I Wish I'd Written This

Untitled Prose Poem

By Marianne Ipenburg

One of my last chores of the day is to sweep the floor. This task requires me to lift and move the chairs surrounding the table bases to reach all the crumbs. It is a slow process. There are often customers still talking, eating or sipping coffees at this time so I have them as an audience as I make my rounds. Some try to ignore my actions while others watch intently. A few make comments that they’d like to take me home to sweep their floors. Others do not say a word but I know they are watching. As soon as I get close to them they lift their feet in the air.

There is a fascination to sweeping. It is such an age old practice. People have swept since humankind first had floors. I suppose someone in a cave once picked up a broken branch and swept with it. The cave looked a little cleaner; the cave dweller felt a twinge of satisfaction and in time sweeping became the norm. We’ve been sweeping ever since—swish, swish, pat, swish. (Spit and polish would come later and probably originated during the Bronze Age.) The fascination patrons have as I sweep could have roots in some distant primordial call born from broken tree branches and fussy cave dwellers. As I sweep I become Shaman.

Prose poetry is defined as prose which resembles poetry in its language and rhythmic quality. This one builds quietly, the rhythm and the music of the language becoming more pronounced in the second paragraph, so that to me it moves gradually from prose into poetry.

It is also a 'small stone' — a kind of reflective writing originated by author Satya Robyn, described as 'a moment of paying proper attention'.  I came across this piece this morning (my time, 15 hours ago now) on a facebook page where people post their small stones. Some write them in verse, some in prose. To be honest, I don't think Marianne intended this piece as a prose poem; it was I who perceived it that way and fell in love with it on the spot.

She does write verse poems too, and also pieces which are clearly prose. Then there are some others which, again, I would class as prose poetry. She's not a famous writer, but a blogger like the rest of us. You can find more of her writing at her blog, west coast dilettante. She's also an artist, and you can find pictures of her art work there too.

I also like her other blog, Talking to the Teapot, recently begun. [As she points out in a comment below, it's not hers exclusively; she shares this one with some other writers.] It celebrates ordinary, domestic objects — in this not unlike her reverence for sweeping, in the piece above. It's no wonder I like her stuff; I place a high value on the sacredness of the ordinary.

She lives in Canada, on Vancouver Island, where, she says, 

I like to paint, draw, take snapshots, create bad art (but I think I’m improving a little), snoop at other people’s artwork, and write. I am also a hoarder of second hand books and a pretty good baker.

I think she's a pretty good writer, too!

Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Verse First ~ The Function of Freedom

Welcome to Verse First, where simple notions prompt amazing poems.

Today's notion?

The Function of Freedom

In "Bird by Bird,"  Annie Lamott's seminal instructions on writing and life, she quotes Toni Morrison when she says, "The function of freedom is to free someone else."

Lamott goes on to say, "... if you are no longer wracked or in bondage to a person or a way of life, tell your story. Risk freeing someone else. Not everyone will be glad you did. Members of your family and other critics may wish you had kept your secrets. Oh, well, what are you going to do?"

"Get it all down. Let it pour out of you onto the page. Write an incredibly shitty, self-indulgent, whiny, mewling first draft. Then take out as many of the excesses as you can." 

Write it all down, then carve away every excess. That, poet-friends, is your assignment this week. 

GO!

After you post your work on your website, use Mr. Linky to share it here. Leave a comment below if you like, and remember to support fellow poets by visiting and commenting on their work.

I look forward to reading your unflinchingly pared-down poems. ~ Kim

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Life of a Poet ~ Leslie Moon

Kids, we have a highly productive young writer and artist to visit with today. Leslie Moon, of  Moondustwriter's Blog, does it all - art, music, writing, photography, and all superlatively, from what I can see. She tells us “The moon is part of me.......I create with moondust," and I think she is right. Hop in, we're zipping down Highway One, along the migratory route of the Monarch butterfly, to Northern California. I am eager to plunge in, so pull your chairs in close, and we'll begin. 

[*All photos in this interview are copyrighted to Leslie Moon]

Poets United: Wow, kiddo, your “About” page is amazing, and you are still just a puppy! Let’s go back to the beginning. Did you grow up in California? Did your pursuit of your many gifts begin in childhood? What came first? Art? Music? Writing?

Poetry Pantry #151

An Image of the Coral Reef Near Heron Island

Greetings, Poets!  

Glad to see each of you here this week. Hope you each had a poetic week & also will share one of your poems here.

This is one of my favorite spaces to post.  I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your ONE poem.   Then visit other poets.  And I will too.  We ALL like comments, so if you link please DO spend time visiting others.  That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too, so we spread the Poetry Pantry word in the blogosphere.

Come back a few times on Sunday and Monday to see what's new.  Visit some strangers, and they will become new friends!  Making new friends and reading new poetry, what more could one want?

Also, don't forget to visit Poets United other days of the week.  For example, every Wednesday Kim posts a new "Verse First" prompt.  Hope you will join us there as well!  Sherry Blue Sky does a feature (it varies) on Monday, and Rosemary Nissen-Wade does "I Wish I'd Written This" every Friday!

If you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure, for those who are new here:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.

Enjoy!

I Wish I'd Written This

Last Lonely Flight

by Donall Dempsey

Butterflies that flew in 1932 
still held in that summer 

by the exquisitely neat calligraphy 
& cruel glinting pin. 

I wipe the dust from the glass 
& they gleam as if they still dream 

of being alive. 

i smash the glass 
clutch them in my hand & climb 

from attic to roof & slowly 

drawing myself up to 
my full height 

release them back into time 
smile as they flutter in the summer breeze 

of then & now 
their dead eyes taking it all in

clouds...trees...skies 

their one last lonely flight 
back into nothingness


Donall Dempsey, an Irishman based in England (at Guildford, Surrey, where he works as an English teacher) is one of various amazing poets I first met on MySpace and encountered again on facebook. It was hard to choose which poem of his to feature; he is prolific, and there are many I'd love to have written. He writes on all manner of subjects, and is particularly good at human relationships, from tender and funny recollections of his daughter when she was little, through grief over the loss of his beloved mother a few years back, to sensual love poems for Janice Windle, a poet and artist whom he met through poetry nearly five years ago. As far as I can gather, they fell for each other immediately and were obviously made for each other. While they write their own separate poems, they collaborate in the production of books and sound recordings, and in hosting poetic events. Also Donall is sometimes a subject for Jan's paintings.

Although it ranges over different styles of writing, Donall's voice is unique and unmistakeable. His work includes haiku, free verse and prose poetry. And when he posts his poems to facebook, he will often include the back story, in prose, for his readers. It's usually at least as fascinating, moving, and beautifully written as the poetry. I frequently feel like saying to him, 'Can I please have your imagination when you've finished with it?' His work is often imagined, probably even more often autobiographical, and even the autobiographical pieces reveal a very personal, imaginative way of looking at things. Luckily for his readers and audiences, I'm sure he'll never be finished with it as long as he lives.

One of his online biographies says:

Dónall has spent a lifetime loving words and images and will continue to do so. He believes poetry should always be an aural and oral experience. His early work in Dublin included performance on Irish radio and television with John Cooper Clark and Paul Durcan. He has been writing and performing regularly in London venues since 1986.

You can see and hear him in perfomance on YouTube. 

The lovely poem I chose for you here will be included in his forthcoming book, Being Dragged Across the Carpet by the Cat, which he says will hopefully be out in time for the July/August festival in Fermoy. (Oh, I didn't mention his wonderful, and often self-deprecating sense of humour. This book title is a good indication.)

Others of his poems can be found at PoemHunter, on facebook, and at a site called Poem Punch. He and Janice share a web page, Dempsey & Windle, where you can obtain their books. They also collaborate in spoken word poetry as Shadows of Our Former Selves.

Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Verse First ~ The Wild Truth

Welcome to Verse First, where simple notions prompt amazing poems.

Today's notion?

The Wild Truth

In "The Journey", a poem about saving one's own life, Mary Oliver tells us:

"It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen branches and stones."

Oliver speaks of the truth of a personal journey, the authenticity with which one must live to be fulfilled. And the fact is, the truth is wild. It fells branches grown rotten on the tree. It shakes foundations, sending stones down life's hills. It unearths inaccuracies and lets light shine on hidden facts.

The truth. It's wild. Write about it or one of its forms ~ Truth, Gnosis, Authenticity, Veracity. 

Post your work on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it here. Leave a comment below if you like, and remember to support fellow poets by visiting and commenting on their work. Here at Poets United we strive to support our members. Truth.

I look forward to reading poems unique to each of you. ~ Kim

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Poem of the Week~Notes Before Leaving

Kids, Grace of everyday amazing wrote a poem recently that seemed to speak to many of us, about how relationships sometimes continue from day to day, with a running inner commentary to accompany them. I loved this one! Grace took the beautiful photo on her banner, too. A talented girl!

Notes Before Leaving.........

If you should leave, don't make it on Sunday
       When I'm baking chicken topped with butter-  

Not on Friday, when I'm eager to come
       home from work, drooping eyelids, aching thumbs-

Monday might be a good day, when my mind
       dwells on unfinished work, like a sour rind - 

Thinking of pay cheque by Thursday, time flies
       like a beggar, as I file & refile -    

Instead, pack your bags on Tuesday after-
       noon, when I'm drunk with paints, pens & verses- 

Hands sag like autumn leaves,  forehead sweaty - 
       Outside, neglected plants sniffle on wet

Tissues, the lone tree snaps like rubber band - 
       I won't notice that you are gone - as planned -

     ***     ***     ***     ***     ***

Thank you, Grace, for all that you add to our poetic community!

Poetry Pantry - #150

Greetings, Poets!  

Spring & New Life (Goose and goslings)

Wasn't last week's Mother's Day Pantry delightful?  So many poignant entries.  I suppose that was really Poetry Pantry #150, but since it was a special edition and not numbered I have decided to label THIS Pantry Poetry Pantry - #150.   That means the Pantry (as it exists now) has been going for almost three years.   Oh, if you enjoyed the Mother's Day Pantry, we will give you a heads up that in June for Father's Day there will be a Father's Day edition.  So...plan ahead, if you wish.



I do hope that each one of you had a poetic week, and I hope that you will share one of your poems (old or new) here.. 

This is one of my favorite spaces to post during the poetic week.   I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your ONE poem.   Then visit other poets.  And I will too.  We ALL like comments, so if you link please DO spend time visiting others.  That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too, so we spread the Poetry Pantry word in the blogosphere.

Come back a few times on Sunday and Monday to see what's new.  Visit some strangers, and they will become new friends!  Making new friends and reading new poetry, what more could one want?

Also, don't forget to visit Poets United other days of the week.  For example, every Wednesday Kim posts a new "Verse First" prompt.  Hope you will join us there as well!  Sherry Blue Sky does a feature (it varies) on Monday, and Rosemary Nissen-Wade does "I Wish I'd Written This" every Friday!

If you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure, for those who are new here:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.

Enjoy!

I Wish I'd Written This

The Small Box

By Vasko Popa (1922 – 1991)

The small box gets its first teeth

And its small length
Its small width and small emptiness
And all that it has got

The small box is growing bigger
And now the cupboard is in it
That it was in before

And it grows bigger and bigger and bigger
And now has in it the room
And the house and the town and the land
And the world it was in before

The small box remembers its childhood
And by overgreat longing
It becomes a box again

Now in the small box
Is the whole world quite tiny
You can easily put it in a pocket
Easily steal it easily lose it

Take care of the small box

Vasko (aka Vasco) Popa was born in a part of Yugoslavia now known as Serbia. He studied Philosophy at the Universities of Belgrade, Bucharest and Vienna. During World War II he fought as a partisan, and was imprisoned in a German concentration camp. He went on to become an active and prominent figure in the literary life of his country.

You can find more of his poems here, and his books here. Wikipedia tells us: 'He created a unique poetic language, mostly elliptical, that combines a modern form, often expressed through colloquial speech and common idioms and phrases, with old, oral folk traditions of Serbia – epic and lyric poems, stories, myths, riddles, etc.'

Why would I like to have written this poem in particular? No rational reason — just that I fell in love with it when I first encountered it, decades ago, and have never fallen out of love. It appeals to that something in me that likes certain kinds of jokes or songs and not others, inexplicably. I am not alone; I believe it was his most popular piece. Something about it captures the imagination and I, for one, want to not merely take care of but cherish the small box.

However, if the poem is too mysterious for you, I can tell you that it has been analysed by his readers and students as being a metaphor for memories and the gradual growing up from childhood.

I have just discovered that he wrote a series of small box poems, and here they are. But I think none of them has the charm of the first, though the last one comes somewhere near.

Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Verse First ~ A Place in The Universe

Welcome to Verse First where simple notions prompt amazing poems. 

Today's Notion?

A Place in The Universe

"The universe is not really made up of atoms, it's made up of stories. It is through the sharing of our unique stories that we can arrive at a deeper connection with another person. I also may come to a deeper connection with myself, with my own truth -- by exploring that edge of authenticity."
       
          ~ Muriel Rukeyser 


Our writing has a voice whose characteristics and timbre are uniquely ours. We see the world in our own special way and perceive experiences differently than anyone else. Use YOUR unique voice. Share a poem about your place, role, mission, position in the world, in the universe. Explore the edge of your authenticity.



Post your work on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it here. Leave a comment below if you like, and remember to support fellow poets by visiting and commenting on their work. No linking and slinking away!

I look forward to reading poems unique to each of you. ~ Kim

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Poem of the Week ~ Grace-Moments

Kids, this poem by Janet Martin, of Another Porch, just says it all about families, how fast our children grow up, how full, with laughter and tears, our hearts are, as we look back on all the fleeting years. Janet has a way of making us aware  of what she calls "the beautiful ordinaries", reminding us to cherish them as they come. She posted this wonderful collage to accompany the poem, and I simply must include it. Check it out on Janet's site, where you can see it more clearly. It is precious.

GRACE-MOMENTS

Don’t grieve that it’s gone, wonder that it was.
Laugh that you lived and dance that you dared.
Inhale that it happened — and it was grace.  
Ann Voskamp a Holy Experience

...and so, that is what we do
slipping new seasons over our shoulders
like the earth wears spring, then summer,
fall then winter, 
snow after the dew...
moments melded by God's grace
into laugh lines on our faces
and memories that the heart embraces
as thought re-traces 
where feet cannot go

...for the heart is a harbor from which dreams set sail
or come home to anchor in time's shifting swell 

and all we can do is live in the moment
because
soon it will simply be
what once was...

J~
My kids birthdays make me a little sentimental:)

                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                 

As it turns out, I scheduled this a few weeks back, not even making the connection that this poem would follow Mother's Day - but it is actually the perfect follow-up to yesterday's Pantry. Thank you, Janet, for such a heartwarming poem, and for the  look back at all those busy, happy years. Yours is this week's Poem of the Week!

Poetry Pantry for (and about) Mothers Around the World

coolfreeimages.net

Hi kids! We have a surprise for you today. Given it is Mother's Day, we thought it might be fun to request poems by, to, for, or about mothers: our mothers, our being mothers, our bond with our children, mothers of the world: anything that comes from your heart, as we contemplate the importance of mothers on this special day.

 northerncancerstrategy.com

retronaut.com 

2006 John W. Galbreath

There are so many ways to mother.

We look forward to hearing you

"count the ways".

nature.com

impatientoptimists.org

I suspect there will be some very heartfelt and moving offerings 

in the Pantry this week.

livingcivil.org

I can't wait to hear about all of the mothers, whether we mother through giving birth, adoption, or through simply loving the children the universe sends our way. At my house, they keep on coming, the little ones, small wayfarers from rocky paths, and they fill my life with joy. I always need a kid or two around, otherwise I'd have to rent some!

commonswikimedia.org

I hope each of you is having a lovely Mother's Day, from coffee in bed (I know: "On what Planet?" hee hee), to looking at the faces of your children around the breakfast table, to phone calls from far and wide as grownup "kids" check in with their Moms. 

  

 dhs.state.or.us

Happy Mother's Day!!

And now...here is the procedure:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 6:00 p.m. (CDT). [We are leaving it up a little longer, this week,  to give everyone time to enjoy the goodies]. Even after it closes,  you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.

Enjoy!

I Wish I'd Written This

Brother Alvin
By Audre Lord (1934-1992)

In the seat that we shared in the second grade
there was always a space between us
left for our guardian angels.
We had made it out of the brownies together
because you knew your numbers
and could find the right pages
while I could read all the words.
You were absent a lot between Halloween
and Thanksgiving
and just before Christmas vacation
you disappeared
along with the tinsel
and paper turkeys
and never returned.

My guardian angel and I had the seat to ourselves
for a little while only
until I was demoted back to the brownies
because I could never find the correct page.

You were not my first death
but your going was not solaced by the usual
rituals of separation
the dark lugubrious murmurs
and invitations by threat
to the dignified grownups' view
of a child's inelegant pain
so even now
all these years of death later
I search through the index
of each new book
on magic
hoping to find some new spelling
of your name.

(from The Black Unicorn)


It must have been about 1987 when I admired Audre Lorde from afar at a women writers' conference in Melbourne, Australia, where she was one of the visiting stars. I remember her as a warm, handsome, rich-voiced woman, very much like this photograph which is obviously from the same era of her life. And the poetry was awesome in its directness and uncompromising power. It was a shock to me, as I gathered material for this article, to discover she died in 1992. (It was the year I was separating from my second husband, going bankrupt, and moving house. And it was before the internet. Even so, I'm surprised I missed that news.)

I like this particular poem for its evocation of the world of childhood, in an unsentimental but very real way which made me feel I was one of those children in that classroom. She's absolutely 'got' the way children mix magickal and mundane thinking as parts of the same reality.

In my writers' group today we were talking about adjectives. Is it really necessary to leave them all out in order to write well? We came to the conclusion that some are necessary, but not piling them on makes the ones you do use more effective. I can't help noticing Lorde's striking use of adjectives here — all four of them: 'dark lugubrious murmurs', 'dignified grownups', 'inelegant pain'.

As a black, lesbian, feminist poet, Lorde considered herself an outsider on all counts. Yet her poetry seems to me to speak to our common humanity, even when she is chronicling women of very different cultures.

She was a prolific writer who also produced essays and memoir.  You can get her books from Amazon here, and her Collected Poems here.

There are more of her poems at the very useful Poem Hunter website.

You can hear readings of her work on Youtube (by other people, but done well) and you can read her views here on poetry not being a luxury.

Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Verse First ~ Poetry Heals

Welcome to Verse First, where simple notions prompt amazing poems.

Today's notion?

Poetry Heals

"Poetry is natural medicine, it is like a homeopathic tincture derived from the stuff of life itself--your experience. Poems distill experience into the essentials. Our personal experiences touch the common ground we share with others."

          ~ Excerpted from Poetic Medicine: The Healing Art of Poem-Making

Your task for this week's Verse First is to write succinctly and boldly about a personal experience. As you do so, rest assured that your readers will share some common ground. Be aware that the writing heals you and the reading heals others.

The only rule: No more than 100 words. Succinct. Bold. GO!

Post your work on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it here. Feel free to leave a comment below, and please support our fellow poets by visiting and commenting.

I look forward to reading poems unique to each of you. ~ Kim

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Life of a Poet - Robyn Greenhouse

Kids, I know you have come across  Robyn Greenhouse at Adventures in Laughter on your travels through the 'sphere. Robyn participates faithfully at Poets United, and her posts are rich with the humor of daily living in an animated, lively family. We're zipping over to the eastern seaboard for this interview, kids, and looking down from above, we can see the glorious spring blossoms lavishly decorating the landscape. As we pull up out front, I can hear laughter.....so this must be the place!

P.U.: Robyn, it's so nice to be visiting with you at last! Would you like to tell us where you live and who you share your life with?

Poetry Pantry #149

Tawny Owl (Hanstedt, Germany)

 

Greetings, Poets!  

 



I do hope that each one of you had a poetic week, and I hope that you will share one of your poems (old or new) here.. I enjoyed the bird picture I shared last week so much that I looked for another bird photo for this week.  It comes from Wikimedia Commons, my usual public domain source.  Bird photos always make me yearn to take my binoculars out into the woods, find a place to sit, and just wait and hope for interesting birds to pass.  My granddaughter has become quite interested in birds, so perhaps someday this spring we will do that. 

This is one of my favorite spaces to post during the poetic week.   I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your ONE poem.   Then visit other poets.  And I will too.  We ALL like comments, so if you link please DO spend time visiting others.  That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too, so we spread the Poetry Pantry word in the blogosphere.

Come back a few times on Sunday and Monday to see what's new.  Visit some strangers, and they will become new friends!  Making new friends and reading new poetry, what more could one want?

Also, don't forget to visit Poets United other days of the week.  For example, every Wednesday Kim posts a new "Verse First" prompt.  Hope you will join us there as well!  Sherry Blue Sky does a feature (it varies) on Monday, and Rosemary Nissen-Wade does "I Wish I'd Written This" every Friday!

If you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure, for those who are new here:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.

Enjoy!