Darn Good Poetry: the life factor

L.L. here, for Random Acts of Poetry. Some of my best poems are found on trips. I don’t think that’s because more poems live in Paris or San Antonio. I think it’s because I live when I travel.

At home, I can forget about living and slide into mere existence, so many are my distractions. But on the road I notice things. No one interrupts my contemplation of the waitress in her pink faux-silk at the Asian buffet, while she eyes me. I’m attuned to the color and texture of my socks and scarf.

Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge, author of Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words explains, “Poems hang out where life is.” And I like how she recounts an incident where she gets (literally) saturated by life when she falls into a creek. She writes, “I’ve looped back to the bridge now, where the oak gall continues its circle-diving dance in the falls. My drenched dress clings to my calves. I realize I’ve become part of the action. I’m not just watching any more and that’s where the poem hides, underwater where I slipped in, where my shadow joins the fishes, where my dress, blue and purple, is the reflected lily pad, where I’m the poem, outside of time, on a poem walk at One Mile.”

This week, try to find a single moment to really live. Standing in the grocery line, changing your car’s oil, sipping green tea, plucking new berries in the garden, kicking a soccer ball. Then write it down. You can begin, middle, or end your poem with these words, “I slipped into…” Or not. Just post your poem by Thursday July 2nd and let me know about here or on my blog.

Happy living, happy writing.

Our first featured poem is from Marcus Goodyear…

As the Deer

We owe it to each other
to share what white tail already know.
When the pressure changes, they run
together, hooves clacking across asphalt
then silent on the dewy lawns.

I also liked this, in response to the Apophasis prompt, from nAncY…

n o t

there is no guarantee
that a flight to indianapolis
will not land in grand junction

this life is not always a
smooth ride of yes and
of course you can

a bed is not always
made of fluffy down

a king is not always
born in a castle

no does not always
mean that you are not loved

and silence does not
mean that no one is listening

Last minute, I heard from Tony, who happened upon my blog through Billy Coffey’s giveaway. Glad he stumbled in and shared his poem Country Rain. Here’s an excerpt…

I had sat there watching it come.
It marched purposely across the fields
and then halted just yards away
as if bashful in its desire of me.

ALL RAP PARTICIPANTS:
Monica’s Pilgrim Longing
Sally’s Skinny Dipping
Jim’s 76th and Tidbits
Ann’s The Din Undoes Us
Milton’s To a Friend, on the Death of Her Father
Marcus’s As the Deer
nAncY’s not
Mom2Six’s Quest
Claire’s Untangling and Twisted Tale
Tony’s Country Rain
LL’s Muse
Cindy’s Lucid Thoughts
Sara’s Woods
Deb’s Prodigal Mothers
Simple Country Girl’s I Do Not Have

Tulip art by nAncY. Used with permission. Post written by L.L. Barkat.

Tagged as: how to write poetry, poetry prompts, random acts of poetry