Day 28 of #VerseLove with Glenda Funk: Strike Through Poetry

Glenda Funk of Idaho is our host for Day 28 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write Strike Through Poems. You can read her full prompt here. Strikethrough poetry is similar to found or blackout poetry, where a poem exists within an existing poem.

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The Key

Don’t you wish we

could take the key

to the end of

the island like

we used to do

when I was little

and you could still

say Latin names

for each shell and bird and tree

your love for them pure

and passionate before

the day it all changed

for you?

Day 26 of #VerseLove with Scott McCloskey: Billboard Poems

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Scott McCloskey is our host today for Day 26 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write short billboard-type poems of wit and wisdom, the kind that stick with a reader and leave an impression. You can read his full prompt here, but I’m adding some notes below, too:

Scott explains:

This, of course, is not something new, this “poetry as billboard.”  Poems have replaced advertising on some buses (and other forms of transit) in Washington thanks to the Poetry in Public program. https://www.4culture.org/poetry/ And over thirty years ago, The Poetry in Motion folks did a similar thing, placing poems in various transit systems in Los Angeles, New York City, Nashville, and San Francisco (among many, many others).  https://poetrysociety.org/poetry-in-motion

Just looking at a small sampling of the poems from the New York Poetry in Motion selections https://poetrysociety.org/poetry-in-motion/category/new-york you’ll see some heavy hitters: Charles Simic, Audre Lorde, Tracy K. Smith, Maya Angelou, Seamus Heaney, Shakespeare, Sharon Olds, Billy Collins, Walt Whitman…look, I could just keep naming them, and you’d recognize all of them!  You’d also notice that their topics (and size of selections) are as varied as the poets themselves.

Clinking Pens

on Aisle 12

I caught him

peering around

the corner

“I thought that was you,”

he smiled, approaching.

“Remember me?”

Of course I did.

“Chandler!”

We side hugged,

I asked him

about life.

“I want to

thank you,”

he said.

“You taught me

if I remembered

nothing else

to always keep

a pen on me.”

He reached

in his pocket,

pulled out

a black pen

with gold banding.

“I just bought

my first house

and signed with

it. I thought

of you.”

My breath caught

a tear welled

and my heart

burst with

that now-I-can

die-a-teacher-

who-mattered-joy

I reached in

my purse

pulled out

my signature

Pilot Varsity

fountain pen,

blue ink,

and we clinked

pens, smiling

there on

Aisle 12

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.

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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

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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 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. 

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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 19 of #VerseLove with Dr. Stefani Boutelier of Michigan

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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 15 of #VerseLove2024 with Angie Braaten

Angie Braaten is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the 15th day of #VerseLove2024. You can read her full prompt, along with the poems and comments of others, here. Today, Angie inspires us to write elegies in the style of Clint Smith. You can read two of Clint Smith’s poems here:

Clint Smith’s “Playground Elegy” and “No More Elegies Today”

Honey Buttered Toast

Today I will

write a poem

about a dog eating honey buttered toast

it will not be a metaphor for a land of milk and honey or savior-style pet rescue

it will not be an allegory for a character named Boo Radley, white as a ghost, who saved people, found standing behind a door

but rather about bottled wildflowers

sweetly spun nectar of honeybees

dancing through the meadow, kissing blossoms

but rather about buttery cream

freshly churned from Guernseys

grazing green grasses of the meadow

but rather about chaffed wheat

grain gleaned from the meadow

ground and baked and sliced and toasted

but rather about the blending of ordinary meadow things

that become the extraordinary

when the world doesn’t want to read another dog poem

Boo Radley and Briar eating honey buttered toast for breakfast

Day 14 of #VerseLove2024 with Margaret Simon of Louisiana leading us into Spring Days with Borrowed Line Poetry

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Margaret Simon of Louisiana is our host today for Day 14 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to use a borrowed line from a poem to inspire a new one. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here. For Margaret’s prompt, she chose a favorite Billy Collins poem entitled Today and challenges us to use the line “If ever there were a spring day so perfect….” I’m letting that line be my title today for this borrowed line poem. With a huge thanks and a salute to Margaret Simon ~ and to Billy Collins.

If Ever There Were a Spring Day So Perfect

sun shining brightly would melt winter’s curse
planes would trail banners of poems and verse

flowers would smile pinkly, swaying in dance
groundhogs would high-five their weather-called chance

jasmine would fragrance porch swing breeze
beckoning readers to carpe this diem seize

sun-brewed sweet tea would pour extra-freely
buds would unfurl on branches green-treely

butterflies would turn pages of poetry books
hummingbirds sip nectar with grateful quick looks

napping hammocks would cradle a snooze
on a perfect spring day, we’ve got nothing to lose

wild bunnies would scamper, tumble, cavort
neighborhood club kids would hide in a fort

cows in the meadow would slumber unflied
folks would seek seashells on shores at low tide

woodpecker bellies would hammer with laughter
and the whole springtime world would live happy hereafter

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

Day 11 of #VerseLove with Amber Harrison

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Amber Harrison of Oklahoma is our host today for the 11th day of #VerseLove. She inspires us to write Surprising Supplies poems, and explains the process. You can read her full prompt here, along with the poems and comments of others.

I want a meadow ~ I think it could supply all the needs a person ever truly has.

Heavenly Meadow

a royal fortress
meadow

cloaked
in Mother
Earth’s
embrace

arms
cradling
us
carrying
us
crossing
us

from
bosom
to
heaven