I loved the movement from "whether or not I feel ready" to "I never feel ready" to "I love never feeling ready and doing it all anyway." So much wisdom and humility in that. Also, mention of a harpy! You already had me by that point, but that guaranteed my attention to the end :-) "with a hmmmm and a huh / interesting" I found great, too.
Sarah, as with Tresha's poem, I love the journey this poem takes us on, though hers is one of acceptance of what is happening and yours is one of anticipation of what will happen. . The ' alarm clock. . .ancient brass bowls.' 'never feel ready. I love / never feeling ready. . .' and Nancy Drew at the end--yes!
This feels like a coming of age poem, in a way. A story of maturing. I liked the line "finding something interesting to snap up, / to write down." Felt musical to me.
I was excited to see that you used your own prompt. . .Love 'Lipstick the color of a dusty rose you carried / down the aisle.' The the poem makes an expected / unexpected / awesome turn to aging / maturity. The 'dusty' is a foreshadowing of the turn, which I love. I'm thinking about this as a prompt response. Does the speaker love the aging process? Thanks for this--it's really making me rethink Kelly's question 'How can you celebrate the awe of each experience?'
So happy to hear your thoughts, TR. I really did get started in response to Kelly's initial idea, but the question about getting past the expected sunsets, etc., really helped me focus in. My purse and its contents are always so strange. I figured there must be some poetry in there along with the cough drops and lipstick. Hahaha!
The rosemary in this poem delivered a wonderful multi-sensory moment for me! The surprising nature of your images pulled me right through this piece. There's something a little haunting to it.
Nice! You found the kinds of surprising images that eluded me. So many good ones, but my favorites are ‘tea lights / throwing monstrous shadows on the wall’ and ‘every swirled thing is a snail’, and the internal rhyme with ‘rail’
Thank you! I took a picture two nights ago to accompany the tea lights/monstrous shadows image :-) If you ever come to Germany, cinnamon buns are "cinnamon snails," cheese-swirl pastries are "cheese snails," your cochlea is your "hearing snail," etc. -- amused me as a language learner!
Yes! It fits perfectly. I tried this prompt, but kept thinking of the ‘expected’ things I love about my life—pretty sunsets, etc. I was trying to think of strange / surprising things, but struggled
Try looking in your purse, your backpack, your pantry, under the bed. What is there? Those are where you will find the small things people don't usually sing about.
I made a few stabs at this, including thinking about Tresha's intriguing ideas, but everything I did just felt like a Chloe Martinez wannabe poem--and imitations can be awesome, don't get me wrong--but I didn't like any of my attempts. Then I thought back to a convo I had with a friend (someone who's not easy to be friends with) during the Pandemic. In response to a love poem I showed him (about another guy, lol) he challenged me to write a list of the ten things I love most in the world in order from 1-10. It led to a passionate convo where he said he didn't mean write 'things' I love, but 'people' I love. I asked, 'how do you expect me to rank the people I love?' I need to dig up that list of 'things' that he thought was so dumb. Because it's really not 'things' that we love. It's what those 'things' represent. Probably not a short poem. Maybe that's my next heroic sonnet crown challenge, lol. Maybe I'll post some of it in response to this magical challenge. Loving the discussions here :)
Late to the game, but I LOVED this prompt so adding my own response here:
Title: New Case
After Chloe Martinez, after Dorianne Laux.
I’m in love with you, warm fingers of light
prying the window edges at dawn. I love
you, alarm clock hum like the rippling song
of ancient brass bowls. Sure, I may groan
as you rattle my ear drums back to life. But
I love you. As I love this sleepy dog waggling
his white flag tail, his loud whines insisting
I let my tea grow tepid on the counter
to present myself before the neighbors, out
on the street. Whether or not my teeth
have been brushed, whether or not
I feel ready. And I never feel ready. I love
never feeling ready and doing it all
anyway. The scariest moments are those
I am not prepared for (most of them).
Yes, I love even you, my shrill harpy
interior voice. I love knowing you’ll trail
off when I tell you who is in charge
today. I love you, today with all your maybes. Today
I love approaching you slowly. Finger to chin
looking closely, with a hmmmm and a huh
interesting. Like some regular Nancy Drew
with an exciting new case
on her hands.
I loved the movement from "whether or not I feel ready" to "I never feel ready" to "I love never feeling ready and doing it all anyway." So much wisdom and humility in that. Also, mention of a harpy! You already had me by that point, but that guaranteed my attention to the end :-) "with a hmmmm and a huh / interesting" I found great, too.
"I love you today with all of your maybes." Yes!
Sarah, as with Tresha's poem, I love the journey this poem takes us on, though hers is one of acceptance of what is happening and yours is one of anticipation of what will happen. . The ' alarm clock. . .ancient brass bowls.' 'never feel ready. I love / never feeling ready. . .' and Nancy Drew at the end--yes!
Check Your Purse
There’s every memory in the world in there.
Lipstick the color of a dusty rose you carried
down the aisle. A half-broken eye brow pencil
You used to write down a number on a napkin, your phone
full of photos, because you're always Making friends with a flower
on the side of the road, or finding something interesting to snap up,
to write down. It's what's important. Why you keep moving around.
In all kinds of weather. Why you must cary an umbrella, folded and barely fitting
Next to the novel you read, one-page at a time,
While waiting in lines. Closed up now and nested
next to the cough drops you carry. The iboprofen to prevent a backache,
hangover, headache of any kind. You're older now and know things.
Like how to keep a journal, who to call in case of an emergency,
or what to take to prevent getting sick.
Especially now, when you have that trip to Kansas City
Coming. The One where you will see your old friends
From L.A., and write poems over pints of mid-western beer,
Squeezing in time for one another's lives, like slices of nostalgia.
You were young together once, passing around pipes.
Now you bring an extra bag of vitamin drops
They taste like oranges, and everyone is surprised
you managed to do something useful. You assure them you haven't
changed, and if they want more, come to you.
You've thought of everything this trip. All the ways things can go wrong
in one weekend. That's why you brought extra
paper, pencils, vitamins. This is the pleasure of aging.
No more writing things down with a broken
make-up crayon. If anyone needs anything, don't worry,
you have it. You remembered to bring it, to pack extras, to carry with you, a seemingly endless supply.
This feels like a coming of age poem, in a way. A story of maturing. I liked the line "finding something interesting to snap up, / to write down." Felt musical to me.
I was excited to see that you used your own prompt. . .Love 'Lipstick the color of a dusty rose you carried / down the aisle.' The the poem makes an expected / unexpected / awesome turn to aging / maturity. The 'dusty' is a foreshadowing of the turn, which I love. I'm thinking about this as a prompt response. Does the speaker love the aging process? Thanks for this--it's really making me rethink Kelly's question 'How can you celebrate the awe of each experience?'
So happy to hear your thoughts, TR. I really did get started in response to Kelly's initial idea, but the question about getting past the expected sunsets, etc., really helped me focus in. My purse and its contents are always so strange. I figured there must be some poetry in there along with the cough drops and lipstick. Hahaha!
Glad the sunsets helped :) I added another comment to the thread. I think I just thought of my next 'big' poem. . .
Love the maturing present here, and the inclusio of how to write things down at the start and end. I like the idea of "slices" of nostalgia, too!
July
The gift of a July storm. Purple-white
lightning illuminating bell towers
like a scene from a Gothic novel. Rain,
louder than everything. Post-tempest
sunrises, serene cerulean. Tea lights
throwing monstrous shadows on the wall:
the ghosts of yesterday’s flowers. Reading
poetry while listening to French pop. German,
my kitchen companion. The walk home
in the fading rain. I love living
in a country where rosemary grows
between the tracks of the light rail, where
every swirled thing is a snail, where the
daily ride to work offers mares and foals,
their fuzzy newness in the world so tender,
so soft, so green I smell pine. I stop to take
pictures of Beauty everywhere I find it,
disregarding the stares. In this country,
sunlight turns into falling water, swans sojourn
in every wet place, bells ring the hours,
and home is every cloud, every sky,
every foal.
The rosemary in this poem delivered a wonderful multi-sensory moment for me! The surprising nature of your images pulled me right through this piece. There's something a little haunting to it.
Thank you so much! I have been working on imagery a lot lately, so it's helpful to know when it's working.
Nice! You found the kinds of surprising images that eluded me. So many good ones, but my favorites are ‘tea lights / throwing monstrous shadows on the wall’ and ‘every swirled thing is a snail’, and the internal rhyme with ‘rail’
Thank you! I took a picture two nights ago to accompany the tea lights/monstrous shadows image :-) If you ever come to Germany, cinnamon buns are "cinnamon snails," cheese-swirl pastries are "cheese snails," your cochlea is your "hearing snail," etc. -- amused me as a language learner!
This isn't my poem, but I just read it this morning and I think it totally fits this prompt. Enjoy.
There You Are
There you are
this cold day
boiling the water on the stove
pouring the herbs into the pot
hawthorn, rose;
buying the tulips
& looking at them, holding
your heart in your hands at the table
saying please, please to nobody else
here in the kitchen with you.
How hard, how heavy this all is.
How beautiful, these things you do,
in case they help, these things you do
which, although you haven’t said it yet,
say that you want to live.
I read this too. It is gorgeous. For those wondering it is Victoria Adukwei Bulley's "There You Are":)
Thanks for giving the attribution, Kelly. I totally missed it when I copied and pasted. Adukwei Bulley is amazing!
Yes! It fits perfectly. I tried this prompt, but kept thinking of the ‘expected’ things I love about my life—pretty sunsets, etc. I was trying to think of strange / surprising things, but struggled
Try looking in your purse, your backpack, your pantry, under the bed. What is there? Those are where you will find the small things people don't usually sing about.
I put my money where my mouth is and shared my purse poem in the thread : )
I made a few stabs at this, including thinking about Tresha's intriguing ideas, but everything I did just felt like a Chloe Martinez wannabe poem--and imitations can be awesome, don't get me wrong--but I didn't like any of my attempts. Then I thought back to a convo I had with a friend (someone who's not easy to be friends with) during the Pandemic. In response to a love poem I showed him (about another guy, lol) he challenged me to write a list of the ten things I love most in the world in order from 1-10. It led to a passionate convo where he said he didn't mean write 'things' I love, but 'people' I love. I asked, 'how do you expect me to rank the people I love?' I need to dig up that list of 'things' that he thought was so dumb. Because it's really not 'things' that we love. It's what those 'things' represent. Probably not a short poem. Maybe that's my next heroic sonnet crown challenge, lol. Maybe I'll post some of it in response to this magical challenge. Loving the discussions here :)