cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (sad panda)
Poem-a-day friends, I am so sorry to have fallen off the face of the blog for the last third of November. Writing during family vacation time is always difficult for me--one of the reasons NaNoWriMo seems impossible--but during travel time, I wrote three micro-poems. When I returned home, I came down with a vicious cold. I mentally composed a feel-sorry-for-me cinquain somewhere in that haze (srsly, the first line was "defeat" and the final was "despair"), but my more ambitious plans disintegrated.

By my (still) cold-clouded count, I wrote 25 poems. I attempted three poetic forms I'd never used before: triolet, nonet, the Bop. I returned to some familiar forms like senryu, sevenling, and cinquain. In general, I experimented with form more than I expected to. I was also writing much more emotional poetry than I'd planned--my way of coping with post-election trauma. Maybe seven of the 25 poems, with varying degrees of revision, can be folded into my regular speculative poetry submissions. I'm pleased with that result, since my inventory had dwindled and I was growing impatient with my slothful production.

Thanks to all who read, commented, and cheered me on. I hope those of you who were pursuing writing goals in November fared even better than I did. Feel free to share your news/stats in the comments!
cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (sending love)
I'm breaking my routine and making this poem-a-day public because I think it might help people. Take and give comfort today, my friends.

A poem will save the world.
Maybe not this poem
maybe not today
but a poem will save the world.
Maybe it’s already been written
committed to heart and passed on
for generations
the poem that will save the world.
Or maybe the poet is still
staring at the words
wondering whether it’s enough.
Maybe the poem isn’t written yet.
Maybe the poet is stuck in traffic
or after-school detention
or a prison cell.
Maybe the poet isn’t born yet
or even conceived.
Maybe the poem that will save the world
will only be published in an email chain
that wraps around the world
in a relentless hug.
Maybe the poem
is set to music
or hidden in a painting
or captured in a photograph.
Maybe it’s a fanvid
or some form of future tech
I’ll never get to witness.
But it’s out there, I know.
Past present or future
perhaps some quantum state of all three
it exists and it will be free
and so will we
because a poem will save the world.

cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (hammer head)
Today I'm working on what I envision as a tripartite poem. Each piece is inspired by a different word. Those of you who follow me on Twitter might remember, during Sirens 16, my note to self consisting of "sidekick wingman scapegoat."

Each piece should work as a standalone poem. I toyed with the idea of using the triolet form for each but decided the repetition wouldn't advance the theme. So for the first poem, I'm now experimenting with The Bop:

6-line stanza presenting problem
8-line stanza exploring or expanding on the problem
6-line stanza presenting solution or failed attempt(s) to solve

I think the form could work for all three poems, but I won't lock myself into that decision just yet.
cafenowhere: teacup brimming with mysterious violet liquid (psychedelic tea)
...on the occasion of WriPoMo!

Of course, November is more officially known as National Novel Writing Month. But I don't need to jump-start a new novel right now, so instead I'm going to try to write a poem a day. When I made this decision, I thought I'd soon be the proud new owner of a CPAP and thus better rested, maybe less depressed. Alas, the supply store closes at 4:30, so more likely it'll be two weeks before I can get there. Nevertheless...

Today I am working on a two-part poem about a unique worker and the efficiency expert assigned to study the worker in hopes of extrapolating his technique to employee guidelines. I transcribed part one, focusing on the worker, from my journal to computer yesterday, and it felt more solid than I'd expected. The notes for part two, the efficiency expert's POV, are much sketchier, but since it's a response, it can take shape and direction from part one. I hope to finish a draft of it today. When I do, I'll post it as a friends-locked entry.

To paraphrase AC/DC: For those about to write, I salute you!

cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (coffee spoons cucharillas)
A rare, unlocked poem from my poem-a-day project. Enjoy?


Lesson from the rain:
trying to fill a hole
only carves it deeper.

cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (sad panda)
On Saturday I had a marvelous art date with my buddies. We made monsoon paper.

photo (51)
monsoon paper 12-15-12

We also experimented on huge canvases with all manner of ink and acrylics and wet leaves and pine needles. We talked about politics and family. And I was reminded that people worry about me. I have been somewhat a-verbal lately. I get tired or feel glum or just empty, and I really can't think of anything to say. Also, since I'm doing poem-a-day again, I post fairly regularly on LJ, but under a poem filter, and I don't say much other than to introduce the poem.

Which brings me to the PROMPT, or rather, a REQUEST for prompts. You may leave me a word or image prompt in comments, and I will incorporate each into a poem. If you're not on my poem-a-day filter, I'll email you the poem inspired by your prompt.

And now for the RANT. )
cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (hola)
I have decided to revive my poem-a-day habit, with a few changes from the last go-round for the sake of my sanity.

I will be using a filter this time, so if you would like to be on the poem-a-day filter, please let me know in comments. Last time, I needed to practice letting poems into the wild. This time is different. I may be subbing these poems to publishers, so if you're an editor and would like to steer clear of working versions, I'll understand if you don't opt-in to the filter.

I won't necessarily post every day, though I will work on poetry every day. It may seem like a cheat, but I only intend to post so long as it's helpful to me. I want to maximize my good, not multiply my stress.

Some goals for my project: I miss noticing the things I notice when the poetry part of my brain is engaged, so I should exercise that part of my brain. I want to be awake! Maybe having a daily goal will ease the grip of my seasonal affective disorder, help me get out of bed every morning. I want to experiment with new forms and styles and subjects. I want to try more translations. I want to be poetry-connected enough that I recognize possible topics for reviews and critical articles. I want to model self-care and cultivation for my daughter.



cafenowhere: coffee cup with sugar packets that read WTF (Default)

August 2017

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