Posted tagged ‘poetry exercises’

Free Verse/Triolet – “Trapped Heart,” “After Lashing Out”

March 10, 2012

(Sorry- this heart in chains--"trapped" but perhaps not quite what the poem envisions.)

Here’s kind of an interesting exercise for those interested in the ways in which form shapes content.  The first is a draft poem in “free” verse;  the second is a triolet (a form recently highlighted by Gay Cannon and Samuel Peralta in dVerse Poets Pub “form for all”) which I wrote the next morning.   Oddly, I am also linking this post to “Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads”, for their prompt about love and affection, since the poems deal with their backwash.

 

Trapped Heart 

And then you come to a time
when you are willing to excise a limb.
You are consciously an animal,
caught; cutting–hand, foot,
arm–seems the only cut loose.
You gnaw, increasingly
panicked, you saw,
increasingly frantic, not
for freedom but survival,
for you know,
even as you slice, that it’s
your heart that’s trapped,
your heart that is beating you
so hard, so insistently. 

And here’s the triolet:

After Lashing Out 

Then comes a time when you’d cut off a limb–
when you’re an animal, entrapped and sore,
when, in the come of time, you’d cut off a limb,
if you believed your severed paw could trim
the clock hand’s spring; if you believed a whim
of excision could take you back before
that time, when what you became cut off a limb–
you were an animal, entrapped and sore.


(As always, all rights reserved.  And as always please please please check out my books Comic novel,NOSE DIVE,  book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. )

13th Day of National Poetry Month – Draft Haiku Re Frost and Florida

April 13, 2010

Hot Room in Air-Conditioned House

It’s the thirteenth day of National Poetry Month and I got up at 3:45 a.m. for a flight down to Florida.  As a result, I’ve focused on short poems, haiku, for my drafts of the day.  (For those of you who have not been following this blog, I am honoring National Poetry Month by writing a draft poem a day.)

A classic haiku is seventeen syllables – five in the first line; seven in the second line, and five again in the third line.  Some people (who put content ahead of form) do not abide by these syllabic rules.  Given that a haiku is traditionally written in Japanese, this could probably be justified.   However, because I tend towards the formal more than the meaningful, I try to keep my haiku to the seventeen syllable format.  (Note– title doesn’t count, so it’s a good way to slip in a few more syllables.)

So here are a few haiku, written both in New York, pre-dawn trip to Florida, and after.  Please remember they are all drafts, and are intended to inspire you to your own efforts (which are bound to be as good.)

Killer Frost  (in Fortune Cookie Style)

Premature blossoms
bear no fruit.  Let buds knot wood
till truly their time.


Lack of Sleep As A Cure for Depression

I’m finding, of late,
the ebullience of no sleep.
Regret fades at two.


Florida

Porched concrete like the
forced march of Bermuda grass
fends off ant and file.


Symmetric

Two coconuts hang
like velour dice from a frond.
Is this all just luck?


Airless Room

The hot room in an
air-conditioned house:  vacuum-
sealed, energy-proof.


Nap

Middle of the day
sleep,  warm breath thick and soft as
flesh;  some manage it.


Pre-blossom Branch

Second Day Of National Poetry Month – A Pantoum

April 2, 2010

Silver Slipper

Today, tried a pantoum.  The great thing about a pantoum (a form of repeating lines) is that you don’t need to come up with so many new lines.  ( For instructions on the form, check here.)

Remember, this is a draft a day!  A Draft!  (And the point is for you to try too.)

(Please note that in my poetry, pauses come only with punctuation–commas, or periods–and not at line breaks.)

Last Anniversary Party

She walked that night on the side
edges of silver slippers.
Her smile stretched movie-star wide
above sored feet that moved like flippers.

The edges of silver slippers,
gathering, elasticized
around sored feet that moved like flippers
as their slow, held, waltz defined

our gathering; elasticized
the sweet stretched around the bitter
that their slow, held, waltz defined.
We were her husband, her too, who fitted

that sweet, stretched around the bitter,
to make it last, while we each tried
to be her husband, her too, as they fitted
loss with all that sparkled fine

to make it last, while we  each tried
a smile stretched movie-star wide,
at loss, at all that sparkled fine.
She walked that night still on this side.

First Day of National Poetry Month

April 2, 2010

First day of National Poetry Month was a day, unfortunately, busy with many non-poetry tasks, but two drafts were written as per my commitment, one on the subway up to a see a musical, the other, during an intermission (sort of).

The Suspense of Survival

The suspense of survival
can be hard enough to support,
that, at times, we almost wish it all just done,
rather than contend with the
uncertainty, the worry about how
it will happen and when, and whether, in the meantime,
it will hurt.
What’s me in me wants to add in “if
silently, though the mind knows truly
that not-surviving is a given in this world, so instead
it adds “in this world”, hoping like hell
(only not like hell) for another.

Home From A Musical

Just home from an old-timey musical,
a Rodgers/Hammersteiny musical,
whose refrains repeated, repeats refrained,
while true love waxed then slightly waned.
The bass was manly, tenor impassioned,
the soprano not quite out of fashion.
Internal rhymes danced through each line
as singers kicked their legs in time,
for these singers danced and dancers sang
as they acted out each heart-struck pang.
Hurrah hurrah for a musical show
that finds the lilt in every woe.

National Poetry Month- National Poetry Exercise Month (Blocking Writer’s Block)

March 31, 2010

April Poetry Clock

April is National Poetry Month.  This “tradition” was started in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets.

I guess the idea was to hook people’s love of targeted celebrations to poetry.  April seems to have been chosen because it followed Black History Month (February), and Women’s History Month (March), and because it did not include Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year’s, was during the school term (schools are natural candidates for the celebration of poetry), but not at the busy beginning of the school term, or at its tousled end.  (Of course, Easter and Passover sometimes fall in April, but as religious holidays, these are not big competitors for concentrated school celebration time.)

April may have also been chosen because it already reverberates with specific poetic associations.  Yes, it’s the cruelest month, but it also (and perhaps more popularly) hosts “shoures soote.”  It’s (presumably) when lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed, and at least one of the times when it pleured in Verlaine’s coeur.

April also seems to be a popular month for relatively new, made-up, sorts of holidays like April Fool’s Day, Professional Administrative Assistant’s Day (the fourth Wednesday) followed by Take Our Daughters and Sons To Work Day (the fourth Thursday, perhaps intended as payback to Administrative Assistants), Earth Day (April 22nd), Tax Day (April 15th).  While “Tax Day” is not exactly a holiday (unless standing in a long line at the post office is your idea of a good time), it is a day of national observance.

Then there are other newish April holidays that seem too obscure to warrant mention, but are just too goofy to leave out: Zipper Day, National Honesty Day (date of George Washington’s inauguration), Girl Scout Leader Appreciation Day, National Pineapple-Upside-Down-Cake Day, National Read a Road Map Day, and, my personal favorite No Housework Day (April 5th), which also falls on World Health Day.   (In keeping with these holidays, April is also Stress Awareness Month.)

In celebration of National Poetry Month (and perhaps also Stress Awareness Month), I am proposing to replace the daily ruminations I post on this blog with a new poem, or truly, the draft of a new poem, each day of the month.

This will be an interesting exercise for me; and I hope you’ll find it one as well.  It is intended to follow up on the various posts about blocking writer’s block, the theme being how to write poetry with no clear inspiration other than a (relatively short) deadline.

This may also be a way of celebrating April Fool’s Day (all month long.)

If any one has topics, suggestions, poems of their own, please note them in a comment!

For the Inspirationally Challenged – Writing Exercise for Harried Poets

October 22, 2009

For those, like me, who want to write but have limited time and mental space, inspiration can be difficult to come by. 

In large part, this is a “limited mental space” problem.  Your “free” moments may be free of immediate obligation, but your brain may still be tangled in worry, chores, regret, lonliness. 

The problem is that you don’t want to just whine.  Whining in print may offer some relief to the writer, but it’s  a  lot like the relief that vomiting offers to a person who is sick to their stomach.  It’s not all that great for the person doing it;  it’s even less appealing to their audience.

 So how can you make good use of your writing time when inspiration is otherwise engaged? 

 Here’s a trick:  try something that’s both completely arbitrary, and yet carefully defined.  In other words, a writing exercise!  The arbitrariness of the exercise can nudge you out of your over-trod groove, while the structure turns into something like a game, reducing both decisions and ego-involvement.  (It’s only an exercise!)

 In July and August, I wrote about exercises aimed primarily at prose writers.  This one is for the inspirationally-challenged poet.

 Before reading on, please set side aside snobbery.   The exercise below is a bit stupid, but it is offered as a springboard.  It relies on the fact that many poems involve tropes (a wonderful word I hardly ever get to use), that is, metaphors.  The exercise sets up a structure which is intended to turn an extended metaphor into something resembling a poem.  And it’s intended to make you think about verbs. 

 The specifics:

 First, choose an occupation, preferably one that involves some physical craft.  (Carpenter, fisherman, cook, for example, not stock analyst.)  Now, list all of the verbs that are particularly associated with that chosen occupation.  (Usually, “crafty” occupations have strong verbs.  Cook, for example: “braise, broil, boil, peel, sauté, fry, deep-fry, mince, cube, slice, skewer, stab.”)    List at least ten of these verbs.  This list is called Column B.

 Second, make a list of nouns which will be called Column A.   These nouns should be fairly randomly chosen and NOT specifically associated with your Column B verbs.  (For example, if you’ve chosen “cook” as your occupation, you can choose “mother” as a random noun, but not “chef.”) 

 While it’s nice to choose some specific nouns – such as “lilac” rather than “flower”–choose at least a couple that are very flexible  (examples:  “mother,” “father”,  “ocean”.)   You should list at least ten.

 NOW,  imagine you are at a Chinese restaurant ordering a luncheon special in which you are allowed to mix and match items from Column A (egg rolls or dumplings) with items from Column B ( bean curd homestyle or General Tso’s chicken.) 

 And NOW,  write a poem of at least five lines, using a noun from Column A and a verb from Column B in every line.   (Example:  “the ocean braised the shore.”)  (Sorry!) 

 Clarifications:  (i) Verbs from Column B can take any tense;  (ii) you do NOT need to use every word listed in Column A and Column B, just one from each Column in every line;    (iii)  line length is up to you (meaning you can use some long lines with lots of extra  uncolumned words.)

Finally, remember the two most important rules of any writing exercise:

 1.  Follow the rules.   

2.  Cheat.  (Remember that you’re trying to write a poem, not an exercise.)  

And, NOW, get going. 

Tomorrow, I’ll post some samples of my own.