Showing posts with label NaPoWriMo April challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaPoWriMo April challenge. Show all posts

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Shhhh It: a poem

I signed on for readwritepoem's challenge celebrating National Poetry Month, in which talented and industrious poets are composing a poem a day based on daily prompts given at the website (see link). I joined on April 2, already one day too late, fully realizing that I would not be a one-a-dayer. For me this is just to see what might come from a source I'm no longer in touch with.

I noticed that the website actually addresses people like me in the challenge instructions:  Not doing NaPoWriMo? Again, no worries. You can swing by Thursdays as usual and still take part by leaving a link on the Thursday NaPoWriMo prompt post each week during the month of April. Select from any of the prompts shared thus far as part of the Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Challenge as your inspiration — or write whatever strikes your fancy.

Here is the prompt I selected:
Make your poetry personal. I mean, it already is, right? It’s thoughts, observations, deep, dark, personal feelings and stories dressed up in pretty words and oblique descriptions. You get it, and some others get it.
Still others see it as something else entirely, which is great, honestly. We have our own set of filters our lives go through, and this influences how we interpret things. It is part of what makes reading poetry fun and interesting for me.

Today, let’s make poetry really personal. Give poetry, as you write it, a name. Possibly a gender. And a personality. . .

So it’s your turn. Give poetry — how you view poetry, what poetry means to you, your poetry — a name. Now write a poem suits your view or vision.......

The Dance by Chris Marshall
The Dance by Chris Marshall



Shhh it

Shhhh
It sleeps the sleep
Of no-dream, no-scene
Where the truth is there is
Only one truth:
What once was is no longer,
May never again be.
Maybe never was.

Shhhh
It speaks no language
But the one turned inside
Without voice or inflection,
The one hurling questions,
No answers.
The one making excuses,
No poems.

Shhhh
It is a quiet fighter
Dead-eyed and mute,
Mute and wild-eyed,
Wild-eyed and whispering,
Whispering and dancing,
Dancing and spinning,
Spinning a new name,
Spinning anew.

~by MLM Lydia ©


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