Tag Archives: Poetry

Day 24 Na PoWriMo Write a Lipogram

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Day 24 NaPoWriMo says: “Today’s prompt is a bit of a doozy . . . so if you feel like you don’t have it in you, feel free, as always, to take a pass! Today’s challenge is a lipogram/Beautiful Outlaw/Beautiful In-Law. A lipogram is a poem that explicitly refrains from using certain letters. The most classic letter to swear off, at least for English speakers, is “e.” A Beautiful Outlaw is a variation on a lipogram, wherein you refrain from using any of the letters in a certain name. For example, if you chose the name Sarah, then you could not use s, a, r, or h. A Beautiful In-Law is another variant, wherein you only use the letters in a certain name (better pick a long name!)
You might think that any lipogram would end up having to be short, but some people have been successful at virtuoso performances in this vein — check out this excerpt from Christian Bök’s Eunoia, in which he uses no vowels except i. It goes on for nine pages!”

I guess the weather has got me down a bit, still cold although the sun,as it sets, is at its brightest so far today.  Still, the day made me think of storms and cold.

So for the prompt, I chose not to use the letter “i”.  Here’s my effort.

That Sort of a Day

A vacant acorn husk
spawns dream of tree, the oak
drops seed on ground to feed

Acorn hoarded by Acorn Woodpecker

Acorn hoarded by Acorn Woodpecker (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

woodpeckers and jays as they watch for the soak
of groundwater under trees that tease
yellows and reds to dance under

the faffer of breeze, scuddy weather
set free today the greys and blues of sky.

A storm comes on, then gone before
wet drops reach the lawn.
Today the best place to be

a warm bed or curled upon
the sofa where a fat furry cat
warms the soles of cold feet.

Carol A. Stephen
April 24, 2012

Day 23 NaPoWriMo Ekphrastic Prompt

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Day 23 NaPoWriMo The prompt said:
” Today, I challenge you to write an ekphrastic poem — that is, a poem that responds to or is otherwise inspired by a work of art. Probably the most famous ekphrastic poem in English is Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn, but there is no lack of modern ekphrastic work. Take Auden’s Musee de Beaux Arts or Robert Lowell’s For the Union Dead. So go forth and find a painting, sculpture, photograph, or even a piece of music, and use it to inform your poem for today. Art creates art — it’s so efficient!”

I used a favourite photo I took a couple of years ago at a writing retreat at Bridgewater, a place for artists and writers about two hours from home.

Where Have All the Poets Gone?

A Contemplation of Poets

On hot summer days even the sun
floats on the river for relief
hard bright light fading trees
to a blur that only remembers soft green.

Shade offers daylilies reprieve
from heat, yet their petals
curl and fade, prepare to fall.
Only the bright chairs

appear untouched by heat and fade
their colours brilliant even
in the shade. They wait. Poets
not seen but somewhere
near and always contemplating.

Carol A. Stephen
April 23, 2012

NO-Comfort Zone Week ending April 16

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This week I challenged myself to drive to a Tree Reading Series Masterclass, a  poetry workshop being held about an hour away but across the provincial border to Quebec.

The Canadian War Museum, Lebreton Flats (under...

Portage Bridge Ottawa Canada (Wikipedia)

I am not sure why this caused me concern, except that it was the first time I’d go all by myself, and there are some tricky twists and turns to get into Quebec. Ottawa and Gatineau are separated by the Ottawa River. There are several bridges, each with their own challenges as one tries to find the route to Val-des-Monts.

Rural scene in Val-des-Monts, Outaouais, Quebe...

Rural Val-des-Monts, Outaouais, Quebec, Canada (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And then, once there, to offer up poems for critique not only to fellow poets, both friends and strangers, but also with the editor of one of Canada’s most prominent literary magazines. This would be John Barton of the Malahat Review. Once again, though, my concerns were quickly put to rest as we all settled in to the work at hand. Our retreat was at the marvelous Lilipad just north of Val-des-Monts, hosted graciously by Lise Rochefort and Adrian Jones. Lise and Adrian (who spent his birthday yesterday doing this: Happy Birthday, again, Adrian!) prepared the marvelous food for the group and the space for us to work. The setting too is lovely, right on the lake, where spring is just starting to share daffodils with us.

But I must say that the knowledge John Barton shared with us, and the quick and easy rapport among the poets far outshines the daffodils, bright yellow as they may have been!  Thanks to everyone for making this a great weekend for my birthday and for National Poetry Month!

Carol A. Stephen

Carol

Day 11 NaPoWriMo Poem Using the Senses

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Quaternary clay in Estonia.

clay Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For this prompt, I went back to a poem from January when I tried pottery for the first time. The first poem described how I adjusted to the idea that sticky fingers were not necessarily a bad thing, and on how the clay felt as I worked it. This time, I tried to bring in all 5 senses, as the prompt asked.

Fingers Learning to Mold Clay

the first touch sticky, resistant
as fingers hesitate to work the clay.
but the brick is cool and moist, faint-scented
the smell of clean earth. It waits
to be poked, prodded, pounded and flattened.

Hands begin to work, ears tuning to
the soft squish of clay whispering secrets
to striations on the mold that
birthmarks its flattened face.

As I watch, it shape-shifts, sharp corners
soften and round. How quickly it dries,
figures formed from rolled clay fingers
now reluctant to join themselves to plate.
I lick my fingers, the taste like dry earth
and salt, a hint of cool spring rain.
The clay softens and seals, no longer brick.
Three penguins cluster there upon
a textured earthen plate.

Carol A. Stephen
April 11, 2012

Carol A. Stephen