10 April 2020

We’ve made it through the first third of April, and so far, I have managed to write a NaPoWriMo poem every day. Knowing my (socially distant) friends are also working on their own April projects has helped me stay on track, and I look forward to seeing Gabe’s flash fiction, Melissa’s poetry, Jojo’s collages, and Vané’s (offline) erasures throughout the week. I’ve also enjoyed looking at the work of other NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo participants each night.

It’s also nice to hear about everyone’s adventures in baking, meditation, home schooling, Zoom conferencing, and social distancing. What are you reading and watching? What music are you listening to? How are you sleeping? What local businesses are you supporting? What comfy clothes are you wearing? What special events are you missing? My partner and I had to postpone our June wedding until next year, but honestly, that’s fine. We’ve only been dating for ten years.

I am all about today’s poetry prompt, which invites us to experiment with the hay(na)ku, a poetry form invented by Eileen R. Tabios. I love reading both traditional and contemporary Japanese haiku, and I love facilitating haiku workshops. My former creative writing students may remember fondly my Wheel of Haiku exercise, which requires you to spin a wheel to select a season, a kigo, and a surprise word for each haiku you write. (Or they may remember that exercise as a source of immense distress. It’s not that easy to work the word elevator into a haiku!) I, however, always found these workshops to be delightful. If you have children or teens languishing in your living space during these days of quarantine, I would be happy to teach them about haiku. Just say the word.

I have been using Duolingo to practice my French during my stay-at-home hours, and in yesterday’s lesson everyone you could imagine — il, elle, nous, je, tu, Paul, Alice, ma sœur, ta sœur, tout le monde — was opening the window. The window very clearly needed to be opened, early and often. La porte, not so much.

The lesson left an impression on me, and so today I wrote 10 tiny poems entreating you to open the window. (You can read them below. The final poem is dedicated to my sister Rose, which is also the title of a very catchy 10,000 Maniacs song.) While I wrote, I listened to 10,000 Maniacs, a band my siblings and I played incessantly during my adolescence.

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9 April 2020

I am so intrigued by today’s prompt for NaPoWriMo! It invites us to make our poem more concrete by forming it into a shape that reflects its theme. I spent a lot of time reading Windowboxing by Kirsten Kaschock, the poet mentioned in today’s NaPoWriMo post, and I am now officially obsessed with her/her work and the portmanteau. Sadly, I could not figure out a way to make my poem concrete in the way I wanted to, so instead I made it virtual af by using Canva to form my poem into an Instagram post.

 
That’s the poem I made (for the gram), and it looks nothing like what I pictured when I first read the prompt. I wanted to find a way to create the shape of my poem with its actualy text, the way my friend Jessica does with some of her handwritten poems (example below). But I wanted to this digitally because I don’t have any interesting paper in the house. I played around with a couple different design tools, but this task definitely falls outside my current skill set. Someday, maybe.

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Today I listened to Under the Pink (1994, yo) by Tori Amos while I worked on this poem-post. In college, my favorite song from this album was “Pretty Good Year,” but now I think “Past the Mission” is my favorite.

8 April 2020

I am very excited about the NaPoWriMo prompt for today. It suggests using a line from a poem written by someone else as the seed for your own. If you’re familiar with my work, then you already know my writing practice often involves incorporating material from other texts either through a form like a cento or an erasure or through direct quotation or allusion. I thought I might be able to use today’s prompt to address my (now dreadfully late) homework assignment from my friend’s daughter (that is, the writing assignment in which I must use the words emphasis, sunflower, and scissors), but I lost a lot of my afternoon to the unnecessarily ardurous process of safely and ethically procuring groceries and household essentials without risking too much exposure to the world outside my apartment.

I have a medical condition that compromises my immune system, so we are trying to limit our interactions with others. But we still need to eat and blow our noses and such, so someone still needs to venture into a grocery store/drugstore scenario. It seems to take an unreasonable amount of time to plan for one of these scenarios, and now our town wants people to wear face masks when they go outside, but, of course, we don’t have any face masks and cannot easily obtain any without, you know, going outside. (Even if we were outside, though, where would we get face masks? It’s a quandary.) Suffice it to say, I am saving today’s NaPoWriMo prompt and my assignment from T for a less frustrating day.

Today, I made two more anger erasures, using the Wikipedia entry for “anger, cognitive effects” and “anger, expressive strategies,” respectively. When I read the poems over, they sounded like reports from some type of sinister human trial that violates everything I learned about conducting research with human subjects in my research methods course. So. Fair warning to you.

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Today I listened to Garbage’s self-titled album (circa 1995), but once I started working on these poems, I switched to Plans by Death Cab for Cutie and the relatively halcyon days of 2005, the year Charles, Prince of Wales married his true love Camillia Parker Bowles and the BBC rebooted Dr. Who.* Good times, good times.

*Other stuff also happened in 2005, including Hurricane Katrina, the death of Pope John Paul II, and the launch of YouTube, but I was trying to end on a positive note, y’all.

7 April 2020

I woke up with significantly less anger today. I felt very comforted by today’s writing prompt: write a poem based on a news article. The post even included links to a few news articles which, thankfully, had little to do with the actual news. I am actively avoiding the majority of those reports. I just read my daily Brookline, MA update each night and then check the latest numbers (you know which ones) in The Guardian. I limit the rest of my news consumption to coverage of the Royal family, updates from Shedd Aquarium, and Bon Appétit content.

Thinking about poetry and news at the same time always reminds me of these lines from William Carlos Williams:

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Those lines come from Williams’ long poem “Asphodel, That Greeny Flower,” and you can read an excerpt from it here.

So, as you can see, the news and poems can complement each other, and I liked seeing this juxtaposition in today’s NaPoWriMo prompt. I decided to use the article “Researchers Discover Faraway Planet Where the Rain is Made of Iron” as the source text for an erasure, and I found the process of creating this poem very restful. The poem did not demand anything from me or take anything from me. I just let my mind glide over the words, keeping the ones that struck a chord. Is this the best poem I have ever written? No. Is this worst poem I have ever written? Also no. It’s just a poem I made that has the word pretty in it. And that’s fine.

[Jill Hurst-Wahl uses the phrase “And that’s fine” in almost every one of her collection development lectures, and I find it so soothing.]

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7April2020_CapeCanaveral-2I was listening to Live Through This by Hole while I did this erasure, which does not sound restful or meditative but, oddly enough, was.

6 April 2020

Today, the NaPoWriMo prompt asks us to write an ekphrastic poem that uses Hieronymous Bosch’s triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights as its inspiration. This prompt felt exhausting to me for no apparent reason. I woke up in an extremely foul mood, hating everything and everyone. Moods like this always remind me of Edith Wharton’s novel Summer because in the opening scene the main character steps outside and says, “How I hate everything!”

The first time I read Summer that scene resonated with me on a deep, primal level, and I think of it often.

So, I feel a bit like Charity Royall today, even though she detests working in the library and I adore working in the library, and I did not use today’s prompt. Instead I started working on a little erasure series about anger, using sections from this Wikipedia entry as my source text.

Feels cute. Might delete it later. Might do a hundred more erasures titled anger. Might listen to the Captain Marvel soundtrack a thousand times in a row.

How about you? What emotion are you experiencing today? What are you listening to? What are you writing? What will make you happy tomorrow?

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5 April 2020

Reading today’s NaPoWriMo prompt came with a wave of nostalgia because it uses an exercise taken from The Practice of Poetry, edited by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell. This book collects writing exercises different poets have used with their students, and I had to buy it for my first undergraduate writing course at George Mason University. My teacher was Mark Craver, whom I loved. He did not throw me out of his (crowded adjunct) office when I demanded he tell me “if I am even any good at poetry before it’s too late to drop this class,” and he cured me of my habit of inserting random French words into my poems to demonstrate my sophistication.

We never used the “20 Little Poetry Projects” exercise in Mark’s class, but I used it to write (a bad draft of) a poem during the first semester of my MFA program, when we had to turn in a new poem every Thursday like writing a poem is easy. I always felt very anxious in my grad school poetry workshops, because Jeffrey Pethybridge was always in my workshop, even though he an undergraduate student, and he would critique everyone’s poem very thoroughly and seriously — as if we had any idea what we were doing! As if I had formed all the best bits of my poems on purpose instead of entirely by accident when I wasn’t even paying attention to the process! Later, after we became friends, Jeff would call me on the phone at odd hours of the day to read me something he had just written as if my opinion mattered. Graduate school was weird, though I often miss those long conversations (debates? arguments? hallucinations?) with Jeff and Paul and Jamii and Mark and Melissa and Scott and Janet and Tim et al.

Anyway, this time I used the “20 Little Poetry Projects” to better effect, and I put French in it for an actual reason! You can read my poem below, but also if you have children or teens quarantined in your house, challenge them to write a poem following these instructions. Tell them it doesn’t matter if their poem doesn’t make any sense! Poetry is largely nonsense.

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4 April 2020

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt asks us to write a poem based on an image from a dream, something I already do quite often since I am one of those people who remembers their dreams in the morning.

I tried to write about a dream I had last night, in which my best friend who used to be my boss observes me teaching and then tells me what a bad job I’m doing. This has never happened in real life! She was (and likely still is) an extremely supportive and empowering supervisor. Except in my dreams, where she’s all criticism and paperwork and long sighs expressing her immense disappointment.

I dream these dreams quite often, and they always involve a bizarre classroom environment or an incredibly long journey to a desk located in a shared office. Sometimes the office is in a strip mall. Once I couldn’t even get to my office on an upper level because the building only had escalators running in the opposite direction.

I dream strange dreams, my friend. You can read my poem for today below. I couldn’t think of the right title, so if you have any ideas, let me know!

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3 April 2020

I’m very excited because today’s NaPoWriMo prompt, which involves using an online rhyming dictionary to create a word bank that will provide material for your poem, dovetailed nicely with an idea I had for a list poem. A list poem, or catalog poem, presents an inventory of objects, places, people, or ideas. List poems often use repetition and may also include rhyme. Their structure is usually deliberate rather than random, and they tend to conclude with a strong image or significant idea. (If I sound like I am lecturing you, it’s likely because that definition comes from a lecture I give to my creative writing students.)

Walt Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing” is a famous example of a list poem, as is “Shirt” by Robert Pinksy. Some of my favorite list poems come from The Pillow Book by Sei Shōnagon. During her time at court, Shōnagan kept a daybook to document her observations and reflections. Sometimes she wrote a more typical diary entry, but she also created lyrical lists that could be considered prose poems. Here are some examples from the Ivan Morris translation of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon:

16. Things That Make One’s Heart Beat Faster

Sparrows feeding their young. To pass a place where babies are playing. To sleep in a room where some fine incense has been burnt. To notice that one’s elegant Chinese mirror has become a little cloudy. To see a gentleman stop his carriage before one’s gate and instruct his attendants to announce his arrival. To wash one’s hair, make one’s toilet, and put on scented robes; even if not a soul sees one, these preparations still produce an inner pleasure.

It is night and one is expecting a visitor. Suddenly one is startled by the sound of raindrops, which the wind blows against the shutters.

29. Elegant Things

A white coat worn over a violet waistcoat.
Duck eggs.
Shaved ice mixed with liana syraup and put in a new silver bowl.
A rosary of rock crystal.
Wisteria blossoms. Plum blossoms covered with snow.
A pretty child eating strawberries.

43. Poetic Subjects

The capital city. Arrowroot. Water-bur. Colts. Hail. Bamboo grass. The round-leaved violet. Club moss. Water oats. Flat river-boats. The mandarin duck. The scattered chigaya reed. Lawns. The green vine. The pear tree. The jujube tree. The althea.

If your social distancing circumstances include cohabitating with children and teens, you might invite them to experiment with writing a catalog poem of their own. I found a sample lesson plan for high school students on the NCTE’s website. A (very lazy) search on the interwebs took me to multiple list poem lesson plans for younger children (like this one), as well as this plan designed for college students. I also found an interesting article about using image lists to jumpstart your writing process.

What I am saying in a very roundabout way is I have written today’s NaPoWriMo poem! and I actually followed the prompt! and I wrote a list poem! and You can read it below! Hooray!

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The rhyming dictionary definitely helped me take this poem in an unexpected direction. It also allowed me to indulge my lifelong obsession with Greek mythology. The rhyming dictionary suggested golden mean as a rhyming partner for quarantine, and looking up the definition reminded me of the violet hour, a reference found in T. S. Eliot’s poem “The Wasteland,” a poem you may have studied in school. If you have never read “The Wasteland,” you probably are still familiar with its first line, which people often quote this time of year: April is the cruelest month. Typically, this line can be read as a reference to the emergence of spring, or the earth’s attempt to resurrect plants and flowers  (i.e., “breeding / lilacs out of the dead land”).

This April we’re experiencing another type of cruelty, which is why I am seeking comfort in poetry. I hope you are finding solace as well! What is bringing you comfort these days? What provides you with solace?

 

 

2 April 2020

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was inspired by James Schuyler and involves using concrete details to write about one particular place. I really like poems that rely on specific nouns and cultural references. “Homage to Sharon Stone” by Lynn Emanuel is one of my favorite examples of this type of writing. I am so curious to read the poems that emerged from this prompt. If you have written one, please share!

My poem for the day attempts to address a different prompt, created by the teenage daughter of one of my best friends and favorite writing partners. T (her daughter) actually gave us this assignment on Monday, and I just finished it, which suggests I may not be the ideal candidate for homeschooling. In my defense, I initially found the assignment to be slightly off-putting since it required us to write a piece that must include the words ooze, palpable, chicken. I immediately came up with the phrase “the palpable ooze of chicken” and then required a palate cleanser of immense proportions. Thanks, Elisa Gabbert for introducing me to negronis in 2009. I would not have survived this assignment without them. If reading about T’s prompt has put a bad taste in your mouth, you might also need a negroni. Don’t know the recipe? Watch this video of Geoffrey Zakarian making one during his self-quarantine.

Anyway, I accepted this writing assignment from T and then, for no good reason, decided to make it more difficult by using her required words in a cento. If you know me in real life, then you already know how much I seem to enjoy complicating an already complicated task. Make it harder, that’s what I always say (to myself and literally no one else). I had planned to inventory my fridge and pantry this afternoon so I could make a meal plan and limit our outside interactions to one local grocery shop every ten days, but instead I spent about four hours reading poems on the Poetry Foundation website. A search for the word chicken returned 317 poems, in case you were wondering. But I also had to do a separate search for poems containing the word palpable (197 results). Fortunately, the word ooze just turned up organically, as it does.

Like an erasure, a cento requires you to use source texts, and I have listed the ones I used to write “Shell, Cage, Bone” at the end of the post. (A lot of them use the word chicken in the title, a fact that may surprise only myself. Before today, my knowledge of poems that contain the word chicken consisted of “The Red Wheelbarrow” and nothing else.) I encourage you read these poems; a cento is designed to introduce you to the work of many different writers.

In addition, if you live or are quarantined with children and teens, I encourage you to encourage them to 1) participate in National/Global Poetry Writing Month or 2) write a cento of their own. The second option should occupy them for 1 to 5 hours!

You can read my “ooze, palpable, chicken” cento below. I hope T likes it. She has already given us a new assignment, so I am behind on my homework again (required words: emphasis, sunflower, scissors). Why am I doing homework assigned by other people’s children? Is this going to become a trend? What madness has social distancing wrought?

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Source texts (in order used):

1 April 2020

I am once again attempting to complete NaPoWriMo (or GloPoWriMo if you’re free from these United States) during our cruelest month. I don’t always end up writing 30 poems in 30 days, but since social distancing has become our new way of life, I want to carve out time every day to write a new poem. This year’s participation also gives me the chance to interact with some of my closest (distanced) friends, and I hope sharing the work we create this month will bring us (virtually) together.

For my first poem, I decided to use the early bird prompt posted on March 31st, although as usual, I seemed to have strayed from the prompt’s instructions by writing about birds in general rather than a favorite bird. Do I have a favorite bird? How does one select a favorite bird? I sense a new self-quarantine project emerging.

Anyway, here’s my poem for Day 1. It’s an erasure that uses the introduction to this Wikipedia entry as a source text.

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If you haven’t written your NaPoWriMo poem yet, you could use the favorite bird prompt or the prompt from today’s post, which references one of my favorite poems of all time including all time yet to come.