I’ve not been writing as much as I’d hoped, but I have been reading and listening to poetry, and writing when I can. This is a derangement of a poem by Wordsworth, “On the Projected Kendal and Windermere Railway.”
Against the wrong protest, constantly voice your strong torrents: winding, speaking, passing dead hearts, if they be human. And of nature, romance the beautiful peace and plead for rapture’s glance, the traveler given pause at the forest’s head. Seen in bright threat, baffled and thrown, random fields admit the pattern, are lured by false utility and scorn. Who bemoans the change, ruthless and musty, endured by this blighted parish? Blow hope to flowers, early and pure, kept busy in the world of youth, sown in retirement. Schemes assault the rash, secure in the ground of English, naked then, railed away: it is merely the wind, kindled on the project.
This week is so strange: crocus open beneath the ancient cherry tree as Russian bombs fall on the Mother of Cities; mask mandates drop and my head throbs with the whiplash weather. I feel I should be tough, resilient as the flowers, but my body betrays me with fevers, dark circles, a nagging cough, uneasy dreams – it knows things are really not okay, no matter what meditation apps, herbal teas, or vitamins I apply to this uncomfortable spring.
I read this blog post by Jeannine Hall Gailey a couple days ago, and images and thoughts from my own week coalesced around her words. The poem practically wrote itself.
The new year began on an exciting note with the Winter 2022 issue of Stick Figure Poetry, which contains my poem “Seattle Snow Storm.” I want to give a shout-out to Jeannine Hall Gailey, whose blog post from a couple years ago inspired the poem. Thank you, Jeannine, and thank you, Stick Figure Poetry!
And earlier in 2021, right before the second half of the year ate my lunch, two other poems of mine were published in Issue #2 of Jaden Magazine, a gorgeous publication of Small Leaf Press in the UK. One of them (“Shuffle”) can be seen in the left-hand column on the second preview page. Thank you, Candice and the rest of the Small Leaf team!
Here’s wishing for us all a year of new opportunities, new ideas, and new perspectives.
We’ve reached the end of Lexington Poetry Month, so here’s my wrap-up post. I wrote a poem all but two days, and double-posted several days when my schedule got a little nutty. All in all, I consider it a pretty successful poetry month.
We’ve reached the two-thirds mark in Lexington Poetry Month, so I thought I’d post again here on my own blog. I continue writing daily and posting at the LexPoMo site, and physical therapy has done wonders for my back.
We’ve reached the one-third mark in Lexington Poetry Month, so it’s about time I posted something here on my own blog. I’ve been writing daily and posting at the LexPoMo site, trying to meet an editing deadline, and nursing a nagging back injury that prevents me from sitting more than 20-60 minutes at a stretch (depending on the day).
Today is the last day of National Poetry Writing Month, but the writing will go on! My final poem for the month was inspired by the triolet form (though it’s not a triolet) and Maya Angelou’s “On the Pulse of Morning,” which was in the prompt from Adele Kenny’s poetry blog.
Praying for a dream
lift up your faces you have a piercing need which will not be moved despite its wrenching pain
lift up your faces but seek no haven a bordered country armed for slaughter
lift up your faces for a new beginning clad in peace you have a piercing need
I’ve been writing but haven’t had time to post. The poem for today’s prompt from Adele Kenny’s poetry blog is “The Hedgehog” by Paul Muldoon. I love his line breaks and how the last stanza takes the reader somewhere much more serious than the rest of the poem portends.
Reasons to Write Poetry, No. 427
Sometimes you start writing a poem as it comes to you line by line, and it turns suddenly in a direction you didn’t expect.