Happy World Poetry Day! An Audio Gift for You in Celebration #WorldPoetryDay

I recorded two of my favorite poems from thus far in 2010 and offer them here, along with the original posts - in celebration of World Poetry Day, 2010. I usually offer my poetry on my separate poetry blog, which you may find by clicking here.

Both came as a response to prompts from ReadWritePoem.Org, where poets - of all levels of expertise - may participate in April's National Poetry Writing Month. I am writing two of the prompts for that celebration.

Here, my words, for you.

The poetry prompt from ReadWritePoem.Org last week’s “Get Your Poem On” was like going to a poetry writing spa: we cleansed ourselves of our normal, unconscious habits through reviewing our recent work and were compelled to write poetry differently this week.

 

I was busy getting the play First Kisses off the ground. I practically moved into the theater so it has taken me this long to get my spa treatment completed. I hope you enjoy it.

 

The one convention I kept which is fairly usual for me is that each line is a matching syllable count. Counting syllables is a usual thing for both Haiku and Fibonacci, yet I don’t count as much for free verse style poems unless…

 

I also noticed that while I switch up first person voice (this is for romantic poems or visceral, emotional “here is what I am feeling right now” poems) and third person voice, I consistently write as a sentient being. I rarely personify a non sentient object – so this poem, today – is written from that perspective… you will more than likely recognize the object’s voice soon after you begin to read.

 

The most overused words I use include “croon”, specifically, and words that employ the use of onomatopoeia. I must be more auditory in my writing than I thought I was. Several times in my most recent poems I used “rat-a-tat” or “pitter pat” and yes, I apparently am enamored with soles and souls. I tend to admire homonyms, another sound-thing.

 

Finally, most of my poetry tends toward Divinity – meaning there is either a

blatantly Divine thread or a quieter Divine thread within the writing. I finished this one and I am not sure, some of you may see some of that unmistakable something peeking through the last few lines. I like to think of it as more of a “Wake up, fool!” thing that will be seen by those who are ready to see it. Otherwise, it would go unnoticed.

 

Let me know what you think.

 

I Give You

 

You push me

And walk through

You pull me

To Keep Out

Other feet

You barely

Notice my

Peeling paint

Or the note

Jehovah

Witnesses

Left right there

You don’t look

You don’t pause

You don’t thank

Me, ever

For my work

Tireless, here

For you. I

Let you in

Keep them out

Hold wind back

Push rain down

The gutter

And what thanks

Do you give?

Here you come

Again, late

You tug, hard

I let you

Open me

And pass through

“See you soon!”

I whisper

As you shut

Me again

Muttering

At nothing

Your back is

All I see

As you leave

Me again

Without a

Nod, look, wink

I give you

All I am

= = = 

See what fellow poets from ReadWritePoem wrote by clicking here.

This week’s Three Word Wednesday poem was birthed from inspiration from these words:

 

Occur – Ragged – Tidy

 

I am obviously still simmering in my failure to make an object as simple as a door into a poem sans spirituality with the ReadWritePoem prompt from last week. That vibe spilled over and perhaps is pouting in the corner of this poem as well.

 

And by the way, I am very close to the 500 comment mark on this poetry blog. Will your comment be the one which pushes it over the edge? I am trying to think of some fun prize for whomever writes the 500^th comment.

 

How about this – read the poem, make a comment that reflects something valuable to this poet and suggest a reward I may give you in return. If you are the 500^th Comment, you will receive the reward… as best as I can offer it. If you are NOT the 500^th Comment, I may give you the reward, anyway.

 

Surprise me?

Today's poem is....

Underneath

When did the ragged

Wind raked wood

Obscure the tidy,

Manicured, it occurs sans surprise in a

Feng shui’d red front door

Of the Summer-Shed-Nee-Cottage?

 

Perhaps it was when

She divorced herself

From what was proper

What her Sunday School

Teacher expected and instead

Became who she always

Was, underneath -

 

She, with the wind raked

Splintered edge

Ready to be torn

Open at a moments

Notice, inviting pain

Where it was usually

Hidden by carefully

Stitched seams

= = =

If you love poetry, you may also love being a part of the Writing Intensive Camp which starts March 22, 2010 - sign up before 8 AM to be a part of this transformative adventure so you will write and be heard with courage and passion:

Here's the link to find out more....