the lurch on this project.

Beep!


Call me, please.

When a Poet and Muse Talk

It's Cindy!

Cin, it's Eri.

~PAUSE~

Oh, hey.

You still mad?

~PAUSE~

Actually, no.

Did you finish that poem you were talking about?

I did.

And?

~PAUSE~

It made it on the calendar.

Wow! That's wonderful, Cin. Congrats!

~PAUSE~

Thanks!

~PAUSE~

So, what are you doing tonight?

Nothing.

Me neither. Wanna hang?

~PAUSE~

Actually yeah, I do. I'm missed you. I'm sorry.

Me too.

~PAUSE~

~LAUGHTER~

Even muses get busy.

Yeah?

Can I come over about seven?

Sure.

Cool! See you then?

Yeppers.

Bye. 

Toodles.

~~~~~~~~~

A brief update on my ROW80 progress. My weekend was a bit busy, but I got to see 6 new show grow organically awesome theatrical productions. How are you all doing, Dear Readers? What have you been up to?

This Week:

   *Reading: plowing through The Dragon and the George (Gordon R. Dickson).

   *Writing: making my daily goals for NaPoWriMo and Blogging A to Z. 

    

A Round of Words in 80 Days is a blog challenge that allows you to set your goals and report on your progress, sharing your experiences with fellow writers, and sharing your work with other. It is a Blog Hop! Come on in and stay awhile!