Tag Archives: 30-day writing challenge

September successes

I did it! I wrote a poem every day during the month of September!

You’ll notice I didn’t post a poem for each day; in fact, I stopped posting after September 10. This was another success in that it led directly to the above-mentioned success. By letting go of posting, I freed myself from the double tyrannies of time and quality. More than once I crawled into bed and realized I hadn’t written that day, so I took a few moments to scrawl something in the back of my crossword book. This worked surprisingly well, because I found myself revising when I later transcribed those notes into my writing journal.

I didn’t produce much of great merit, but I learned valuable things about process. Many end-of-the-day scribbles captured poems that had formed in mind earlier and might otherwise have been lost. And because I periodically comb through my writing journal for inspiration, some of those phrases or ideas might yield something better down the road.

All in all, it was a good experience and one I plan to leverage come November, when I’ll piggy-back on the energy of NaNoWriMo to propel my own writing.

Happy October!

A ghost leaf (that’s what I call them) from the neighbor’s sweetgum tree.

The one-third mark

We’re a third of the way through September and I’ve managed to compose a poem every day so far. Those short poems have done a good job of keeping my head in the game when I don’t have much time to write.

(Sep 9)

Willow is the emo child
of the Deciduous family,
bangs forever hanging
across her face.

(Sep 10)

This was inspired by an event in early April and a post at Formidable Woman Sanctuary: https://formidablewoman.org/2020/07/14/wardrobe-escapee-what-happened/

The pandemic in two small items of clothing

While walking on my street –
a street that goes nowhere
and leads to nothing, just circles
around the neighborhood
and back on itself – I saw
a pair of crew socks in the road
like they’d fallen off the roof
of a car or been dropped.

Separated, slumped, bedraggled,
abandoned – I felt as lost
as they appeared and as full
of unanswered questions.

It really is September…

A little behind as usual…

Four poems in a single post sounds like a lot, but they’re small so it’s not really.

(Sep 4)

chainsaws roar
wood chippers growl
so homeowners don’t have to hear
the weeping of trees

(Sep 5)

In one of those odd
slips of the mind, I saw
“boardroom” but read
“boredom” instead.

(Sep 6)

Ever the late bloomer

I just want to sit and read
or write or crochet now that my brain
has shaken off its pandemic

paralysis, but the world is back
at full throttle and I missed my chance
to savor the quiet unfolding

(Sep 7)

Outdoor poetry circle

Poets occupy the four corners
of the deck, safely distant
but close enough to hear
over the güiro of cicadas.

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Güiro)

And now for the garden photo:

Hibiscus moscheutos ‘Blue River II’ reblooming!

30 days hath September…

August wasn’t a total bust, writing-wise, but I didn’t set any records. I’ve decided it was a fallow period in which my brain rested from writing, though I did a fair amount of reading and tending to domestic matters.

September doesn’t belong to any special writing category that I know of, probably because it’s when a lot of people go back to school. But it is a 30-day month, and thus ripe for some kind of writing challenge. Indeed, a quick search turned up a boatload of September writing challenge prompts, as well as a number of generic 30-day writing challenges that fit.

In the spirit of those challenges, I’ve decided I want to write something each day this month, just to keep myself going. Work and family have demanded a lot of time of late, so I am composing in my head during small, stolen moments and trying to commit the results to memory until I can record them.

Here are the first three days’ efforts, followed by a photo from the garden.

(Sep 1)

This day has been too many
weeks long; this morning
I thought of a poem,
but now it’s gone.

(Sep 2)

Of time and timing

I have lost five poems
for every poem I’ve written
because they came to me
at inopportune moments.

(Sep 3)

Tired and frustrated,
I pen short poems that feel
like haiku but aren’t:
a new American form?

And now, the promised garden photo:

Sedum ‘Matrona’ with garlic chives. A bit of salvia ‘Black and Blue’ in the upper right, along with a couple of flies and a goldenrod soldier beetle (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus).