Friday, June 05, 2015

Writing Odes this past month

My Poetry Sisters and I have been scribbling down Odes all through the past month. Every month this year we are working on writing different forms of poetry in a group challenge. It's been both fun and frustrating at times! But Odes are pure fun. We agreed to take a light-hearted look at things this month, and some of these are downright funny! Check out my compatriot's Odes at these links:

Tricia Storh Hunt
Liz Garton Scanlon
Tanita S. Davis
Laura Purdie Salas
Kelly R. Fineman
Sara Lewis Holmes

Here is my contribution; one of a series of Odes to Knitting that I've been playing with this month.



Frogging


In knitting
the frog is
not the cool
green fellow
sitting on lily pads
croaking in afternoon sun.
No - it’s much
more tragic
than that idyll.
Frogging it
in knitting
is ripping out
all of yesterday
or last week’s
work in dismay.
The pattern went wrong,
stitch count is off.
Hours erased
from the life
of my fingers.
Seeking the right path.
RRRiiiiiiiipppp it out -
try again

tomorrow.


Don't miss the Friday Poetry roundup hosted at Buffy's Blog. Cheers!

Friday, May 01, 2015

The Flight of Sons; a pantoum

This month my Poetry Sisters and I are working on writing Pantoums. Pantoums are an old form of poetry with four line stanzas, where the second and fourth line of each stanza is repeated as the first and third lines of the next stanza. They can be any length, and don't have a set rhyme scheme. The last stanza reapeats the third and first lines of the first as the second and fourth lines. The repetition allows a spiraling of meaning, revealing complexity the way a stitch pattern enriches the beauty of a knitted item.

Our thematic words for this exercise were either "flight" or "certainty". Here's mine:




The Flight of Sons

He grew up on Star Wars -
read all the novels, built the Legos,
hanging at the bookstore &
dreaming of living in the stars.

Yes, he read Star Wars novels, but
I didn’t want him to join the academy.
Only just to dream of living in the stars.
I didn’t have more in mind.

To actually join the academy?
Yes, we got Legos to play it out;
I didn’t have more in mind.
Sons - they want to fly.

We bought all the Legos;
I dreamed of stars.
He learned to fly.
After all, Star Wars.
        -Andromeda Jazmon



Please visit the blogs of my Poetry Sisters to read their Pantoums:

Liz Garton Scanlon
Trisha Stohr Hunt
Kelly R. Fineman
Sara Lewis Holms
Laura Purdie Salas
Tanita S. Davis 

Friday, April 03, 2015

Raccontino with the Poetry Sisters

My online poetry group is working our way through the year by exploring a new poetic form each month. In April we are posting a form called "Raccontino". My friend Trisha explains:
Here are the requirements of the form.

  • composed of couplets (any number)
  • even number lines share the same end rhyme
  • the title and last words of the odd numbered lines tell a story
 I love a poem that tells a story, so I started by creating the brief phrase that would be the core of the story. Kind of like a six word memoir of sorts. Then I tried to fill in the back story in the rhyming couplets. I wrote a couple and will share one here. I like this form a lot and I am planning on writing more and finding a place to submit them for print publication. It's a challenge I am giving myself for April's National Poetry Month.





Family Secrets:

All of my siblings, who
love to travel, but

rarely get together, do
not talk much. One day we did. We cut

through the silence. Tentatively, we
discovered a communal pain med glut.

My shoulder, everyone said, or my knee. Tell
me what happened, said the circle, until we shut

that door. I was stunned to realize our
common life of pain. We went back to the rut

of silence. To just one day hear those hurts?
Gave me a metaphysical kick in the butt.

When you read this form it's fun to first read down the end words in the first line of each couplet, then go back and read the whole thing through.  With the contrast in  horizontal/vertical reading, there is something about it that reminds me of the "Aha!" moments of haiku. My Poetry Sisters have published their Raccontinos here:

Liz Garton Scanlon
Trisha Stohr Hunt
Kelly R. Fineman
Sara Lewis Holms
Laura Purdie Salas
Tanita S. Davis

And don't forget to visit the Friday Poetry Roundup with Amy at The Poem Farm and read some lovely poems! Also, you can check out Jama's blog to learn about other exciting NPM fun going on all month. Cheers!

Friday, March 06, 2015

The Poetry Seven Attempt Sestinas

This month my poetry sisters and I are working on writing Sestinas. It's a very difficult form to get the knack for, partly because the end words are extremely restricted. Each of the six-line stanzas use the same words in a spiral repetition. The best sestinas, IMO, tell a story. My favorite one is this by Elizabeth Bishop. Kelly has a wonderful explanation with tips on how to write one here.

For our sestinas we chose twelve words in common, each of us picking the six we wanted to use. We then got down to business with only a little moaning and complaining about the struggle to wrangle those six words into something making sense and beauty. I pulled up a memory of a fishing trip from my childhood and twisted it into shape with the end words "here, wind, turn, break, wave, up". My poem has gone through many revisions, and I'm not sure it's done yet. Here it is:

  Hornets 


Good fishing here.
From the canoe our lines wound
across the creek, turning
slowly under the water, breaking
the line of waves.
Gradually the breeze picked up.

Drifting downstream, you never think of up.
How it’s a long fight back. Hearing
the gentle slap of larger waves,
we still didn’t notice the wind
until a bird broke
the silence and the day turned.

Years later and still stung, we will turn,
look at each other and wonder, what was up?
What was it that broke?
If only we could have heard
then the warning in the rising wind
or seen the trout slip away under the waves.

We thought we knew those waves.
We knew how fish calmly turn
away from the hook, but not how the cool wind
easily tosses the line up
clear into the trees. Here
we were, tangled in line that wouldn’t break.

To get that tackle we had to break
a hornet’’s nest and beat their wave
of fury. This bend in the creek here
they thought to own, to turn
into a paper castle up
in trees rocked by wind.

Hornets are at home in wind.
One cast is all it took to break
the peace. One hook tossed up;
flicked quickly over the waves
where hornets, trout, and children turn
thinking it’s always their own HERE.

Now one fights the wind, and we all ride the wave.
We wait for the break when everything turns.
Every morning we look up and we are all still here.

  -Andromeda Jazmon


Please visit the blogs of my Poetry Sisters to read their sestinas:

Next month we are working writing the form Raccontino, which I have never done before. I've never been fond of rhymed couplets, so...  should be interesting. For today you can hop right over to Robyn Campbell's blog, where she is hosting Friday Poetry!




Friday, February 13, 2015

A Small Child's Book of Verses

found this lovely old gem on my shelf today. Here are a few pages in honor of Valentine's Day:





Is t that delightful?  Now be sure to visit Merely Day by Day today for the Friday Poetry Roundup!



Friday, February 06, 2015

Trying my hand at a villanelle



At the start of the year my online group of poetry sisters decided to challenge ourselves with writing and posting poems all year with a different form for each month. January was triolets, and February has been all about Villanelles. I have to confess I have really struggled with this one! I had a story I wanted to tell about my young son and his first taste of hot peppers, but try as I might I could not wrestle that story into the strict form of a villanelle.



Wikipedia explains the structure this way: "A villanelle (also known as villanesque) is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets followed by a quatrain. There are two refrains and two repeating rhymes, with the first and third line of the first tercet repeated alternately until the last stanza, which includes both repeated lines."

I really love the bounce and swing of the repeating lines. But boy, howdy this was a struggle! I did some free writing, made lists of verbs and rhyming end words, wrote some free verse, and wrote many drafts. I took advice from Kelly on how to use a table first made by Trisha in a Google doc, with the rhyme scheme and repeats laid out down the left hand margin. I listened to Tanita when she reminded me to develop a strong couplet in the first stanza to carry the repeats and build tension. Eventually I gave up trying to tell the whole story of how we came to grow hot peppers on the windowsill, and just tried to focus on the seed. After weeks of wrestling with it, I told myself if it was still a stinker by Thursday night I wouldn't post it at all. But low and behold, I refused to give up!



I scribbled a lot in my writing journal, and then put the draft up on a Google doc my poetry sisters and I were sharing. Reading and discussing their drafts and hearing their comments on mine was the fun part! With their encouragement and suggestions I did a lot of editing, rearranging, walking away, coming back, scowling and sighing. What I ended up with I will share here, but I consider it still a draft. There are still some bits that snag on my tongue. I will keep working on it, but for now here it is:





THE HEAT IS IN THE SEED

A seed discarded is not lost;
the smallest flame contains the spark.
For every blooming there’s a cost.

These faded buds their zest exhaust,
so sunlight fades into the dark.
A seed discarded is not lost.

Hot pepper’s fire is quickly tossed
(those pretty pods pulled on a lark),
for every blooming there’s a cost.

Hanging fruit turns ripe by frost;
or drops to dirt to leave its mark.
A seed discarded is not lost.

The sweet of fruit - to some mere dross;
young flowers knew it as an ark.
For every blooming there’s a cost          

and in time’s sand a line gets crossed;
I tell you, listen and remark -
A seed discarded is not lost;
For every blooming there’s a cost.

 -Andromeda Jazmon

Please visit my Poetry Sisters' blogs and read their lovely villanelles:
Tanita S. Davis, Tricia Stohr-Hunt , Laura Purdie Salas Liz Garton Scanlon, Kelly R. Fineman, and Sara Lewis Holmes

And don't forget to visit the Friday Poetry Round up hosted by Elizabeth Steinglass.
Enjoy!