Notes: You can create magnetic poetry online here. For today’s prompt, Elizabeth had us listen to Billy Joel’s song “My Life” and pick a phrase from it to drive our poem. I selected “on my time,” and was fortunate to find the words in the online poetry kit. It’s fun to play with magnetic poetry. This is not something I’d have written without it.
For Day 5, I paid a visit to Magnetic Poetry, where you can manipulate words into poems with their online poetry kits.
The cruelest months go by each day
they wander with a restless sway
unaware of falling mirth
and sinkholes opening in Earth.
Chinchillas chin chinning with big wolves blow inning
while spoons run circles through sky.
Passersby passing windows entrancing
and catching the little dog’s eye.
Swing deep round the sun with chariots undone
like broken chair yellow hair girls.
Jump over the moon where candlesticks swoon
and Little Bo makes not a peep.
Frickers frick fracking a diller a dollar
a scholar stays up to count sheep.
Dance to the fiddle of monkeys with riddles
while baby bear’s broken chair weeps.
Little Miss Muffet her spider beside her
responds to her followers tweets.
Hickory dickery walnut and chicory
bake those birds up in a pie.
The cruelest months go by each day
they wander with a restless sway
unaware of falling mirth
and sinkholes opening in Earth.
Brenda Warren 2016
Notes: The prompt at NaPo today asked us to write about the cruelest month. I thought for awhile, and couldn’t come up with one. And so began this stream of consciousness that flowed quickly from my fingers. A bunch of nonsense with some nuggets of sense, I think.
Chiming hourglass soul
dripping sand like instincts
create a doorway
for eyes to see
beyond pride.
Stop the lost
from running.
Brenda Warren 2016
This piece is from a prompt at one of Elizabeth’s places. Give it a visit—try one of her prompts. Check out the work of a few other poets writing there this month.
Brief me erotic with endless grace.
Feed my roots.
Fill me until empty threads itself gone.
We speak of starlings
dancing murmurations
moving through us
rare and rendered sacred.
Beneath Pandora’s shadowed sky
we claim witness.
Brief me erotic
plant your secrets ‘tween my thighs.
Brenda Warren 2016
Visit The Sunday Whirl
The monsters in my closet were real. They had three names: Crush, Kill, and Destroy. During the daytime they’d chase me with snakes or meet me in the garage where fear met darkness in cracks of light and my little heart beat holes in 4 year old me.
stitch up my spirit
secrets bloom on thorny stems
monsters lie in wait
Years later, undefined panic sent me to a seer, a shrink with a gift. Blurred lines cleared into cracks of light in the walls. My story made sense. The sacred book that is my life reveals itself in unwritten pages.
crush, kill, destroy me
meet me in the dark garage
where sacred books begin
Brenda Warren 2016
Garage by Randall Talbot
For day 2, Elizabeth prompts us “to write about something we have never written about before: a secret, a childhood fear, something avoided or purposely ignored. Something we have left unwritten.” She provided six words to include in our writing today.
undefined, book, lines, fear, gift, secret
When I saw where this was headed, I decided to write a haibun. A haibun is prose interspersed with haiku. There are holes in this story that may never get filled. Still, it was good to explore it. Thanks for the prompt, Elizabeth.
A basin of acid-fluxed ink, her stomach plunges & rises with peppery repression. Months of unwritten words scorch stymied syllables in her throat.
Subjugating silence with sound, she thrums and caws, spinning thought until words break free to proclaim their place in April’s pages.
One word, one poem, one day at a time, she begins to feel writing’s relief.
Brenda Warren 2016
Notes: The prompt for this piece is breaking the silence. Each day in April Elizabeth Crawford Katch will offer a prompt at 1sojournal. Pay her site a visit to see the prompt in its entirety, and to find other poets’ responses. It’s all about poeming this month.
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