Day 25 of #VerseLove with Tammi Belko: Where I’m From Poems

Tammi Belko of Ohio is our host for Day 25 of #VerseLove. You can read her full prompt here. She inspires us today to write Where I’m From poems, based on George Ella Lyon’s “Where I am From” poem. She provides a template to create a “Where I Am From” poem.

Photo by Xuan Hoa Le on Pexels.com

Royal Fortress Meadow 

I’m from the Royal Fortress Meadow

from Breck shampoo and Johnson’s No More Tears

from wispy locks of amber gold, windblown in the breeze

I’m from chain-woven crowns of wildflowers, dandelions, and daisies

from backlit sunlight exposing the truth: there will never be no more tears

from churning butter and wondering why the pants don’t fit

I’m from ancestors of the lye soap stirred in the backyard tin tub

from the front porch swing and swigging Mason Jars of sweet tea

from wash behind your ears and do a good tick check

from a don’t you slam that screen door one more time! flyswatter granny

who swatted more than flies

I’m from the country church of the cardboard funeral fans

with the off-key piano

I’m from Georgia, Cherokee blood three generation branches up-tree,

still searching for the bloodstained earth of my ancestors

from Silver Queen corn, husks shucked

from shady pecan groves and Vidalia onion fields

from Okefenokee swamplands and railroads

that side that tallied three pees before flushing

from clotheslines of fresh sheets teeming with sweet dreams

from sleeping under a box window fan in sweltering summer heat

from folks doing what they could to survive

Day 23 of #VerseLove with Anna Roseboro

Photo by Pranidchakan Boonrom on Pexels.com

Anna Roseboro of Michigan is our host for Day 23 of #VerseLove. You can read her full prompt here. She inspires us to write April Showers Bring May Flowers poems about the idea that good things come from the not-so-good.

Her challenge: Think metaphorically, about a teary time or not so nice incident that preceded or evolved into a cheery time in your life, and then in sixteen lines or fewer, describe the time or incident that could be an affirmation that “Yes, April showers do bring May flowers” or the opposite.

What Makes them Rescues 

their misfortune makes
them rescues ~
the kind 
with serious baggage
where cell phone dings
and the 
smell of heat 
bring flattened-ear,
tucked-tail trembling,
the kind that
gaze into your
eyes, wishing
they could pour out
their story but
certain you
already know

Day 22 of #VerseLove with Donnetta Norris: Earth Day Poems

Photo by Akil Mazumder on Pexels.com

Donnetta Norris of Texas is our host today for the 22nd day of #VerseLove. She inspires us to write Mother Earth poems. You can read her full prompt here. She encourages us to make a list of all the gifts we have received from Mother Earth and to write a poem in the form of our choice to say thank you. She also provides these links for inspiration:

Earth Day by Jane Yolk

Earth Day Poems

Ode to Earth Poems

Thank You Poems

Today, I chose a pantoum and rooted it in Ecclesiastes 1:9

Nothing New Pantoum

there is nothing new under the sun

mind-blowing truth of Ecclesiastes

since the dawn of time, nothing new

everything we see was here all along

mind-blowing truth of Ecclesiastes

God hid gifts in Mother Earth’s belly

everything we see was here all along

discovered, spun, re-mixed anew

God hid gifts in Mother Earth’s belly

riches to bestow, wonders to behold

discovered, spun, re-mixed anew

sacred scriptures ~ this is true

riches to bestow, wonders to behold

since the dawn of time, nothing new

sacred scripture ~ this is true

there is nothing new under the sun

Day 21 of #VerseLove with Stacey Joy: Mama’s Kitchen Poems

Stacey Joy is our host today for the 21st day of #VerseLove. You can read her full prompt here. She inspires us to write Mama’s Kitchen Poems.

Kitchens are oftentimes the heartbeat of a home. They are gathering places and hold memories like no other room in a house. Stacey mentions a recent podcast episode featuring legendary author Judy Blume, finding herself mesmerized by Blume’s memories and stories of her mother’s kitchen. If you are interested in listening to that episode, here is the link

Next, Stacey shares the process: Let’s share our memories from our mothers’ kitchens, our own kitchens, or any kitchen that holds memories for you. 

Photo by Klaus Nielsen on Pexels.com

A Lock of Hair

there, hidden in the cakes and pies section

of Mom’s Gold Medal recipe box

with all the family secrets

an unsealed blue envelope

holds tender gold tendrils

~ cherished childhood hair ~

ethereal

long blond strands

of me

steeped

in

love, one

remaining

wisp of a child

blended, kneaded, shaped,

her own recipe for

disaster ~ aproned kitchen

ancestors gather still to check

on this bun baked through all their ovens:

did she fall? did she rise? did she turn out?

Day 20 of #VerseLove with Susan Ahlbrand

Photo by Zain Ali on Pexels.com

Susan Ahlbrand of Indiana is our host today for the 20th day of #VerseLove. She inspires us to write Noteworthy poems. You can read her full prompt here.

She shares the process for writing these poems: reflect on communications you’ve had in the past . . . notes like mine, phone calls, letters, texts, Facetimes, and then work them into a poem. Feel free to tinker with an inventive form.

Getting the Picture

there was this picture

this picture of a watermelon

A WATERMELON!

a watermelon sliced

sliced like cries

cries of a mother

a mother with cancer

cancer that consumed

consumed her, piece by piece

piece by piece, like a watermelon

like a watermelon, there was

there was this picture

picture a mother

a mother crying for mercy

for mercy denied

denied until the end

the end, after the pain

the pain of loss

loss of a body, loss of a family

a family broken, a shattered picture

picture a mother

a mother who mattered

mattered to her sons

her sons who loved her

loved her and listened

listened and heard

heard her pleas

her pleas for mercy

for mercy denied

denied by others

others who refused

refused to believe

believe she felt pain

pain that consumed, piece by piece

piece by piece consumed their mother

a mother who mattered

Day 19 of #VerseLove with Dr. Stefani Boutelier of Michigan

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Stefani Boutelier leads us in Irish poetry today. You can read her full prompt, along with the poems and comments of others, here. She writes,”Today I will introduce the Deibide Baise Fri Toin form. It was difficult to find the full history of this form and more impossible to get a clear translation, but I like how it ends with one word to represent the power of single words and syllables. The quatrain form (3/7/7/1) is explained here:

Line 1: 3 syllables, rhyme A with two syllables

Line 2: 7 syllables, rhyme A with two syllables

Line 3: 7 syllables, rhyme B with one syllable

Line 4: 1 syllable, rhyme B

A published example of a Deibide Baise Fri Toin

This link provides a nice templated example at the bottom 

Praise!

shake and sing
gospel choir awakening
hallelujah voices raise ~
praise!

Day 18 of #VerseLove with Shaun: Motivational Speech

Photo by Jack Bulmer on Pexels.com

Shaun of Las Vegas, Nevada is our host today for the 18th day of #VerseLove2024. He inspires us to read this poem by Charles Bukowski that you can find here, along with the full prompt. [Bukowski, Charles. Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way. New York: Ecco (An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers), 2003.]

Then, he urges, Think about your life. Do you feel like there is something holding you back? Do you feel stuck or helpless in your circumstances? Do you remember a time when you persevered and overcame the challenges thrown at you? Perhaps you can tap into your inner-coach and deliver that life-changing halftime motivational speech!

I found inspiration in these lines of Bukowski’s

just watch them.
Listen to them.

I also added ending lines from Old Woman of the Roads by Padraic Colum

out of the wind’s and the rain’s way

The Neighborhood

there they are
building nexts 
in the garage
again
three already

we can’t even
put the door 
down because
there’s one on top
and on the toolbox
and in the corner 
in a box

three wrens

friends?

just watch them.
Listen to them.

building houses
chirping dreams

in this
regular
bird-friendly
neighborhood

out of the wind’s
and the rain’s way

Day 17 of #VerseLove with Erica Johnson

Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com

Erica Johnson of Arkansas is our host today for the 17th day of #VerseLove. You can read her full prompt here as she inspires us to write Echoes from the Past.

Erica explains her process of writing an echo sonnet:

As I told my students, don’t worry too much about the traditional sonnet structure; focus instead on keeping it to a brief conversation of 14 lines between yourself and an “echo” of your choice. 

I’ve been down and out with vertigo this week, so the echoes have been loud in between the world spinning.

##!@ ##@* Vertigo Meadows

Green grasses sway and bend and spin (like wind!)

look less like blades, way more like monster fur (sure!)

I’m praying for this vertigo to end (when???)

It’s hard to think when all the world’s a blur (duhrrr!)

Who’s Epley? I get sick from his maneuver (a mover!)

Oh, wait! I jerk my head ~ear crystals shatter (scatter!)

This could be true – a vertigo improver (a soother!)

Just keep a barf bag close so things don’t splatter (it matters!)

Even chirping birds sing sideways songs (gongs)

and baby bunnies loop like Ferris wheels (banana peels)

I need this meadow back how it belongs (it’s all wrong)

my countryside set back on even keels (not these feels)

Royal Fortress Meadows sing their woe (echo)

This dizzy/jacked-up/whirling Vertigo ($h1t Sh*w)

Day 16 of #VerseLove with Dave Wooley: Sevens Up

Dave Wooley is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the 16th day of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write seven- line poems called Kwansabas. You can read his full prompt here, along with the poems and comments of others.

Dave describes this process:

The Kwansaba is an African-American poetic form that was created by Eugene Redmond in 1995. It is inspired by the seven days of Kwanzaa and it is a praise poem

The rules of the form are:
-it is a seven line poem,
-each line is seven words in length,
-each word is seven letters or less,
-and the poem should be a praise poem

He’s Back

today I praise this dim quiet spot

this sweet spot, still, fan breeze blowing

air on my face: my current view

is the ceiling and flutter eyelid blinks

because Vertigo demands all of my being

ghost thief of time, work, family dinners,

but mark my words: still, I’ll rise

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

Day 13 of #VerseLove2024 with Barb Edler at www.ethicalela.com: The Poetry Fox

The Poetry Fox in 1828 Coffee Company in Zebulon, Georgia

Barb Edler of Iowa is our host today for the 13th day of #VerseLove2024, inspiring us to use a brain dump process to craft a poem. You can read her full prompt and the poems and comments of others here.

My role as the District Literacy Specialist for Pike County Schools in Georgia involves utilizing grant funds to create Literacy events to ignite reading and writing passion in our schools and throughout our community. When my soul sister Fran Haley of North Carolina posted about The Poetry Fox visiting her school years ago, I tucked that thought away as a dream to bring him from her school event in Zebulon, North Carolina to our coffee shop in Zebulon, Georgia to work his magic, sitting at his table in a fox suit, pounding out poems on his vintage typewriter for folks who stand in line to offer him their word.

He made that 7 hour trip this week from his home in Durham, NC and produced nearly 60 poems between 3:00 and 6:15, delighting people of all ages and from all walks of life – funeral directors who gave the words tears and gravestones, a pilot who offered the word sky, children who offered all sorts of words from monster truck to axolotl, teenagers who brought the words hooligan and baseball, and a librarian who brought the word library – and so many more! I’ve included the list of words in a photo at the bottom of this post. My words were royal fortress meadow since my name, Kimberly, means from the royal fortress meadow.

After three hours of writing poems, he packed up his fox suit and walked down to the barbecue restaurant on our town square and had a barbecue sandwich, baked beans, and banana pudding with me. When we returned at 7:00, he shared a delightful hour telling us about who he is, what he does, and how he came to do it. Beyond watching him work, there is as much amazement in the person of Chris Vitiello as there is the jaw-dropping magic of….

The Poetry Fox!

I. The Suit

there must have been

some magic in that old

fox suit they found

for when he placed it

on his head

keys began to dance around

to swirl up typewriter dust

conjuring the memories

reaching deep for connections

once forgotten, resurrected now

in the deep recesses of minds

and souls

the piercings of heartstrings by

moments of life

summoning past

awakening present

cultivating future

pounded out with two fingers

often superglued for

tenderness support

a suit ~

left behind, abandoned, forgotten

given as a gift by a

friend who knew the quirky depths

of brilliance in THE one who would

wear it best

II. The Roots

because as a kid

he read newspapers

enjoyed the flapping of paper

and the words they held, and

this future fox word volleyed

(forget board games – he played word games)

with friends

to build schema

set egg timers and each wrote 5 poems

all about one word

that had to be different from any other

with his knees against a heater

where his desk sat

the heat rising as the breath

of a boy who would someday

write to the tune of sweat

in a toasty fox costume

III. The Pursuit

and every day live out

his dream of writing

his love of meaning

his incessant hunger

for the exchange of words

for the gift of poetry

this soul-spark of wonder

when words touch places

long ignored

and breath catches

and tears well and spill

and loved ones lost return, smiling

between the lines

and children laugh

because the clever fox

explains in all logic

through poetry

that people don’t

make monster trucks ~

monsters do

and people aren’t the

only ones who write poems

foxes do, too

A group stands watching The Poetry Fox work his magic
I said, “Royal Fortress Meadow,” and this is my poem on the meaning of my name
A poem about monster trucks
The word list The Poetry Fox keeps – for all the words folks give him at his events