So I made myself start writing again because I had barely written 100 poems this year. When you write three-line poems, 100 of them isn’t very many. So I looked for some prompts on Pinterest and found a couple of good lists. I realized that I can use any kind of prompt for my writing; it doesn’t have to be a “poetry” prompt. So I am pinning lists of drawing, doodling, and art journal prompts, and I will try to write at least 100 poems a year from here on out. Sometimes when I get on a writing kick, like I did on Monday night, I can write 10 at one time. Especially when things are intense. I may write 3 poems on 1 situation.
This is an Israeli haiku, which is called a Kimo. I discovered it this year while doing the PAD Challenge. I was trying to fit this thought into a haiku and was having trouble getting the lines right when I remembered the Kimo. Its syllable count is 10/7/6. I think I like this poem, even though I had said it was awkward to do, I wrote two on Monday the 26th.
I keep trying to make myself fit into these boxes with lists of rules, then I get mad at the lists and leave the box. What do you guys think about all of that? Do you want to see the other one tomorrow?
accepting every freckle on my skin
learning to accept my tribe
many birds at the feeder
November 26, 2018
Day nine’s prompt is to write about “something substantial” so I chose one of my longer poems. I am getting the really fine lines around my eyes. I am approaching 32 and I am feeling my age. I don’t feel old, but I don’t feel 21 anymore. I am definitely in a new phase of my life. There are fewer weddings and more divorces, more graduations, fewer births. The funerals are far less surprising and come as often as anything else. It’s not a bad phase, it’s a comfortable phase. It’s easy to be complacent and just do the same ‘ol thing every week. But I try to be spontaneous and fun for my young son, and I try to stay in the know. I’m not dead yet!
As I shook out the blankets this morning
I found a black feather on the bed.
I haven’t seen them, but I see their tracks.
In the melting snow I see faint outlines
of crow’s feet.
The caw caw that rings from the trees
tells me that crows circle overhead.
Their shadows darken my days.
Crows like shiny things.
They weave silver into my hair
as I dream about my youth.
A shadow flutters across my face
lands at the corner of my eye
and I feel the wind on my cheek.
I hear not just the sound of the wind
but the sound of flapping wings.
They peck at my back and legs
while I try to cheer at ball games
making it hard to sit and hard to stand.
The tracks they leave become
dry river beds that have flash floods.
Their shadows chill me and make
me pray for the sun and its warmth.
I only catch glimpses of them
from the corner of my eye
but I know they circle me.
the blue jays caw loudly
growing a turtle’s shell
Being sensitive is a double-edged sword – you notice people’s emotions and reactions to things, which is beautiful and can make you feel very connected to humanity. You also feel it deeply when people don’t like you, or don’t like your friend, or don’t like your work. I have learned not to take any of it personally. I let myself feel the emotion of sadness, regret, or embarrassment or anger for a moment, then I move on. I am a creator and a giver. There are more words to write, more things to paint, and other people who will gladly accept what I have to offer, so I keep moving and I enjoy those moments when I get them.
birds search the mowed lawn for insects to eat
it’s easier to search when
someone does half the work
So I was looking through Robert Brewer’s list of forms for poets since he is the prompter for Poem A Day at Writer’s Digest. I found a couple different types of haiku and tanka. They aren’t called that, but basically, people took out some of the rules, or added the acceptable amount of syllables and renamed it. I had thought about trying all of them, but after 5+ years of trying to write haiku correctly, I don’t know if I can do it.
Today’s prompt was to write a poem about insects. Instead of choosing one, I just wrote about them generally. I also wrote a kimo which is an Israeli haiku. The poem focuses on one moment and does not have any rhyming. Haiku need to have fewer than 17 syllables, with the lines being short/long/short. The kimo is a descending poem with 10 syllables in the first line, 7 in the next, and then 6 in the last line. It was awkward writing it and that is how I know I don’t want to try the other forms.
despite the chaos
we still have fun together
a loud flock of birds
This poem was inspired by a #writtenriver prompt which you can find on Twitter. I keep waiting for life to calm down and get in a rhythm. I like rhythms, I like routine with short bouts of crazy. But the last two years have been crazy with bouts of routine. I don’t know if life will get calmer, but I am enjoying it. I am enjoying my son and my husband and doing life with people in my community.
birds shrouded in mist
they chirp knowing spring is
but a cloud away
Spring looks like it has already arrived in much of the USA. How does your area look?
my path to joy
swallows dipping in the sky
never a straight line
Today’s prompt was to write about something in nature. I had the image of swallows in my head and wanted to write about that. What do you think?
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birds chirping in the tree
whine of the metro
There was something about the juxtaposition of the sharp chirp of birdsong and the sharp whine of the metro in Washington D.C. The sounds of the metro have stayed with me. I have good hearing and there were times the sounds of the subway were almost deafening.
two blue birds
sing from the green bushes
my hand empty
I like it when I can take a proverb or well-known story and write about it in a different way. I am doing better with staying positive, but it is still an attitude/mindset that is hard to master.
flowers next to tomatoes
to keep away bugs
a fake owl for the birds
but no decoy for squirrels
We were supposed to write about Science today, but I just wasn’t feeling it. This tanka is what I came up with. My post tomorrow will come late in the day. Be sure to follow me on Facebook and Twitter. You can also sign up to follow this blog with your email.
leaving the cellphone inside
so I can hear the birds call
Are you setting limits? When was the last time you unplugged?
Emily seemed to absolutely love birds. I think they are okay, but I think she must have loved them.
Most she touched me by her muteness –
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure –
Plea itself – for Charity –
Were a Crumb my whole possession –
Were there famine in the land –
Were it my resource from starving –
Could I such a plea withstand –
Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky –
But he Crumb partook – departed –
And returned On High –
I supposed – when sudden
Such a Praise began
‘Twas the Winged Beggar –
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor