NaPoWriMo 2016 Impromptu # 7 Cento: Only About Light

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Today’s prompt at Found Poetry Review comes from Simone Muench, who wrote a favourite of mine, a collection titled Wolf Centos. Please click on the link to access the full post, and for more information about Simone, as well as to view other poems answering the challenge today.

The prompt:

“The Brazilian poet Manuel Bandeira created the cento “Anthology” (see below) using lines from his own poems, instead of employing the traditional method of cento-construction (in which you build a poem entirely out of lines from other people’s poems). Following his example, write a cento that is a self-portrait, or anthology of your life, utilizing lines and fragments from your own work.

Or, alternatively, create a “self-portrait” cento using lines and fragments from other people’s poems (the traditional method), or song lyrics, or prose (fiction and/or nonfiction)

*To see the basic stipulations for writing a traditional cento, see http://myenchiridion.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html 

I decided to use my own poems as source material.  To keep it simple, I chose only from poems written in 2016.  My attempt is titled “Only About Light”

Only About Light

Sometimes I wake, not because there was music—
here the silence deafens as only silence can.

Suppose the world was only about light—
the ultra-sentient particles.

I convince myself each fear is a chimera
while we sleep the Earth rotates east

the song dog
lifts his muzzle to the wind

and desert dog song soars skyward in a moon moan
but he doesn’t understand the depth of sky.

 

Carol A. Stephen
April 7, 2016

 

*the phrase, song dog is quoted from Alice Notley’s Culture of One


Embed from Getty Images

 

For more centos also check out Newfoundland poet, Mary Dalton, who wrote Hooking.  Each of the poems in this collection used lines from a specific location in the source poems, for example a poem might consist of lines that were the 9th line of each source poem.  Her process is detailed at the back of the book. Hooking, from Vehicule Press

At this link, Mary discusses her book in an interview with The Malahat Review’s John Barton.

 

 

NaPoWriMo 2016 Impromptu #6 Storm Sonnet

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Today’s Impromptu prompt over at Found Poetry Review comes from Noah Eli Gordon. Well, actually 10 prompts. You can see his suggestions (and poems by the other participants!) here at FPR.

So,  #1 sounds like a fun challenge, but I can’t see dining and recording the conversation of seven friends, then transcribing it and still writing a poem before midnight.  #2 was in a similar vein, but I needed to find 100 friends who’d have a fave anecdote about me… yeah, that isn’t happening today either (do I have 100 such friends?)  Those prompts both seemed like something from Kenny Goldsmith, I think.  And beyond the scope of what I can achieve today.  But something to keep in mind.  #4, maybe, taking all my inbox emails and removing the mail addresses (personally addressed ones though, no forwards, no listserv stuff) but would it be a poem?  #10 is funny, find and contact someone with the same name as Harvey Keitel and then ask him repeatedly for comments on his roles, to the point of making him on edge.  And then transcribe it. Oh, not done then, now you pitch it to mainstream media, then compile responses to your pitches and to the interview, and transcribe THAT into a work….well that’s another longtermer and not the kind of thing I do now.

I may try some of the others later on, but for today I decided on the sonnet, long enough to be a challenge and to offer some opportunities for quirk.

Here’s the prompt: #5: Write a sonnet in the modern key:

Line 1: narrate action, include at least two nouns
Line 2: ask a question without using “I”
Line 3: make a statement without saying “I”
Line 4: now say “I” in another statement
Line 5: use a fragment
Line 6: narrate another action, include one of the nouns from line 1
Line 7: ask a question using “I”
Line 8: use a fragment that
Line 9: spills into the next line
Line 10: now say “I” and include the other noun from line 1
Line 11: answer your first question
Line 12: make a statement that is in total opposition to line 3
Line 13: combine phrases from lines 5 and 8 here
Line 14: answer your second question

And my attempt:

 

Storm Sonnet

 

Wind howls through dim alleys—
What price the snows of early April?
No birds sing in this early spring storm.
I hear grey sadness in the voices of the wind.
A trick of the ear.
The alleys between these houses narrow to deadends.
Am I the only one to hear their music?
Their hollow echoes, their blank walls, not
even the mockery of graffiti–
I hear the wind in all its many voices.
The brave green shoots of budding plants lie dead with cold.
Outside my window, the robin’s cheerful song.
A trick echo glances off hollows in the walls.
And I am the only listener.


Embed from Getty Images

Carol A. Stephen
April 6, 2016

 

NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 5 a Three-Fer

NMP-BANNER-DToday I have a poem for each of three challenges, the NaPoWriMo.net, Poetry Super Highway, and the Impromptu #5 from Found Poetry Review.

 

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At NaPoWriMo

The daily prompt challenges us to consult seed catalogues and seek out heirloom plants as inspiration for a poem today.  I chose the suggested tomato plants, for the reason given: the names are so wonderful.  Here is my poem, Heirloom:

My source is an Ontario location, in order to use plants that I could actually grow here in the Ottawa area http://www.terraedibles.ca/index.html

 

HEIRLOOM 

Various heirloom tomato cultivars

Various heirloom tomato cultivars Wikipedia)

 

No one there is who does not love tomatoes
is what Frost should have said each spring,  as gardeners
turn to catalogues and dream their August dreams.

No Belgian chocolate for me, instead an Amazon Chocolate,
full of flavour in its flattened oval, sliced on a plate
beside the yellow-red streaks of Allegheny Sunset.

Ghosts in the shadows, silver-sheened leaves
of this year’s  prize Angoras garnish a summer salad:
yellow Apricots jostle Azoychkas and just ripe Banana Legs.

Believe It or Not, every one of them tomatoes.

Carol A. Stephen
April 5, 2016

(first line paraphrases  Robert Frost’s Mending Wall)

 

At Poetry Super Highway, today’s prompt was a fun write, encouraging us to write a Creation Myth poem for a kitchen item.  Here’s my attempt, a Creation Myth for Oatmeal.

 

CREATION MYTH: OATMEAL

In the beginning was the Flake,
flat, without colour. Flake needed substance,
to cling to its brothers, to form a greater whole.

Oatmeal directly from the packing.

Oatmeal directly from the packing. ( Wikipedia)

With the first rains from the heavens, each Flake knew joy.
Each Flake swelled into greatness as it welcomed
the worshipping moisture.

But the Flakes were not yet whole.
Their joy soon dimmed as they floated
without substance upon the waters.

Behold, the rain passed away and there came the sun.
And a second time each Flake swelled but
joy was elusive.

And the Flakes dreamed they must know water and warmth
together. They consulted Oracle who told them verily
to seek out the Lord High Bowl, that they must cluster there.

And the Flakes sought out Lord Bowl, and climbed inside
Bowl’s vessel. For the first seven days, they waited. The eighth day
the heavens opened and behold, there fell a sun shower.

Rain poured down into Bowl. Sun heated Bowl till it glowed.
And Flakes were transformed. On the ninth day Bowl beheld
Oatmeal and it was good!

Carol A. Stephen
April 5, 2016

Breakfast of raspberries, blueberries and oatmeal.

Breakfast of raspberries, blueberries and oatmeal. (Wikipedia)

High Fiber Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip Cookies. (Wikipedia)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finally, the Found Poetry Review prompt, today from Sarah Blake, calls for a poem that follows the rhythm of a song.Found Poetry Review

At first, I was imagining I’d need a month to even start to tackle this one. Until I remembered the blues.  It may be a bit of a shortcut, copout or cheat to go with that, since it is a rather simple form. But it’s what I went with and on a day when the thermometer has slipped well below zero (Celsius) the lyric is appropriate!

English: Comparison of Centigrade (Celsius) an...

Centigrade (Celsius) and Fahrenheit thermometer scales (Wikipedia)

Weather Blues

 

Don’t want that chill wind hangin’ outside my door
Said I don’t want that chill wind hangin’ outside my door
Bringin’ me blue fingers like it done before

It brings me the shivers, it brings me cold feet
Yeah, it bring me the shivers, an’ it bring me cold feet
Cold bringin’ me down when the weather ain’t sweet

Don’t want that chill wind hangin’ round my door
No, I don’t want chill wind hangin’ round my door
If it ain’t good for springtime, don’t want it no more

Wind blows in the mornin’, and all afternoon
I said it blows in the mornin’, and all afternoon
It ain’t good for springtime, and it ain’t good for June

Fridays it blows in, blows all weekend too
yeah Fridays it blows in, blows all weekend too
Come Monday morning, man, colour me blue

Don’t want that chill wind hangin’ outside my door
Said I don’t want that chill wind hangin’ outside my door
Bringin’ me blue fingers like it done before

 

Carol A. Stephen
April 5, 2016

 

 

NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 4 FPR Impromptu Le Jazz Hot

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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

First American edition of T.S. Eliot's The Was...

First American edition of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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.

 

 

 

PHOTO: CAROL A. STEPHEN

PAKENHAM, ON. FALL 2015

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:

wordle 3

 

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