Our challenge this month is to write an Exquisite Corpse Poem. This form is a game played in a group, like the way we used to pass around slips of paper with lines in a made-up story in junior high; each person in the group adding one line and laughing at the way these outrageous novella developed. Only this is a bunch of poets passing a line around the circle, everyone adding one line without knowing what came before or after. The Poetry Sisters played this game in Slack, passing our lines along and then meeting up in zoom on Sunday afternoon to look at the whole thing and talk about what we had. We each then went off to edit and adapt those lines into our own poems. We gave each other license to keep or change as much as we wanted. We are sharing them here in our blogs for Friday Poetry, and we hope you enjoy the game!
Here are the lines as they came to us in the round robin:
This month, odd one out, running short on days and sleep,
This month, past meets pride, roots ripped from native soil still somehow grow.
The once-bright future dims. Shadows grow
But there, near canyon rim, in broken light
the yearling hawk shrieked in futile fury
and the steel-edged clouds looked away
trees bow and bend on a blustery day
that rattles old oak leaves down the street.
I wanted to have a narrative with a character, of course. The hardest part for me was not knowing if the poets before me had included a character and started a story. To get past that I made my line about a hawk, which could be a main character, a minor character, or just atmosphere and background noise.
I spent some time wondering what lives on the edge of a canyon. I did a quick internet search and found out that Bristlecone Pines live there, and they are the oldest living organism on the planet. I found a sharable image of a Bristlecone Pine and my poem went from there:
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| Bristlecone Pine by Annita Keck CC BY SA |
Maintaining
She finds herself running short on days and sleep,
Wondering if roots ripped from native soil still somehow grow.
The once-bright future dims. Remembering what was left
in pieces near that canyon rim,
she sees today in broken light.
A yearling hawk soars and shrieks in futile fury
as steel-edged clouds drift away. And
older than dirt, the oldest of old, the 4000 year old
Bristlecone pines bow and bend in the bluster
that rattles old oak leaves down the street.
-Andromeda Jazmon
Take a look at what the other Poetry Sisters wrote:
Trisha - hosting Friday Poetry this week!
In March we are challenging ourselves to write Ekphrastic Dodoitsu poems.
Writer's Digest says, "This 4-line poem has seven syllables in the first three lines
and five syllables in the fourth--and final--line.The Dodoitsu often focuses on love
or work with a comical twist." We are writing in response to photos that in some
way indicate either love or work themes. We will post on March 25 for
Friday Poetry. Please join us if you want to play!
