Posts Tagged ‘writing prompt’

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Poetry Challenge 17

April 22, 2009

Now that spring is on its way here in the Interior, we’re watching for little changes that mean we’re really done with winter. Willow buds puff out into pussywillows; low spots in the road fill with water during the warm parts of the day; geese, cranes, and ducks flock in to feed and rest on Creamer’s Field, then straggle north to breed. The big, unmistakable change will be when the ice goes out on the river in Nenana and we learn who had the best guess–and a little more spending money for summer projects.

So write about the small changes that happen where you are that signify a larger change. It doesn’t have to be about spring, or not just about spring. Focus on the little things and let us read through to the big ones.

Tags:, , , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | Leave a Comment »

Poetry Challenge 16

April 15, 2009

Memory

I think there’s an equation between memory and imagination. The more detailed our memory, the more imagination we use to supply that detail, which in turn allows us to invent poems or stories that are grounded in authentic detail. Both memory and imagination use the same areas of the mind.

So, pick a detail from an early memory. Enter into the memory of the detail, remembering with all five senses. Write about it without explaining or filling in what you now know.

Here’s a memory from Glow:

blue, red, and yellow birds
circled around my head
wingless endless loops
dipping soaring floating
tinkling in the breeze
from the overhead fan
flies, dazed with heat,
panted and crawled on the birds
my discovery of my toes and fingers
amazing to my eyes bleary from floaters
lilac so sweet floated among
smells of chicken frying
in the kitchen.
Black arms, hands with pink insides
pick me up, pet my parchment white skin,
cherry chocolate lips sing me ancient lullabies
lulling me with words about
birds and true love
and whispers of revolution.

Tags:, , , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 1 Comment »

Poetry Challenge 15

April 9, 2009

The Moon as Food

Tonight, the moon was first the color of orange sherbet, then crème brulee. It occurs to me that I often think of the moon in terms of food. What things that are not food do you think of in metaphors of food? Write about an object, an experience, a feeling and let food–such as strawberries, eggs, romaine lettuce–creep to the poem.

——————————————————–

Here are two responses from Glow, who loves food, dogs, kitties:

my fiddle teacher brings her dogs to her studio
one of them sighs when my bow screeches
the lemon sounds pucker her patience
she sighs and leaves the room
I have progressed over the weeks
now my bowing is less like sour lemons,
more like olives, heavy ripe, still tangy, often bitter
I have tried to sweeten my sounds
tried to avoid making the dog sigh
desperate for canine approval, or at least not canine rejection
I cooked up a new idea:
treats hidden among my music.
both dogs now lay unsquirming at my feet
seemingly eating up the lemon sounds
understanding that each squirt of screech
is rewarded by a stealthy tasty bit

—————————-

many orange cats
have woven and spun through my life
all but one of them male
many had food names
pumpkin for his roundness
persimmon, discovered in persimmon season
among ripe fly buzzing fruits scattered around him
sherbert, or bert for short, creamsickle color
orangeaid, a neighbor cat who stayed with us a year
then disappeared, only to reappear three years later
with one less ear
toklas, the subject of Stein’s lifting belly
sunny, a pool of orange sunshine and sunny disposition,
a melted puddle of frozen orange juice
hesitation named for the hestitation waltz,
the way he approached his food
that had to be placed under the bed
he was so freaked out by the LSD
previous owners had given him
And the one female orange kitty
no food name,
but named for joy and elation like food:
Jubilee.

—————————

My try at this one:

Waiting for rivers’
crack and slide, ice crashing
along banks, grinding
small rocks smaller,
the flat slabs
cutting the spring air
like slow sails, picking
up speed as dark water
seeps up, trickles, gushes.

Now, the ice, flat,
as birthday cake
a child has poked
a finger into here and there;
a few people wander the surface
or lean over holes, dangling
line, peering through slush
for the ripple of fins,
the dark running current.

The sun.
The bright gleam.

The waiting willows.
Memory of green things.

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 4 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 14

April 6, 2009

Defy Gravity

Inspired by the ballet. Write about gravity and what defies it–birds, the wind, climbing plants, a dancer. These things lift our spirits, but don’t say that in the poem. Let the object, gesture, scene do the lifting.

———————————————

Here’s my response, though it took me in a different direction–a different kind of gravity:

You, Walking

Birches stir
the restless air;
you walking
away, dog at your heels.

Your coat
drapes your shoulders
billows slightly
gray as spring clouds.

I pause, watching
in the car mirror–
your slow steps
over packed spring snow.

The sorrows of others
hang on you, but
imagination is vast,
cris-crossed with dreams
full of flying, of horses running,
of tomatoes, sweet
and warm on the palm.

Tags:, , , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | Leave a Comment »

Poetry Challenge 13

April 2, 2009

13 Ways

In honor of Poetry Month, and because this is Challenge 13, take a tip from Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.” Pick something at random–I once wrote one on a roll of masking tape–and write 13 short “views” of the thing, ranging from the minute view to the grand.

Stevens’ poem starts:

“Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.”

Here’s a link to the whole poem:

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15746

And here’s a site with poets who are writing a poem a day during April. Don’t know if I’ll be that ambitious.

http://peninkpaper.blogspot.com/

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 2 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 12

April 1, 2009

This challenge was sent by William Lawson at Cider Press (see Poetry Challenge 11).

A sentence for you: “If I had a magic wand, and could wave it only once, I’d…” And forget about what you think you should or ought to do…but try instead to imagine something “larger” than that; something as yet “unthunk.” (How’s that for a challenge?)

Tags:, , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 2 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 11

March 28, 2009

Lost and Found

Now that the snow is melting in some places–not yet here–think of all the things that reappear that you thought were lost.  Write about a lost thing that shows up again in an unlikely place.  Think of the stuff that falls from your pockets in the car, or the glove you’ve been looking for that’s been buried under snow, or the grocery list from months ago that turns up in a book, or an old friend reappearing.  Write abut the loss, the finding, or both.

————————————-

To see one response on Cider Press’  blog check:

http://ciderpress.wordpress.com/2009/03/30/impulsive-writing-16/#comment-46

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 2 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 10

March 15, 2009

Silence.

Stop what you are doing and listen. How silent is it, really? What is the most silent place you’ve ever been? How did it sound? Or write about the silence that occurs at odd moments in the day–between tasks, between places, between people. Sit in silence as you write and find the words that rise up there.

——————————————

Here’s a response from Glow at Beyond Ester:

the persimmon cat purred in his sleep
purred as he groomed himself
purred as his brother bit his neck
purred watching birds flit
purred while being brushed
purred while being stalked
purred while laying with dogs
purred at the vet’s office.

he purred on the couch
he purred on the bed
he purred on the table
he purred on the desk
he purred on the rug
he purred in the litter box.

the persimmon cat purred always.

October
when the persimmons for which he was named
thudded to the ground,
he replaced his purr with a yowl
a catawauling wail
a screeching hollar
a piercing scream.

on the way to the vet
in the car
for several minutes
the purr overtook the yowls
then the purr stopped.

now, silence in our house.
and a maple box inscribed
Persimmon: Purring Forever.

—————————

And another from Glow (hmmm…must be a good prompt)

late Saturday night
frantic knock
the neighbor shirtless shoeless in January
my house is on fire, he said.

we hurried
but there was nothing to be done
firemen bustled to no avail
water cast again and again

I expected brightness cast against trees
giant whooshing sounds
a cacophony of cracks and crashes
but flames are surprisingly dark
fire surprisingly silent
the heat gobbled up sound
sucked noise like air
seized and smothered talk
only soundless smoke
wordless ash
molten bits of house
dribbled among us
nothing for us to do
but watch in our newfound deafness

————————–

My response:

Potatoes
chopped in cubes
pale yellow, dropped
into broth. It bubbles,
the wood stove ticks,
small motors that smooth
our passage through the day
hum, though it’s now night.

In this noisy silence,
the dog’s faint snore,
a tulip petal falls
from its thin yellowing
stem, from the blue vase,
I hear words said
yesterday or before
and you, in bitter
cold dark, driving,
driving up the hill
with milk.

Tags:, , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 10 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 8

March 5, 2009

Out of  Order

OK, so I can’t count!

Here’s one from my composition classroom, suggested to me as a journal exercise by D.A. Bartlett–my long-time mentor.

Write about a process backward. Either start with the end result or write about undoing something. This could be a cake or an action you wish you could take back. Or play time backward. Or, like these poetry challenges, just write things out of order–add randomess.

———————————————

Glow and I seem to be on similar wavelengths–missing things.  She challenged me to add a poem.  I think I was influenced by hers! 

My response:

 

Spring reverses itself.
seeds arrive in the mail,
snow slides from the roof,
a large hill of it
blocks the door. We carve
steps in its slope
to get over it. The dog
can’t stop barking
at the sounds snow
makes. Icicles form,
glisten,

then the sky darkens
earlier than yesterday.
We go sliding
back to winter, snow
sifting all over hoods,
our shoulders, the cleared
driveway.

In the morning you leave
sharp tracks in the snow.

By now, they are gone.

————————————————-

And Glow’s

 

Despair was later, now anxiety
spun me through the woods
as I searched for the white cat.
The house was half empty, half full.
My things only, hers gone.
Her new lover’s truck
needing a valve job, I noted,
chugged down the drive
nearly backing into the fence.
The goats bleated watching
the antique bureau nearly dropped.
Just go, I said.
It’s true, she said.
You lied, I said.
She means nothing, she said.
You cheated on me, I said.
A strawberry blotch,
mouth-sized,
spread across her neck.
A blush gone awry.

The white cat lay dead in the moonlight
A copperhead slithered silently
after, and, I assume, before.
Maybe a slight rustle of leaves
a twitch of grass
was all that warned me
and the cat
of disaster.

——————————————

From Alaskapsych (not sure which challenge this is for):

Heraclitis et al

I stepped in the same river twice,
and twice again.
Time and tide waited for me,
dreaming,
I was awake

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 4 Comments »

Poetry Challenge 9

March 2, 2009

Found Poetry

Find a bit of language–overheard conversation, labels on an object, street signs, etc–and use it in a poem. Break the words apart from their usual sense. Surprise yourself with what’s contained in them. For example, in the Effie Kokrine class while we were listing phrases from a freewriting exercise on the board, one student said, “Energy drinks rock,” and I heard it as noun-verb-noun instead of adjective-noun-verb, so that in my mind, the energy was drinking the rock. A good start for a poem.

What do you find? What do you hear? What else does it bring to mind?

———————————–

Here’s a response from Glow:

ruby crescent fingerlings
fat small doggie paws
swamp mama’s greatest
persimmon fur pie

the verse repeats
the new celtic fiddle restrings
the cats peek out from under
blood gushes, snow flitters

I play at night before bed
dream characters sing all night
I wake up with music
skimming through my head

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in Poetry Challenge | 3 Comments »

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »