Day 10 !! #introtopoetry

DUGHLO7780

Wacky doo! I’ve made it. A whole ten days of writing poetry. I started as a total newbie to adult poetry and I finish humbled.  Now I have no doubts that a poet’s lot is wearying and soul-wrenching. I’m spent. But I’ve learnt so much about form and technique. I’ve written verse that I never would have considered without the prompts and the guidance.  Thanks to wordpress and my fellow participants for sharing the journey.

The last challenge, the sonnet, was well left to last because, for me, this was the toughest. It seemed wrong for an amateur like me to tackle such an esteemed form. After hours I gave up on iambic pentameter but chose the Shakespearean rhyming scheme. I stayed up till after  midnight writing my first effort ‘Finding My Voice,’ but all night it needled at me. Was my one and only contribution to the world of sonnets going to be so ego-centric? So this morning I wrote another ‘Beautiful Hurting Earth’ which eased my mind a little.

Prompt: The future

Form:  The sonnet

 

Beautiful Hurting Earth

Oh, beautiful, blue hurting sphere,

Spinning around a brilliant, burning sun.

Will our tenure be short? Our end near?

In your eons is our race close to run.

Can we overcome the hatred and the greed?

Can your welfare come before the politic?

Can we work as one in our dire hour of need?

Or are we doomed to obstinance and rhetoric.

Alternatives to belching, dirty fossil fuel.

Alternatives to wrenching, ugly, useless war.

And yet we choose the deadly and the cruel.

For who? Not you and I. We want no more.

Don’t we all want an earth where those we hold dear,

Can live and breathe without ignorance and fear.

 

Finding My Voice

William the bard says life is but a play.

Actors all, we join the mighty rolling cast.

But taking the stage has not been my way –

For, without the clapping crowd the show won’t last,

And understudy, dresser, stagehand,

As well, I’ve done those parts, without regret.

Time turns and now it’s right for me to stand,

To find my voice, a role for this old girl yet.

I’ll sing a ballad, pen a poem, paint a green sea,

Stroll beaches, walk hills and in the valley camp

Write till late, write a play, write a book or three

I’ll play the artist, the writer, and the tramp.

My future’s mine to shape. If I may be so bold,

But shaping is not knowing what the years will hold.

 

 

 

 

 

Day 9 #introtopoetry

Prompt : Landscape

Form:  Apostrophe (a form where an absent/imaginary person, abstract idea or thing is personified and addressed directly)

bush track

The Bush Trail

When the ground’s

too hard, my body soft,

Beckon me.

When life’s a grind

And the air stifles

Whisper to me.

Don’t hold your wild

secrets close.

Invite me.

O’ wend and wander.

Rise and fall.

Inexplicably offer

More ups

Than downs.

Feel them pass

those who seek

only conquest.

But O’ let me

Linger, listen, heal

Explore, breath, feel

You.

Lead me on through

Humbling forests

To vast vistas.

Down fern gullies

O’er trickling streams,

To the end, our parting,

Bittersweet.

You ask for nothing

And give me peace.

 

Day 8 #introtopoetry

list with border

Prompt : Pleasure

Device : Anaphora (repetition of a word/phrase at the beginning of a line)

 

Lists

Lists for shopping – bread, milk and jam

Lists for camping – torches, hat, billy can

Lists of party invitees – Robert, Jill and Sam

Lists have their place,

They free brainspace –

Then there’s,

Lists to do before you die.

The bucket list’s the trend.

Check, a show on west end

Check, the northern lights

Check, Egyptian sights

Check, a polar bear, French cycle, Machu Picchu trek

Check, Check, Check.

But what if you should die before the list’s complete?

Do you lie on death’s bed with thoughts of rank defeat?

Or worse, the list’s through, well before your dying day

Is there nothing left to live for? Will your life just slip away?

Lists they don’t account, for the unbidden and the free,

A yellow moon, a friend’s smile, a perfect sip of tea.

A small gift wrapped with love and care

That funny story just made to share

So let life’s pleasures be

and leave the

Lists for shopping.

Lists for camping.

Lists for party invitees.

 

Day 7 #introtopoetry

tea collage 2

Today’s poetic form is the strangest we’ve been challenged with. I think it needs a little explanation in case you thought I had gone a little crazy or was trying to be deliberately cryptic.  A found poem is derived from collected words eg from newspaper articles, books, social media, book spines or twitter feeds. There is actually an app that will write you a poem from words collected from your twitter feed poetweet but alas I didn’t have enough for it to trawl through.

The prompt for this week was flavour. So I asked myself; what is the flavour that is most important to me ? – that would be tea. I decided to use a book on my shelf titled , Tea – the drink that changed the world by Laura C. Martin, as the source of my found words. Also I am a little superstitious (in a good way)  around the number eleven. I turned to a page with the number 11 on it (this one was 211) and chose every eleventh word. If I struck a conjunction or pronoun or other small word I would go to the next verb, adjective or noun. I ended up with an assortment of words which I rearranged into… well, another assortment of words. The title is from my word list as well.

Prompt: Flavour

Form: Found poem

 

A Little Tea-tasting

Undesirable leaves.

Smoky, burning

Drying, withered.

Sweet, improper chamomile.

Desirable teas

Steamed, wispy

Earthy, smooth touch

Smell, flavours linger.

 

tea book

This lovely book was the source of my ‘found’ words

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 6 #introtopoetry

Prompt:  Screens

Device :  Enjambment  (don’t know what this is? – I didn’t either. It means splitting a sentence or clause over line-break with no end punctuation eg comma.)

2D life

Tablet threatens

To touch your nose.

Blind

To dewdrops on the rose.

Ears plugged,

Phone pinging.screen burst poem

Deaf

To magpie’s dawn singing.

2D monsters swim

Before your eyes.

Miss

Lightning crack stormy skies.

Hit like. 800 friends you

Do not know.

Forget

How conversations flow.

Eat with family,

Head bent.

Never

Ask how their day went.

Feeling lost and blue,

Screen friends

Can’t

Hug you.

Day 5 #introtopoetry

Woo hoo! I made it half way. And a fun way to reach the middle mark is with a limerick challenge – here’s my two efforts.

Prompt: Imperfect

Form: Limerickleprechaun

 

It’s hard to find the right line

To fit with the beat and the rhyme.

I gave it a shot,

But Yeats it is not.

I’ll try a bit harder next time.

 

Next time….

 

There was a young man named Steven,

Who had some trouble believin’.

When they called, “Fire, Fire”

He replied, “Liar, Liar”

And now his young wife is a-grievin’.

 

 

 

 

 

Day 4 #introtopoetry

Path to sea

Prompt:  Journey

Device:  Simile

At Journey’s End

Like an undemanding lover

Patiently you wait for my return.

Although I’ve laid with others,

You forgive –

my fickle ways.

I know your lumps and dips

And unfashionable,

Squishy bits

And the way the seabreeze

Caresses me

When I lie in your embrace.

Oh, those that I’ve endured,

The low and barely stable,

The smelly and the squeaky

And the just too-perfect,

Crisply starched.

Curse, the ocean-going ones,

All sickening and rocky.

The hard hip-breaking types

Under canvass,

Flapping and leaky

Soon this house

Won’t hold me and

I’ll wander once again.

But there’s comfort in knowing

My own bed’s at

Journey’s end.