Day 4 from Found Poetry Review comes from Woody Leslie:

WordBlocks http://www.foundpoetryreview.com/blog/impromptu-4-woody-leslie/

We’re given the following steps to create our WordBlock.

1. Write a word.
2. Make a list of other words that are related to this word, in meaning or in spelling.
3. Combine these words into one wordblock sharing letters. (See pictures for example)
4. Keep rearranging, adding, or subtracting words until you have a wordblock you like aesthetically both visually, and linguistically. A wordblock rarely looks great on the first try. Wordblocks have vast potential both handwritten, and typeset either digitally or with moveable letterpress type.
5. Your wordblock can stand alone as a one-word poem, or be placed in a sentence. Try stringing multiple word blocks together. The result is a sentence that provides multiple ways to navigate it.

I started with the word Jazz, because I was already thinking about hot colours for my NaPoWriMo.net post, to write about the cruelest month for which I chose September. I’ll share that here before going back to the blocks!

Day Four  NaPoWriMo

On April 4, 2016

In his poem “The Wasteland,” T.S. Eliot famously declared that “April is the cruelest month.” But is it? I’d have thought February. Today I challenge you to write a poem in which you explore what you think is the cruelest month, and why. Perhaps it’s September, because kids have to go back to school. Or January, because the holidays are over and now you’re up to your neck in snow. Or maybe it’s a month most people wouldn’t think of (like April), but which you think of because of something that’s happened in your life. http://www.napowrimo.net/ (Be sure to visit there for links to other poets and for the chosen poets for today.

 

 

 

Here’s my attempt at a September poem.

What Month’s More Cruel than September? 

 The world’s awash in brilliance, hot colours of September
jazz tones like fire. With shades like that, it should be summer.

Instead—

fall raises its cold cruel head, chill winds blow east to
bring the whole show down around our feet.

September.
Its fading song the first harsh notes of the death
that is late fall. Even the frigid white of winter
is not so cruel as the sudden slip into late September.

Carol A. Stephen
April 4, 2016

 

 

So, then, from the word Jazz, I created a list of words:

Jazz  HOT red licks, rhythm
riffs riffin’ improv
backbeat bebop blues blow

vibes licorice stick trombone
horn clarinet jam jammin’ jive
Chicago syncopation  syncopated
New Orleans  Dizzy Miles Wynton.

I decided to make a Wordle to illustrate my block of words, so I needed to copy the words over a few times to highlight the main ideas.  I played around with colour, font and layout for a bit, then went with this:

 

My sentence or poem:

Le Jazz Hot

Hot jazz syncopation
the rhythm the rhythm
mean reds slide to yellow
blow orange blow blue
sweet licks from that licorice stick

Carol A. Stephen
April 4, 2016