If you’ve been here a time or two, you know I’ve always believed there is a poem out there everywhere. So many of my ideas for poems come from people I see and places I go that I’m really never at a loss for something to write about. I’m constantly saying, “Now, there’s a poem.”
Still I like to work with prompts. I keep a list of them that I get from the Writer’s Digest’s poetry editor, Robert Lee Brewer and his Poetic Asides blog. He posts a prompt every Wednesday. Sometimes he’ll combine it with a request that we write in a specific poetry form, e.g., Haiku, Nonet, Luc Bat, Tanka, Ekphrastic, Quatern, Tritina. So I get a prompt, but a poetry lesson as well.
Robert writes about things he knows and loves. The words are simple, homey, about his wife and children. I relate to that.
He also conducts two poem-a-day challenges a year in April and November. I’ve participated for the last several years. At the end of the month he asks us to submit a chapbook of our best few poems from the challenge, and from those he picks winners. I haven’t won yet, but I keep on writing. I win just by doing that.
Here’s one of his recent prompts:
Write a super poem. Fans of sports, advertising, and half-time shows may have recently watched the Super Bowl. Comics and movies fans know all about super heroes AND super villains. Folks familiar with quarter machines surely are acquainted with the super ball (a bouncy little sphere of endless amusement).
Here’s Robert’s attempt:
“Supernatural”
Some say it must be magical,
while others claim it’s mystical–
this supernatural moment
that many say is heaven sent
and anything but logical.
Here’s mine:
Not Super
Actually there’s nothing super
going on right now.
I’m working on my novel.
But, that’s been going on since 2010.
And believe it or not,
I’m now on Revision Ten –
isn’t that absolutely crazy?
I must admit the review comments
I received from two of my favorite
reviewers needed looking into
and action, their comments
were that good.
So this week I started
to sit down every day
and work at least three hours on the book
then take another hour or two
to write a poem, post a blog piece,
or, if necessary, take my husband,
who’s slowly recovering
from his fourth pneumonia
in the last two years,
to his doctor.
But I’d rather count revisions
than number of times sick.
It’s much more healthy
for the soul.
And just so you know,
only when my guy
is finally cured will I use
the word “super” again.
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