I was hoping more people would join in--because Kelly is, in a word, amazing. Her prompts, the poems she finds and shares, her teaching. She draws interesting / talented writers to her, and this time was no different. I know people are busy enjoying the magic of summer. But really the lessons and prompts don't have to be enjoyed chronologically. I'm trying to engage with all of them because I can always use some accountability for myself. And I love magic and am dying to make my poems more magical. I already revised one of my Kelly-magic prompt poems and am confident enough that included it in some submission packets :)
I agree! And I love this. Usually what I post here are first drafts and I'm looking forward to having time to come back and shorten, shape, cut out the extraneous. Also had my birthday (see below) and final exams this week, so I'm behind, but I'm here / catching up when I can!
Breakups, the ones that are your choice, bring magic. (The other kind can too, but it’s deeper, harder to mine out of that hard earth.) There’s newness to be uncovered. A new version of you, sorting out what likes were yours and what likes you arrived at via compromise. New routines to sow in new soil. New paths to explore near your new Place Called Home. Curiosity. Hunger. Abundance. Luminosity.
Currently, I’m soaking in this state. Choosing the magic and letting it choose me back, a dry sponge thrown into a full bathtub. Reading by candlelight every evening unless it’s an audiobook night. Bringing home flowers for my kitchen just because. Walking by the river in the morning, my ears taking notes from mourning doves, laughing children, lapping water. Writing, and trading comments with a poetry group.
This Sunday was 33. I invited a friend to a sauna and hot springs complex that offers free entrance on your birthday. He doesn’t enjoy saunas but offered breakfast: in a light-filled café, crisp air, mouth-melting croissants, bursting tomatoes, cheese. Then, mile walk to the sauna. An invitation for ice cream whenever I’ve gotten my fill of temperature-shocking my body. Pure sweat. Ice-massage shower. Honey-rub cleansing. Cold plunge. Rest in a room of meditation-inducing geometric design art. Desert sauna. Steam sauna. Aroma sauna.
With ice cream on the balcony, we talked for two hours. In my state of enchantment and serenity, I could have gotten a stallion near catatonic blood pressure levels, and my friend is more gentle giraffe than raging stallion to begin with. He accepted my invitation to Wonder, and we traded languages and stories and questions about Life and Meaning. Explored possibilities. Floated on the words, wherever they led. Let friendship wrap its arms around us and invite us deeper.
Sometimes you don’t have to go out of your way to bring magic to others. Some days, you just have to bring the current iteration of you and set her loose.
Wow, there are lots of poems in here. So many things I could comment on, but oddly what's most intriguing is the dry sponge thrown into a full bathtub. I say oddly because 'soak up like a sponge' is cliche. I wonder if you could really extend the metaphor of the sponge and have it do some surprising things. Just a thought.
I was hoping more people would join in--because Kelly is, in a word, amazing. Her prompts, the poems she finds and shares, her teaching. She draws interesting / talented writers to her, and this time was no different. I know people are busy enjoying the magic of summer. But really the lessons and prompts don't have to be enjoyed chronologically. I'm trying to engage with all of them because I can always use some accountability for myself. And I love magic and am dying to make my poems more magical. I already revised one of my Kelly-magic prompt poems and am confident enough that included it in some submission packets :)
So glad you are enjoying the prompts. So happy you're here, T. Thanks for the kind words and all the amazing stuff you've written!
I agree! And I love this. Usually what I post here are first drafts and I'm looking forward to having time to come back and shorten, shape, cut out the extraneous. Also had my birthday (see below) and final exams this week, so I'm behind, but I'm here / catching up when I can!
Breakups, the ones that are your choice, bring magic. (The other kind can too, but it’s deeper, harder to mine out of that hard earth.) There’s newness to be uncovered. A new version of you, sorting out what likes were yours and what likes you arrived at via compromise. New routines to sow in new soil. New paths to explore near your new Place Called Home. Curiosity. Hunger. Abundance. Luminosity.
Currently, I’m soaking in this state. Choosing the magic and letting it choose me back, a dry sponge thrown into a full bathtub. Reading by candlelight every evening unless it’s an audiobook night. Bringing home flowers for my kitchen just because. Walking by the river in the morning, my ears taking notes from mourning doves, laughing children, lapping water. Writing, and trading comments with a poetry group.
This Sunday was 33. I invited a friend to a sauna and hot springs complex that offers free entrance on your birthday. He doesn’t enjoy saunas but offered breakfast: in a light-filled café, crisp air, mouth-melting croissants, bursting tomatoes, cheese. Then, mile walk to the sauna. An invitation for ice cream whenever I’ve gotten my fill of temperature-shocking my body. Pure sweat. Ice-massage shower. Honey-rub cleansing. Cold plunge. Rest in a room of meditation-inducing geometric design art. Desert sauna. Steam sauna. Aroma sauna.
With ice cream on the balcony, we talked for two hours. In my state of enchantment and serenity, I could have gotten a stallion near catatonic blood pressure levels, and my friend is more gentle giraffe than raging stallion to begin with. He accepted my invitation to Wonder, and we traded languages and stories and questions about Life and Meaning. Explored possibilities. Floated on the words, wherever they led. Let friendship wrap its arms around us and invite us deeper.
Sometimes you don’t have to go out of your way to bring magic to others. Some days, you just have to bring the current iteration of you and set her loose.
Wow, there are lots of poems in here. So many things I could comment on, but oddly what's most intriguing is the dry sponge thrown into a full bathtub. I say oddly because 'soak up like a sponge' is cliche. I wonder if you could really extend the metaphor of the sponge and have it do some surprising things. Just a thought.
I was wondering if I could get away with that by rephrasing, so it’s good to know that that’s a “maybe not” unless I do more with it :-) thanks!
I honestly don’t think cliches are bad things. It’s fun to play with them and find new surprises in them :)