WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompt #13

Day 13
Visual Poetry
by Ingrid

A couple of years ago I began deviating from only writing poetry on the page. See here for the specifics: Ingrid Keir

I participated in the 1st Visual Poetry & Performance Festival at the Mission Cultural Center in San Francisco. The poets and artists displaying poetry in varying ways absolutely thrilled and excited me.

One of the organizers of this festival, Adrian Arias, is a talented and prolific artist, poet, photographer, painter, drawer and father. He has taken poetry to all-encompassing route that can include language, photography, drawing, and even homemade ceviche (as some of you may recall from past readings). His work and process I find fascinating, take a look at his website and blog for some inspiration:

http://poemofthedayadrian.blogspot.com/

http://adrianarias.net/poetry


For today's prompt, please create a visual poem. Here are some additional examples or suggestions. Feel free to come up with your own!

Form the words on the page into a symbol

A photograph and word combination

A natural element spelling out a verse

http://www.northbeachcontrarian.com/agneta_falk.html

http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_21_visual_examples.html

http://www.concentric.net/~lndb/patchen/patchclr.htm

http://www.flickr.com/groups/freeverse/pool/

http://www.ucblueash.edu/artcomm/web/w2005_2006/maria_Goldsworthy/works.html

Most importantly have fun. Please forward your submissions to wordparty@gmail.com

WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompts #12

After many years of writing free verse and spoken word, I found something curious: I enjoy form. I like the rules and the specifics being dictated. Writing this way is like solving a puzzle.  Now you can take it or leave it, make this as difficult or easy as you choose, but these next few prompts are meant to challenge you with the limitations of form. I'm including a few examples as well for you to reference.

Prompt #12

by Ingrid

Sonnet

Write a Shakespearan sonnet, or some variation of a sonnet. If you want to make it particularly challenging, write it in iambic pentameter.

Let's review some of the features of a sonnet:

• 14 lines
• A volta, or turn toward the end of the poem
• Iambic Pentameter (but you can also write a great sonnet without it)
• Rhyme scheme: abab cdcd efef gg

Some examples:

SONNET 43
by William Shakespeare

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
   All days are nights to see till I see thee,
   And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

LUCIFER AT THE STARLITE —after George Meredith

by Kim Addonizio

Here's my bright idea for life on earth:
better management. The CEO
has lost touch with the details. I'm worth
as much, but I care; I come down here, I show
my face, I'm a real regular. A toast:
To our boys and girls in the war, grinding
through sand, to everybody here, our host
who's mostly mist, like methane rising
from retreating ice shelves. Put me in command.
For every town, we'll have a marching band.
For each thoroughbred, a comfortable stable;
for each worker, a place beneath the table.
For every forward step a stumbling.
A shadow over every starlit thing. 

THE ANGER OF WOMEN

by Garrison Keillor 

The anger of women pervades the rooms
Like a cold snap, and you wait for the thaw
To open the window and air out the anger fumes,
And then a right hook KA-POW to the jaw!
And she says three jagged things about you
And then it's over. She bursts into tears,
The storm spent, the sky turns sky-blue.
But a man's heart can hurt for many years.
I have found the anger of women unbearable.
And when my goddesses have cursed the day
They met me and said those terrible
Things, I folded my tent and stole away.
I yielded to their righteous dominion
And went off in search of another opinion.

FOUNTAIN PEN
by Ingrid Keir

A faded blue box full of dusty bones,
or so I presumed until I eased the lid off
to find gleaming tools, colored gemstones.
My Grandfather’s fountain pens—cast-offs
from a legendary man I know little about.
I hold each slim piece, gently draw off the cap—
the arrow shaped nib, black ink spout,
eighteen-karat gold, the point enwrapped.
The distinct sound his pen makes on paper—
like a dog’s toenails scratching hardwood.
This slim tip—perhaps was his biographer,
ink sucked to the automatic cartridge like blood.
I dream of knowing the secrets within his pen,
what I’d learn if his thoughts were actually written.
 

And these do not follow the Shakespearan form, but I had to throw them in for good measure:

BLACKBERRY EATING
by Galway Kinnell

I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry -- eating in late September.

SONNET IN PRIMARY COLORS

by Rita Dove

This is for the woman with one black wing
perched over her eyes: lovely Frida, erect
among parrots, in the stern petticoats of the peasant,
who painted herself a present--
wildflowers entwining the plaster corset
her spine resides in the romance of mirrors.

Each night she lay down in pain and rose
to her celluloid butterflies of her Beloved Dead,
Lenin and Marx and Stalin arrayed at the footstead.
And rose to her easel, the hundred dogs panting
like children along the graveled walks of the garden, Diego's
love a skull in the circular window
of the thumbprint searing her immutable brow.

SONNET XVII
by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompt #11

Prompt #11

by Bear

Music Collection Poem

Go to your music collection and find one your favorite music albums (it helps if the album has interesting song titles).   Let’s use The Beatles ‘Rubber Soul’ as an example.

The number of stanzas is the number of words in the album title.  Rubber Soul means this poem will have 2 stanzas.

The number of lines in each stanza is equal to the number of words in the song title of your favorite track on the album.  For me it would be ‘In My Life’ so each stanza will have three lines.

The number of words per line must equal half the number of tracks on the album rounded down.  So with 14 tracks on Rubber Soul each line will have 7 words.  An album with thirteen tracks would round down to have 6 lines in each stanza.

Each stanza must contain one word from each song title in album order.  Avoid using bland words like it, him, has, them… where possible and use the more interesting words.

If possible use the album title as the title of your poem.

WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompt #10

Day #10

List Poem

by Ingrid

List poems are one of my favorite forms.  Here are some examples with varying, lengths, styles and ideas for list poems:

• Signage on the highway (don’t do this while behind the wheel)
• Facebook or Twitter messages
• Items/label in your pantry and/or bathroom
• Questions
• Take lines from various poems/songs
• Business jargon
• Academic jargon
• Warnings your parents gave you

I love these Richard Loranger poems:

I WANT A POETRY and WE HAVE TO BECOME HUMAN

http://www.esquemag.org/2012/02/04/richard-loranger/

THINGS NOT TO SAY TO A PREGNANT WOMAN

by Ingrid Keir

Are you having twins?

At which hospital are you going to give birth?

When are you going to pop?

Looking at you makes me tired.

Is that baby here yet?

I really don’t like that name. It reminds me of an old person.

Wow you are big as a house!

My friend was in labor for 40 hours and had a 12 pound baby. You should call her to talk about her labor experience.

You look really uncomfortable.

How much longer until that baby arrives?

You are just acting this way because you are hormonal.

Can I touch your bump?

Wow your boobs are huge! Hopefully they won’t get too saggy.

Should you be drinking that?

Do you know what you’re having? Is it what you wanted?

Are your ankles swollen yet?

You ARE waddling aren’t you!

TO-DO LIST

by Jennifer Barone

pay rent
lose 10 pds.
do laundry
open a 401k
cash checks
figure out what to do with your life
sign up for meditation
meditate
become a better listener
call your friends back
take italian lessons
get italian citizenship
move to italy
stop obsessing over that boy
type up and organize your poetry
organize your whole house,
especially your papers
go to the dentist
try to relax
practice yoga
learn ayurveda
get to sleep at a decent hour
stop being late to work
eat healthier foods
drink more water
take your multi-vitamin
fix your portfolio
quit your job
stop worrying so much
get a pedicure
sell all your stuff on eBay
get health insurance
update your website
become a samurai warrior
practice positive thinking
stop being so negative
buy a plane ticket

GOOD NEWS

by Dan Brady

 

I want some good news people

No, not that “born again”

Bible humping bullpucky you’ve heard tell of … nope

I want good news … and not just for a minute here or there

Like you get during a KPFA fundraiser

Not what you get on Faux News during a slow day

No, by God I want the real deal

I want a whole workweek stuffed full of it

With each book-ending weekend fit to bursting

I want to know what it’s like turn on the TV and feeeeel good

I wanna feeeeeel good very time I think about … anything I can think of

I want to be double dipped, full up, schmeared, with good news

I tell you I want to look at the sky

And not think about “chem-trail” conspiracies

I want to feel the wind in my hair

Without wondering what kind of toxic crap is being carried along in it

From the sewers of India, China’s deserts or Japan’s nukes

I want to wake up, turn on NPR and hear about wonderful things

Expanding forests, glaciers coming back along with fish populations

Safe cell phones that pay YOU to use them

Free food being given out, rent reductions running rampant

I want to hear Obama talk

About giving back trillions of dollars to the people

Closing Guantanamo, giving up on nuclear power

Bringing troops home from Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, Bahrain, Oman Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey, Iran, Kazakhstan, Balochistan,Turkmenistan, Nepal, Venezuela, Columbia, Mexico and the other 123

I want to hear him go on about perp walking Bush

And his whole suffering asshole crew

Placing a stay on every act that rim jobbing bunghumper ever made

That prisons are being shuttered

Because millions of people have decided to care of each other

That godless heathen multi-nationals are hiring shit loads of people

Because they’re bringing rock solid, plan your retirement on them

God blessed union jobs back the good old US of A and by the millions

I want to hear about green houses, green cars, green factories,

Green make up, green jobs and a greening self-sustaining world

I want to hear about how every person entering the job market

Says the same ding-dong thing,

“Gee, I don’t know which of all these jobs I want?”

AND “Say, why don’t all you companies take a number for crissakes!”

And, mind you, I want the good news to go on every frickin’day

I want to hear how millions are giving up smoking

Taking up Pilates, volunteering for charity work

That everyone has two chickens in every pot

A good, well-built, American car in every garage

And by that I mean one that gets 500 miles per fuel up

Takes a 50 mile an hour crash with no damage

Or injury to its passengers

Last as long as you frickin’ want to keep it

And gets free tune-ups, brake jobs and tires while you own it

I want to hear about scenic passenger trains making a come back

How scientists are being listened to … Hello!!!

Got global warming on the run

Replaced oil, nuclear power and natural gas

Found a way to prevent alcoholism

Using the cure for cancer that we already have

And have begun to terra-form the Earth for god sakes

I want to hear day after day of good news

So that by the time the fourth day dawns

I’ll have some idea of what life is like in a world that makes sense

So that I’ll be looking forward to the next damned day

So that I’ll be glad to wake up

Donate to good causes, of which there’ll be thousands

And every one of them will be doing very well thank you very much

I want all the guns in the world to be turned in

Broken up and melted down to make … anything else!

I want to hear that every soldier, intel wonk, officer

Commando or insurgent

Has renounced violence and are getting busy …

Building shelters, planting trees, cleaning beaches

Counseling hopeless, caring for the needy

Handing out bread, bringing in water

Giving emergency care to the destitute

Rescuing cats from trees and kissing babies

I wanna see them all get busy

Fixing every leaky toilet, broken window, noisy refrigerator

And every god blessed pothole in the known universe

That they are working with farmers to grow more food

Unlocking potential, opening floodgates

Applying bandages, splints and helping, helping helping!

I want to hear about bastard banksters making micro loans and giving grants

That defense departments have been shut down!

That research and development funding

Is going to making better computers

Cars, planes, trains, tractors, shoes, lights, batteries, houses, cities, colleges, schools, basketball and food courts!

I want to hear about better understanding

Between religions, races, politicians, historical enemies

I want to hear about borders being erased, hatreds evaporating

Ignorance giving way … reason running rampant

And every form of love being accepted by everyone everywhere!

By god, I want a week of such good news

As people have never ever, ever, EVER had

So when I go outside

And get my free cup of fair trade, organic, sustainable coffee

And an organic “everything” bagel with a wild caught salmon schmear

Everyone will be walking about more than a bit dazed

More than a bit confused

But each and every one will be happy, happy, happy!

Hallelujah,

Brothers and sisters, but I yearn, dream and pray for such a week

I say I want a week of good news

A flood, an ocean, a sky full of wonders

So that every memory of this time; this horrific, festering butt hole

This stupid-assed, jack shit, fucked up universally acclaimed

And God awful world of unholy, rank, festering, pustulant oozing scabs

Is gone.   I say I want a week of good news, my friends

I say, I want a week of such good news

That glory unbounded I know, I say, I just know, we all want to see!

WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompt #9

Day #9

Instant Poetry by Dan Brady

Objective:  The poet will create a poem in 10 to 60 minutes.

Materials needed:  A pad, writing implement, preferably a pencil, a radio, a watch or clock with a sweep second hand and a timer.

Procedure:  Tune the station to any talk station, though this is not a strict requirement.  You have the clock where you can see it easily and the writing materials, the pencil and paper conveniently handy.  You will set the timer for 5 minutes.  

When you press the timer to start its countdown you watch the clock and every ten seconds write down whatever word is being said on the radio.  As you can see talk radio may be easier than a music station.  This procedure will create a list of 30 words. When the timer goes off stop.

Now the variable instructions for creating a poem – from the most difficult to the easiest.
 

Variation One:  

You must use all the words, in the form spoken, in the order listed.  You may add twice as many “other words” so that the total word length of the poem is 90 words.  Extra special points or considerations if you can make it rhyme.  Oh, yes, it has to have narrative sense.

Variation Two:  You must use all the words, not in any particular order and you may change their form, from past to present, adding prefixes or suffixes and so forth.  It does not have to rhyme.  You are still limited to the 90 word length

Variation Three:  You must use the words in any order or form, you are not limited to the number of words you may add.

WordParty Poetry Challenge – Writing Prompt #7 and 8

It has been a busy weekend (it is my birthday AND Easter) so apologies that prompt  #7 is late! I hope you are keeping up with the challenge. If you’ve missed a day of writing, don’t worry just pick it  up again today!

I’ll be posting some stellar responses we’ve been getting tomorrow. If you’d like to share your responses to any of our prompts, please email them to wordparty@gmail.com

Cheers,

Ingrid

Prompt #7

by Ingrid

Sit in a public location (a park, the student center, the parking lot at the gym) for 30 minutes. What do you notice, smell, hear? What can you invent about overheard conversations? Some of the best writing can come from these moments colored by the imagination. For example, the dog walker with the tangled leashes of 15 different pups, the couple yelling obscenities at one another while playing tennis in the park.

Prompt #8

by Jennifer

Write a poem about a lover who got away, or who you never culminated your affection for. Write about about what may have happened to you if you did.

WordParty Poetry Challenge - Writing Prompt #6

Day #6
by Bear


Prompt:  This prompt is inspired by the work of Carol Ann Duffy.  She is a Scottish poet who writes in the voice of historic and fictional women, many whom often have famous husbands.  Write a poem from the point of view of a historical women who had a more famous husband or brother.  (i.e. Abigail Adams, Lil Armstrong, Marion Aldrin, Joséphine de Beauharnais, Constanze Mozart, Michelle Obama, Christopher Columbus' wife Filipa Moniz Perestrelo, Lauren Bacall etc)

Two of the poems below are by Duffy. The first example is a poem from Shakespeare's Wife's perspective.  The second is Miss Havisham from Great Expectations.

Anne Hathaway

by Carol Ann Duffy

The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas
where we would dive for pearls. My lover's words
were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses
on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme
to his, now echo, assonance; his touch
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun.
Some nights, I dreamed he'd written me, the bed
a page beneath his writer's hands. Romance
and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste.
In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on,
dribbling their prose. My living laughing love -
I hold him in the casket of my widow's head
as he held me upon that next best bed.

Havisham

by Carol Ann Duffy 

Beloved sweetheart bastard.  Not a day since then
I haven't wished him dead.  Prayed for it
so hard I've dark green pebbles for eyes,

ropes on the backs of my hands I could strangle with.

Spinster. I stink and remember.  Whole days
in bed cawing Nooooo at the wall; the dress
yellowing, trembling if I open the wardrobe;
the slewed mirror, full-length, her, myself, who did this

to me?  Puce curses that are sounds not words.

Some nights better, the lost body over me,
my fluent tongue in its mouth in its ear
then down till  suddenly bite awake. Love's

hate behind a white veil; a red balloon bursting
in my face.  Bang.  I stabbed at a wedding cake.
Give me a male corpse for a long slow honeymoon.

Don't think it's only the heart that b-b-b-breaks.