poetry wednesday : rub up against the unfamiliar
Serve by Valancy Reynolds hello. I will be your poet for this evening. I hope you do not mind if I do Rearrange your words make you rub up against the unfamiliar put some strangers in your midst just to see what might happen when you don’t get what …
poetry wednesday: monsoon
Today is Wednesday. That means poetry here on 37days. And today’s poem is by a member of the VerbTribe online writing course that is ending tomorrow (and that ending is simply a new beginning for these amazing writers). I have been blessed to be their guide for these past 37 …
poetry wednesday : it might have been otherwise
I flew home from San Diego on Sunday after two amazing engagements there–a speech to the California Association for the Education of Young Children and a workshop that Jane LaFazio and I created, combining writing and art-making about grief. Full, intense, wonderfully tiring days. Then up early in pouring rain …
poetry wednesday : so much of any year is flammable
Burning the Old Year By Naomi Shihab Nye Letters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper, sizzle like moth wings, marry the air. So much of any year is flammable, lists of vegetables, partial poems. Orange swirling flame of days, so little …
poetry wednesday : two heavens in the now.
Heaven for Helen -Mark Doty Helen says heaven, for her, would be complete immersion in physical process, without self-consciousness— to be the respiration of the grass, or ionized agitation just above the break of a wave, traffic in a sunflower’s thousand golden rooms. Images of exchange, and of untrammeled nature. …
poetry wednesday : invent one.
Reply to the Question: “How can You Become a Poet?” -Eve Merriam take the leaf of a tree trace its exact shape the outside edges and inner lines memorize the way it is fastened to the twig (and how the twig arches from the branch) how it springs forth in …
poetry wednesday : snow slam
I don’t really do snow. Ask my family. It snows, I stay inside by a DeLonghi portable heater with tiny handwarmers stuck inside the twittens Laurie Foley knitted for me, my neck swathed in the wool/silk blend scarf knitted for me by Aurora Fox. I don’t like to be cold. …
