#NaPoWriMo 2022 Day One

A Chance Encounter

He met her at a friend's birthday party.
She was not invited but sat in a corner, pretending to read. 
He would call it serendipity and claimed 
it was love at first sight. 
He couldn't take his eyes off her. 
His determined course of action - to know the mysterious girl 
reading alone in a corner. 
So he called the hostess of the party. 
She, in turn, set him up on dates with her friends.
Being a nice guy, he obliged despite the fact 
they were not
the girl he longed after.
Then one phone call, he became emboldened;
"Don't you have a sister?"
"Oh, yeah! Roni, someone wants to talk to you."
The sister looked up confused as she was handed the phone;
"Hello?"
"Hi, would you like to go out?"
Since she had never actually been on a date, 
the mysterious girl answered, yes. 
Once the details were worked out,
the girl was curious - 
who would be interested in dating her?
She asked her sister.
"He is one of my boyfriend's neighbors. 
He saw you at the birthday party."
She could not recall what the boy looked like, 
so before their date her sister drove her over to the boy's house. 
His mother informed them he was at track practice. 
Her sister knew where the track was, and they
drove over to get a glimpse of the strange boy 
who asked a crippled girl out on a date.

The strange boy and mysterious girl 30 years later

NaPoWriMo PromptAnd last but not least, our optional prompt! I got this one from a workshop I did last year with Beatrix Gates, and I’ve found it really helpful. The prompt is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.

Good morning readers and welcome to the first day of NaPoWriMo 2022. Where I write about my crazy husband. Once upon a time, when we were both still in high school, the boy saw me and decided he was going to ask me to his senior prom. First he had to figure out how to officially meet me. I know my long time readers know I’ve written poems about my sister and me watching Shawn at his track practice. This poem has taken up enough of my time this morning. I need to clean my house to get ready for our company this weekend. Thank you for reading my attempt at day one’s prompt.

NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 27

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Poets.0rg April Poster

 

Cultivating Poetry

We
Find
Ourselves
The final
Wednesday writing
Long lines. I start slowly building
Syllable count line by line using Fibonacci
Numbers. One repeats becoming two then three to five adds up to eight becomes thirteen.
The sequence can be carried on as far as one wishes to multiply poetic lines; however the lines do grow unwieldy as weeds.
After climbing up to thirty-four, it is time to trim syllable count line by line.
Twenty-one falls to thirteen, then eight is cut to five.
A gardener cultivates crops
As a poet tends
To meter
And rhyme
Verse
Grows

NaPoWriMo Prompt – Today’s prompt comes to us from Megan Pattie, who points us to the work of the Irish poet Ciaran Carson, who increasingly writes using very long lines. Carson has stated that his lines are (partly) based on the seventeen syllables of the haiku, and that he strives to achieve the clarity of the haiku in each line. So today, Megan and I collectively challenge you to write a poem with very long lines. You can aim for seventeen syllables, but that’s just a rough guide. If you’re having trouble buying into the concept of long lines, maybe this essay on Whitman’s infamously leggy verse will convince you of their merits. Happy writing!

Long lines, ewww. I’m not really a fan. My attempts at prose poetry always seem to fall short. Also I just prefer short poetry. But since we are suppose to write long lines, I thought I would work on a Fibonacci verse and build up to a 34 syllable line.

Hot Summer Days – Prose Poem

Dog days of summer… August enters hot, humid, sticky. Time to stretch out in the sun except summer days have drawn to an end. School is back in session. Students trudge down to the bus stop as the sun beats down taunting them. In the afternoon no time to dip toes in the pool. Algebra is calling. Pi…not the sweet strawberry rhubarb kind tantalizing taste buds. A number in a mathematical equation – A equals pi squared in August when the temperature is 110. Teachers blow hot air about circles. Students dream about pi with an e a la mode. Ahhh…Hot Summer Days.

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How Writers Write Poetry exercise 12 my attempt at a prose poem. Apparently Gretchen’s math class is already working with pi. We had a discussion a couple nights ago about why 3.14 is the only decimal number with a name. As far as we know anyhow. And why pi? Of course, I’m a poet not a mathematician. Mom is little help in these conversations. Maybe Aunt Kati knows.

Epistolary Rewrite

Dear poet,
How can I relate
my mind a jumbled blank slate
words fall apart as
I struggle
trying to create
perfection an elusive
Absurd state

Nonetheless:
Here I sit to write
letters link together bite
press upon me and
come to bear
sincerely recite
these vacuous lines repel
Disinvite

I’ve been working on a rewrite for exercise 11 this morning. Gretchen is off on her second day of school. Rachael is at her last day of work before she starts school tomorrow.

The final exercise for How Writers Write Poetry is free verse / prose poem. Mary Hickman discusses parataxis. I found a great article explaining parataxis. In my quiet house, I’ve been reading and reworking my previous poem. A few years ago I attended a poetry workshop in Avondale. We studied the narrative poem with Katie Cappello. Today’s video session reminded me of my previous workshop. Still, I’m procrastinating because I like short 140 character sound bites. The thought of tackling a prose poem is daunting. I think I hear housework calling. 😉