Sea Shanty for April 3 NaPoWriMo

napo2013button2Well, never thought I’d be writing a sea shanty, for sure! And I don’t think this is my forte! Here’s an excerpt from the prompt for Day 3: write a sea shanty (or shantey, or chanty, or chantey — there’s a good deal of disagreement regarding the spelling!). Anyway, these are poems in the forms of songs, strongly rhymed and rhythmic, that sailors might sing while hauling on ropes and performing other sea-going labors. Probably the two most famous sea shanties are What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor? and Blow the Man Down. And what should your poem be about? Well, I suppose it could be about anything, although some nautical phrases tossed into the chorus would be good for keeping the sea in your shanty. Haul away, boys, haul away!  And here’s the link so you can see all the info: http://www.napowrimo.net/

English: Simplified (one voice) music score fo...

English: Simplified (one voice) music score for the traditional sea shanty “Drunken Sailor”. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

MY ATTEMPT:

Sail Away Shanty

A capstan crew would chant a particular type o...

A capstan crew would chant a particular type of shanty in order to coordinate their movements (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Cast off the rope lads, and pull up the anchor
Yo ho and sail away now
Come every fellow and fancy-vest banker
Yo ho and sail away now

Bound for the Indies, southward we go
Yo ho and sail away now
Gone for the winter, back in the snow
Yo ho and sail away now

we’ll look for palm trees on far away shores
Yo ho and sail away now
We’ll land in Haiti or isles of Azores
Yo ho and sail away now

Sail away laddies, ye all sail away
Yo ho and sail away now
See you in winter, when we get our pay
Yo ho and sail away now.

Carol A. Stephen
April 3, 2013

English: Sea shanty choir Rolling Home of Ålan...

English: Sea shanty choir Rolling Home of Åland från Åland demonstrating the original use of shanties aboard Sigyn. The shanty man is standing in the middle. A capstan has been moved to where the performance is easier to see. Svenska: Den åländska Shanty-kören Rolling Home of Aland sjunger och demonstrarar användningen av shantyn ombord på Sigyn under sång- och musikfesten “Ta i ton” 2011. Shantymannen i mitten. Ett gångspel har flyttats till en för förevisningen lämplig plats. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

April 2 Writer’s Digest PAD Challenge poem

napo2013button2

Today’s poem is written to the prompt from Robert Lee Brewer on the Writer’s Digest Poem a Day blog challenge. It’s Two for Tuesday, to write a dark poem or a light poem, or both. I followed Robert’s example and combined references to both in this short poem. It riffs off a poem by Katy Ellerman, a fellow classmate from ModPo.

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2013-april-pad-challenge-day-2

 

The Dark OutsideMarch 2008 Poetry Reading and NC backup copy032
   after Katy Ellerman

Struggle.  Darkness of senses.
Fight fog-blur, sightless.

Before, there was light. Before the blinding of eyes.
There is no turning-away. In this place
I make my peace with where I am.

Enfolded. Enveloped. Silence. I stand
against the dark outside this circle. Remember light.

Inside the heart, a flutter of doves.

Carol A. Stephen
April 2, 2013

Sagrada Familia doves

Sagrada Familia doves (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

April 1st Poem for National Poem Month

Prompt #1 from NaPoWriMo is to write a poem beginning with a first line from another poem. Here is my poem, which inspired the title of my chapbook, Above the Hum of Yellow Jackets, that starts with a first line from Yusef Komunyakaa‘s You and I Are Disappearing.

I’m told that posting poems on a blog is considered by some publishers to be published work, so this is my offering instead. (For the record, though, I DID write a poem. Not only does it begin with the first line of another poem, but coincidentally is an arrival poem, which goes to the prompt over on the Writer’s Digest PAD Challenge   

I didn’t look at that one till after the poem was already done, but since it starts “She simply arrives one day”, a line from Imagining Cassandra by Rhonda Douglas, it is so appropriate to the prompt.

bigstock_Yellow_Jacket_8341897Here’s my poem:

It Changes the Hour

The cry I bring down from the hills
spills upon the surface
of a stone skipping the pond
on a morning in summer.

It bleeds into the sound of the day,
an octave above the hum of yellow-jackets.
It is scented with limes and olives.
Children dance in its tremolo.
The cry I bring down from the hills
waits to be heard.
Light bends into the songs it sings
inside our heads.

It changes the hour,
perfumes it with mountain air
the colour of hummingbirds
the taste of strawberries.

 the first line is from a poem “You and I Are Disappearing —
                Bjorn Hakansson”  by Yusef Komunyakaa

photo: nrpphoto.BIGSTOCK.COM

Day 30 NaPoWriMo Remembering

Day 30 NaPoWriMo

And now, the final prompt. Artist and writer Joe Brainard is probably best remembered for his 1970 poem/memoir I Remember. The book consists of multiple statements beginning with the phrase “I remember,” including:

I remember my first erections. I thought I had some terrible disease or something.

I remember the only time I ever saw my mother cry. I was eating apricot pie.

I remember when my father would say “Keep your hands out from under the covers” as he said goodnight. But he said it in a nice way.

I remember when I thought that if you did anything bad, policemen would put you in jail.

Today’s prompt asks you to write a poem incorporating at least three “I remember” statements. This invocation of memory seems a fitting way to end our month together.

Good luck, and happy writing

So here is my attempt:

Youths playing the Red Rover game.

Red Rover game Wikipedia

I  Remember Being Ten

I remember the first taste of plums, bitter black
skin shielding  the sweetness in the flesh.

I remember winters in childhood, the temperature  sub zero,
the toboggan swift over snow, slam of spine against hard impact.

I remember the flash and flicker of black and white test patterns that filled
the television screen, dartboard geometrics, Indian head in full dress

I remember street games, the call and response, Red Rover, dibs and eeny
meeny counts, the sewer grate chosen as  first base, impatient warnings: CAR!

I remember Granny:  whispered warnings agains  opening the door to strangers,
Scotch mints in her pocket, her conspiratorial shush, finger firm against lips,

her sensible Oxford shoes.

Carol A. Stephen
April 30, 2012