This poem is in response to a prompt at Pink. Girl. Ink. posted by Stacy Lynn Mar.

“This is another guided poem. You simply read the rules and follow them. Once you complete them all, you should have a rather interesting little poem about Summer!”

While fireflies rise in the
warm summer evening, we
focus on distant lightning and
home-made lemonade.

In gathering darkness, a
whisper of wings overhead
insistent, recurrent
a steady flight path through unseen clouds
as bats join us in the soiree.

Drowsy memories of afternoon
breezes rustling the daylilies —
hemerocallis — daytime beauties,
each blossom lasting only
a single day, dying
with the transition from cerulean
to cobalt to inky blue-black.

The prompt from the Found Poetry Review, May 16, 2015 was to “ select words and phrases from any graduation speech and write a poem repurposing your found language.”

Celebration

sum of all knowledge
unspoken truths

the last word — not
even the point

past all the evidence,
the extravagant excesses

burnt-toast breakfasts
a handful of rice

scar tissue, questions,
rules, reserves, rage

sleeping in the shade
of your future
 
 
(Source text: Barbara Kingsolver. 2008 Commencement Address, Duke University in Durham, NC)

I am doing the PoMoSco month-long challenge with the Found Poetry group this April. This is one of the poems that I created today using Tzara’s technique and the other can be found at http://www.pomosco.com/chance-operation/shake-it-up/a-damn-fool/.

The instructions:
Follow Tristan Tzara in “How to Make a Dadaist Poem”

http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88v/tzara.html

to create a cut-up poem. Cut out desired words or phrases from a source text, and put them in a paper bag or other container. Shake to mix up the words, then pull them out one by one. To create your poem, place the words on the table in the order you draw them from the container.

Post your poem — or a picture of your cut-up if possible — along with a source text citation

Here we go:

but the genuine pain was just beginning.
for having shot his wife’s lover
in the moonlight,
silence all through his brain,
into the black beneath the trees.

“Why don’t you stay out here?”
like a metal wave, like a hot tide in the dark
since then everybody’s been coming to him

if I live a thousand years
warm and cloudless night
I’m sending the body back

“Damn dark. I can’t see a damn thing.”

(Source: Shaara, Michael, The Killer Angels. New York: Ballantine Books, 2003.)

Once again time for a Margo Roby Tuesday prompt, this one based on a three-minute mash-up of movie dance scenes entitled Shut Up and Dance.

Since time is of the essence on March 31, the day before the start of National Poetry Month. I’ve created a similar mash-up of words from a few of the movie titles. (And full disclosure, the word “Breakfast” occurs solely in honor of my favorite movie from the mash-up, John Hughes’s The Breakfast Club.)

Shall we dance?

Music/Fever/Flash!

Sound, scent, beauty – dynamite!

Dirty, risky, tangled reality.

Silver linings?

Breakfast?

Shall we dance?

Margo’s Tuesday prompt: Write about a small “something” from that the past few days that has caused you to smile and to think that “all’s right with the world.”

Looking with a three year old’s eyes
to find the tiny flowers
mirroring that blue.
A sunny day miracle
after unexpected
snow.

Speedwell, Bird’s-eye, Gypsyweed,
the everyday names
for an experience
beyond the common.

Today’s prompt: Pick a word and write a list of its synonyms and antonyms, Write a poem that contrasts the two extremes.

Enthusiasm

To meet each day with keenness and zeal,
the eagerness of one renewed

Banish apathy and let
lethargy languish.
No longer indifferent,
half-hearted, wary

To devour life with relish and zest –
an appetite for each new day.

Better late than never for Margo’s Tuesday prompt, which was to write a poem inspired by the word “cast.” One of her suggestions was to go to the freedictionary.com page and write a found poem from the words there. For some reason, this task took me two full days and may not be finished yet. A tanka from those words:

surface of a shell
the face of a dead person
changes of fortune
in a certain direction
a conjecture, a forecast

After some thought on 2/13, I am thinking of editing this to:

surface of a shell
a conjecture, a forecast
changes of fortune
in a certain direction
the face of a dead person

Better? Worse? Comments welcome.

Time for a Tuesday prompt from Margo Roby: Today she asks us to think of a misperception, perhaps of a word meaning or a situation, and to write a poem based on our thoughts.

We were the best of friends,
sharing coffee and conversation
day after day after day, never
running out of things to discuss.

Sharing our love of Mad Magazine,
early reading experiences,
laughing at our shared confusion
with the printed word “misled”
pronouncing it “mī’-zled” and
pondering its meaning.

Then no longer misled, but
just amazed at our good fortune.
Best of friends before – and
after – the revelations to come.

Today’s prompt: Scotch tape was invented on this day in 1930. Think of a “sticky situation” and write a poem about it.

“No room at the inn,” the young man said.
Well not in those words, exactly
but the meaning still the same.
I have the reservation, printed out
at home, right here, kept safe at hand
on the three-hour plane ride,
the four-hour drive, the Google-mapped
navigation through town.

“Our mistake,” he says, too brightly.
“No rooms here, but we’ll find
one of the same quality
a few (Google-mapped) blocks away.”

“Just a minute, though,” he added.
“I never had this happen before.”

Today is the final day for the January smallstone challenge. I think that I’ve only missed one day this month that I haven’t made up. My plan is to start the February haiku challenge with NaHaiWriMo tomorrow, at least I think that’s my plan.

Today’s prompt: Eavesdrop on a conversation and write a poem including a direct quote or several lines from the conversation. The poem can be about the conversation or about an entirely different topic.

The daily struggle –
count the carbohydrates,
the sugars, salt and fats,
the Weight Watcher points
(now Points Plus, sounding
even more ominous.)
Count your steps with Fitbit,
check the computer, replace
one obsession with another.
Please, pretty please,
just leave me alone.
“Oh, and thank you for
reminding me about
the pound cake.”