Prompt #15: Kinetic Wordplay
Today’s prompt brought to us by poet Christopher Luna.
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Write a poem using the following words: kinetic, tendril, bliss, embolden, blossom.
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Reminders for Participants: You can post your poem below in the comments, offer a link back to your site where the poem is posted, or comment about the experience of writing the poem (without actually posting the poem). If you’re going to comment on other participant’s poems, please remember that this is not a critique space — comments should be kept thoughtful and supportive. Lastly, remember you don’t have to use the prompt to write your poem — they’re here for your inspiration but they’re certainly not a requirement.
Let the Wild Poeming Being!
Today’s poem is swift and not prompt-ed:
Daily, fall in love
Every night, kill your darlings
erase every word.
April 15, 2011 at 12:18 am
This poem popped up as Tina and I hiked yesterday morning and was finished not long after I got back home. Something about the daily practice of writing seems to have bumped something loose, and so far, among my Alzheimer’s poems, I have written three — for the first time — that have me in any way present in the poem.
–Bill
THE PERMISSIVE PERVERSITY OF NAMING
A green mound of leaves, and upright in their midst
three pink spires of checkerbloom; we call them that
not because they are checkered — they are striped
– but because soon their seeds will grow into a disk.
Around their feet lie a scatter of lesser blooms,
scarlet pimpernel, which are, truthfully, the tempered red
of tomato soup, not scarlet at all. (Kneel to peer
at the tiny center of each flower and it will reward you
with bruised purple, the green of limes, and butteryellow.)
Though flowers are not the reason for this poem,
beloved. I speak that word — beloved — and you turn
from the flowers to search for me. These days, I can never
be sure you see me, even when you look directly at me,
but I squeeze your hand and say it again — beloved
– and you squeeze back and nestle into my shoulder.
You are no longer my beloved, though that is still
the best word I have been able to find. We have moved
beyond beloved into some other realm, fragile and tender
and fleeting. You are leaving, steadily and surely,
your gaze already traveling beyond me. But the word
is a good, sweet word. Beloved. I try it once more,
liking its gentleness on my lips, and you lean closer,
till I feel the warmth of your breath through my jacket,
on this wintry day of spring, together in the midst of flowers.
April 15, 2011 at 6:53 am
the sedentary woman, rapidly aging,
_______memory favors the kinetic
struggles to remember
_______motion emboldens recall
flying downhill handsfree
_______collecting tendrils of sensory input
trailing honeysuckle chains
_______bliss blossoms in the cerebellum
April 15, 2011 at 7:57 am
off prompt
APRIL 15TH
i went back to bed to read for a few minutes waiting for the cup of coffee I just drank to hit my system. It’s still raining in Portland. Seventy days of rain in the last three months.
The entire city smells like a beach cabin. I even had a momentary crisis of faith and wondered if I should build a boat, but instead rented and watched ‘Water World’ to see how Kevin Costner survived when water covered our planet.
i”m all peaceful like, reading Lydia’s Yuknavitch’s memoir. Well as peaceful as one can be while reading ‘The Chronology of Water’, when the dog jumps on the bed and lays on top of me. Chest on chest front paws pushing the book down on my face.
She’s not the cuddly type. She wants something. Right now she wants to go run and check out her trees–the ones with possible squirrels in them.
Today is tax day. I have am not ready. I received a letter from them yesterday with a notice to levy my bank account my credit union my employers, because they say I have been asked to pay and still have not. The total back taxes with interest is twenty one hundred dollars, which I do not have, which the very very nice tax officer asked me if I could “borrow it from friends?” Further more the letter explains, “as of today, (yesterday) my bank will hold all moneys in my accounts and all future checks deposited, for twenty one days, after which it will give it to the IRS” which means that all the checks I have written and not cleared as of “today” (yesterday), will bounce and of course incur an insufficient funds fee.
i wonder if they will take my truck.
The dog is smiling an inch from my face and I feel her tail wagging like crazy. Okay, I tell her let’s go to the river. But before I get up I have a good cry. There is still plenty of tears to go around.
April 15, 2011 at 8:19 am
On prompt but pretty much off everything else I think. Too much else on today to put the requisite effort into this one.
‘Kettle’ is at http://wp.me/pbg4K-4a.
April 15, 2011 at 11:52 am
Off-prompt today, mostly because I wrote it on the plane and couldn’t get online to see it!
http://yearofthebooks.wordpress.com/2011/04/15/poem-a-day-15/
April 15, 2011 at 12:55 pm
A stab, unfortunately inwards (also inspired by a quote I saw):
emboldened by the sky
perched among sweet blossoms
one old little bird looked
beyond the dawn’s tendrils
dreamed off to another bliss
with one last kinetic kiss
(Also at http://lovesgoodfood.com/jason/posts/Day_15_2011/ )
April 15, 2011 at 2:43 pm
I actually went with Robert Lee Brewer’s prompt over at his Poetic Asides blog today. The goal was to write a profile poem, and the subject spoke to me, especially because of a, well, slightly awkward conversation I had with a lover last night.
http://dorlamoorehouse.com/2011/04/15/napowrimo-day-15-4/
April 15, 2011 at 3:08 pm
What bliss today brings,
such a kinetic season,
which emboldens tendril,
shoot, and vine
to blossom.
April 15, 2011 at 4:21 pm
Pingback: Poem#15 – First Spring « Black Satin
For today:
http://jacquezyon.wordpress.com/2011/04/16/poem15-first-spring/
April 15, 2011 at 5:39 pm
Sometimes ya gotta make monkey juice out of an onion
The old man stood bent, emboldened
Arms straight out grasping the axe
Pitching it forward in kinetic bliss
The gray-spotted blade sinking into the green wood
Marred with with knots down to the earth
Sunken with moss and the wet tendrils of ivy
Trailing through brown cast-off rhododendron blossoms
April 15, 2011 at 7:09 pm
Draft the First, Time for Revision
You should get a life
I say on my way to lunch.
A real life.
You should get a real life,
I say to myself.
Is this where I get my
mid-life crisis
spurning all to run
run after my bliss?
And what bliss? I have chased
this art, these colors, this thing
all these years
to some acclaim and for what?
I have had the moments of fame.
I have had the contented moments
looking at my work unfolded.
I have the room of materials
stirring me to move. Move on to the next.
The work whips me onward.
If I can’t get that mid-life crisis
British green MG, could I
get some friends? a lover?
someone glad to see me,
who makes my heart blossom
with a smile-like thing or more?
Point the way. Please.
Failing this, perhaps could I get
a few answers before sleep.
15 April 2011
April 15, 2011 at 8:13 pm
Pingback: National Poetry Month Day #15
Late–I’m tired.
Floral Sex
I would be
as a flower:
Sun pulls my bent face
upward. Bees,the original sex toy,
are emboldened by radical
nectar dripping in the throats
of rampant blossoms.
Tendrils sweep out from my treasure:
chalice of pistil,
bobbing powdered anthers
kinetic in the probing breeze:
It’s here–
X-rated floral
sex.
J. Pratt-Walter
April 15, 2011 at 9:21 pm
A day late, but… I had fun with this one.
http://feedingthegeek.tumblr.com/post/4682335791/on-choosing-a-typeface
April 16, 2011 at 10:22 pm
Late, but done!
http://thegermoftheidea.blogspot.com/2011/04/kinetic-wordplay.html
April 17, 2011 at 10:42 am
Starting to get caught up. My day 15 poem is here – scroll down.
http://erobintica.blogspot.com/2011/04/poetry-catch-up-day-14-through-day-19.html
April 20, 2011 at 12:39 pm