by the Read Write Poem Staff
We’ve been in the trenches for a few days, and so Mark Stratton says it’s time to get personal! Here’s Mark’s prompt for Day #5:
Make your poetry personal. I mean, it already is, right? It’s thoughts, observations, deep, dark, personal feelings and stories dressed up in pretty words and oblique descriptions. You get it, and some others get it.
Still others see it as something else entirely, which is great, honestly. We have our own set of filters our lives go through, and this influences how we interpret things. It is part of what makes reading poetry fun and interesting for me.
Today, let’s make poetry really personal. Give poetry, as you write it, a name. Possibly a gender. And a personality. A poet I know has written (and continues to write) a series of poems based on this principle, and I shamelessly ripped it off (with permission, of course) and made a poem I called “Sasha.” Sasha is many things, all at the same time, yet all are Sasha/poetry to me.
So it’s your turn. Give poetry — how you view poetry, what poetry means to you, your poetry — a name. Now write a poem suits your view or vision. 
Reminders for everyone
Read the Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Challenge Kickoff post for details on how the challenge works — and how you can engage with Read Write Poem this month, no matter what your personal writing challenge is for the month of April.
Please read this page to find out how Read Write Poem’s prompt posts work. Remember that work linked from any post this month is shared in precisely that spirit: sharing, as opposed to critiquing. If you haven’t done so already, please read all the pages under About in the navigation bar.
So my blog won’t load tonight, so I will just post here and post it there when it decides to work again.
Hank,
You need to stop it.
You’re pissing me off.
I love you.
I love everything about you.
Your rhythms, your many forms,
your metaphors, your diction.
But right now,
I don’t love you.
I don’t love how you come and go.
Your inconsistency drives me mad.
If you’re going to be with me,
be with me all the time.
When you’re gone,
part of me is missing.
My tongue is leaden,
my eyes cloudy.
When you’re here
life is brighter –
images dance around me,
celebrating the perfect word,
emotions caress my soul.
I am content and in love.
But when I turn,
you’re gone again
and my world dims.
You are the worst addiction.
I love you.
I need you.
I just wish you felt the same.
Evelyn N. Alfred replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 10:04 pm
Nice poem Jenn. I wish poetry felt the same way about me too.
Kristen McHenry replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:36 pm
Describes my feeling exactly!!
erindavis replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:45 pm
You had me at Hank!
http://www.inkingthepaper.blogspot.com
My Love Eternal
To you my love;
my love eternal.
To a long journey,
and safe travel.
May thy light be a guide
in dark nights of aloneness.
PJF 1979
When I lost the love of my life this poem came to me in the middle of a thunderstorm as I sat in a ticket booth at an amusement park I worked at that summer.
http://katharinewhitcomb.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-5-ars-poetica.html
I couldn’t think of poetry as separate but as a “we.”
http://wintermintfruit.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-poem-is-my-pet.html Not too confident about this one, but let so it is! Five days done, woo!
http://rosettathurman.posterous.com/napowrimo-poem-4-and-the-registers-go-cha-chi
Here’s my poetry for the day – it has 3 names – its at http://www.zevoice.blogspot.com/
I invite critique – Thanks!
Here’s mine. Took a while getting around to it, but I’m glad with how simple it is.
Like Water
Behind a name
Lies expectation
Be soft
Bold
Strong
Fearless
Or beautiful.
But what if
I’m not just
Any one?
My day #5 poem:
http://robin-turner.blogspot.com/2010/04/poetry.html
This one was fun!
I’m coming in under the wire, but it’s still Monday!
http://freckledwriter.blogspot.com/2010/04/she.html
Don
He’d like to have
a word with you
about electrical outlets,
the way they harbor
lightning’s dreams.
He longs to know
why windmills tilt
toward each other
even in stillness,
and to celebrate
the silent promise
saturating every breath.
Sometimes he stands
quietly framed
in a doorway,
pretending to be
in a Hopper painting.
He is a lover
of books, how
each one provides
a haven for language,
taming it just enough
to lull us all
into believing
in something.
Kelly replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:06 pm
I love this, Don — especially the opening. Very nice work!
Kelly replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:12 pm
Oh, duh – *your* name isn’t Don. Sorry, Robert!
Sometimes it’s good to let go. Ah, I can’t imagine day 16 from here! Alas! I made it with 21 minutes to spare.
http://scriptophobe.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-5.html
http://tasmith1122.wordpress.com/2010/04/05/rwp-napowrimopoetic-asides-day-5/
Hey everyone, I didn’t follow the prompt today. Here’s my day 5 poem or a draft, anyway…
What We Bring Home
Food and the bag the food came in,
and the flier stuffed in the bag
that you didn’t ask for;
Damp leaves and dust
hitching a ride on your shoes.
Souvenirs and used books;
Shiny earrings bought on sale
to lift the mood that you also brought home;
A ballpoint pen from the mechanic’s
that still smells of motor oil.
The tin full of buttons and thread
that belonged to the old woman
who still sings to you though the radio;
The golden puppy that grew up too fast;
Work, and the weight of the winter sky.
Meaningful and meaningless, mingled
accumulations of a life.
Yourself too, of course,
your body with all its humming cells,
Unchanged yet new each day.
And if you are very lucky:
People you love
who love you back.
Warrior
Now, it’s obvious
I ain’t no pretty petunia
The plight of the delicate flower
is notably lost, in my regard
I ain’t wholly—
Mary-mother-of-God
Although we do share
in common knowledge & body parts
I ain’t no Good Night Irene
And, I ain’t no lady in red
or waiting, I am the evidence of
life on other planets, and
fundamentally familiar plains
most days, and most nights
I can be found, in the lounge
on circumstance and feeling
where love gets you an ear-full
of faith, a little sumpthin’ta
chew on depending on your
taste for the word, I am
the blue wings of a fiery bird
at times, and could so
be called rebirth, but
everyone calls me Louise
pamela sayers replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:41 pm
Geisha,
Nice one you have got here!
Pamela
rallentanda replied:
April 5th, 2010 at 11:50 pm
You sound pretty good Louise.Bet you’re a committed recycler and make a mean chilli con carne.:)
azha irving replied:
April 6th, 2010 at 12:45 am
Thanks Pam & Rallen… this piece wants to be longer but i thought i would save it for the edit.
P.S. Rallen thanks for the feedback i think i will work those in… i love it!
United States of Tara
Mood swings alter behaviors
Revealing itself through characters
Clyde, Sultry Sage, François,
The clever imagination, the barefooted dreamer, the passionate admirer
All different yet attached. Connected to the beauty which surrounds each of us
Collect.
Share.
Inspire.
This is 15 minutes too late, but I am posting it anyway just for lamas:
Mr. Poetry
http://mmw113.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-5-mr-poetry.html
http://immortality-in-words.deviantart.com/art/NaPoWriMo-5-159730570
My poetry is trying
to find the path to where
she may find herself.
Shes walking round and
round on the coasts of
this island and trying
to find a path
or find where she
may have been
recent, or long
ago.
She hopes to find her
name, carved
in a tree or drawn
in the sand. Lost,
she keeps wondering
where shes been
here, or there, or
in the end
nowhere.
“Poetry” at
http://makeda42.livejournal.com/60191.html
Here’s a quick try at #5: “Poeta”
http://www.shewrites.com/profile/NancyHatamiya
It’s still day 5 for me so here goes: Writing Buddies
pamela sayers replied:
April 6th, 2010 at 12:10 am
Shari,
I couldn’t leave a comment on your blog. I want to tell I really like your muse. Good one.
Pamela
Shari Smothers replied:
April 6th, 2010 at 12:40 am
Pamela:
Thanks for saying so! I enjoyed yours too! I did get your comment on the blog too. I guess it must have gotten hung up or something.
Shari
http://seashelllz.livejournal.com/113158.html
Poem #5. “Analogies.” Posted at: http://troysworktable.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-5.html
This is where Crow gets to have his say. This is about as personal as it gets, even if it is somewhat oblique.
Gregory
April 5, 2010
Gregory, the rude and rowdy boy
who won’t give up my pen,
doesn’t play nice.
He won’t come when he’s called,
even if I say please, won’t
apologize when he’s erred,
and he surely doesn’t share.
Plus, he’s a biter.
Gregory, the sad and sullen boy
who likes to hold my pen,
is easily embarrassed.
And who can blame him?
He’s awkward, clumsy;
others mock his halting gait
and bad – no, poor … no, cra –
ah! His limited vocabulary.
Gregory, the shy and timid boy
who lives within my pen,
needs a little nurturing.
So I feed him images
sweetened with patience,
dress him in adjectives
from the finest vintage shops,
smother him with optimism,
and gently ask for my pen back.
“A N G E L”
Ok, one more for prompt # 5, instead of saving it for Tuesday and prompt #6:
http://inthemindswell.blogspot.com/2010/04/january-14-2002.html
Started reading all the poems on the post, wish I can comment on all of them, really good efforts from everyone.
Here is my # 5
http://brokeness.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-breathe.html
I had some trouble with this one at first, until I read some fo the early folks who posted. It made sense after that. It’s 11:43pm in San Diego. I need to work on these earlier!
http://meetinggrace.wordpress.com/2010/04/05/napowrimo-5/
“Electra”
Missiles steam into the stratosphere missing their mark
Bullets meant to wound don’t graze.
Garrotes lay unstrung.
Darkness envelopes space like heavy old wool. Tracers un-launched illuminate nothing.
The earth is not scorched.
Old wounds do not split open and weep.
Words lay one on top of the other unmoving.
A huddle of sentences circles itself whispering codes that the sidelines misunderstand.
Images melt like sands in the tide.
Metaphors transmute to vapor crumbling beneath the weight of an eye’s gentle touch.
Paper and ink disintegrate. Papyrus grows where great words nearly convened.
And the furies cry out that their prey has escaped.
Surely Apollo mocks them in their attempts, while Electra laments that the best part of her life is past.
My poem is here:
ragbone.wordpress.com
Here ya go.
http://self-intoxication.deviantart.com/art/Chastity-159750895
Mining Company Motto
http://ingeborgsblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-april-5th-poetry-personal.html
Here’s my poem for yesterday. I’m behind on this, but hope to keep up/catch up.
http://wp.me/pqWV4-6
Silver
She is a paradox
sometimes flowing like a new river after winter
pent up after being smothered in ice.
She retreats into a cave like a bear in hibernation.
Sometimes she is ever present in form
but absent in thought
like scorching concrete at the peak of summer.
She fumes when I cannot find words to convey my ideas.
She reaches her well utilized arm out
and pats me on the back with encouragement
when I fulfill her thoughts.
It is a constant tug of war for power with her
to give up or push through the barrier
revealing her chrome core.
The apex is never obtainable;
A constant odyssey
http://poetry-life-distilled.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-day-5.html
5/30 is up at http://www.ronniek.org.
Sorry for the delay. Internet was down for a couple days.
Note: the link is actually http://www.ronniek.org/napowrimo.
2 days late. Maybe 2 dollars short.
http://skankinmoon.wordpress.com/2010/04/07/please-make-no-mistakes/
A Frustrated Poet Named Bill
Life Cycle
First you hold them like a secret
you can only suspect is true.
Then soft knockings from within
Tap out messages for you.
Slowly the body allows escape,
You hold them in your arms,
dazed and milky, full of love,
pledged to defend from harm.
Then you hold them to your heart
and put them to the breast.
But they learn to walk away
like any other guest.
- Still trying to catch up, started a few days late because of traveling….
Introducing Geraldine
http://shannons-words.livejournal.com/154032.html