Tag: National Poetry Month

April’s End

~ Christine Goodnough ~ 12 Comments
Image: Agata — Pixabay

Well, May 1st is at the door and April, with its poetry writing challenge, comes to an end. Thanks everyone, for bearing with me while I went on my poem-writing bent.

I’m glad I accepted the challenge; I’ve learned a lot about interesting poetry forms and exercised my creative muscles. The NaPoWriMo and Writer’s Digest sites have posted inspiring prompts that I’d still like to try sometime.

It seems that our winter is also over. Snow has melted, trees are budding, birds are singing in the woods beside us. For me this winter was a tough one, but my oncologist tells me the pills are working and ridding my body of leukemic cells. My blood test last week looked very good. Now that May’s here, it’s time for me to exercise other muscles, do some spring cleaning, sewing, digging in the soil.

Brian, over at Writing from the Heart with Brian, has posted a list of 100 things he’s thankful for. Take a quick hop over and read his list, see how many things you have in common. His post has inspired me to ponder on the subject. Can I list 100 things I’m thankful for?

Oh, easily, once I start considering all the everyday joys! Maybe I’ll start off in May by posting a short list every day, a dozen things I’m thankful for – and perhaps my list will include a short poem or story. Also, I’ve come across some intriguing words in books I’ve read recently that I’d like to incorporate into some posts.

So for now….

Farewell my lovely
April muse,
now I choose
spade over pen
But if
inspired by
a colorful bug
or the song of a bird
in the nearby glen,
I feel your touch again,
well then…
Image by Barbara A Lane — Pixabay

The Ragtag Daily Prompt for today is COLORFUL

The Ever-Present Hills

~ Christine Goodnough ~ 2 Comments 
Above the mists
we straggle through
with dark visions
of dread and doom
high above us still
the ever-present
ever-watchful hills
lift up your eyes
from whence comes
your help
your solid  Rock.
look above these
worries and woes
the eye of faith
will see the shadow
of His sheltering hand.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Psalm 121:1-3

A Poet I Admire

~ Christine Goodnough ~ Leave a comment

Before April Poetry Month ends, I want to pay a small tribute poet Ted Kooser, who whose verses I’ve enjoyed courtesy of our public library.

Part of the bio at his official website:
Ted Kooser is a poet and essayist, a Presidential Professor of English at The University of Nebraska-Lincoln. He served as the U.S. Poet Laureate from 2004-2006, and his book Delights & Shadows won the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for poetry. His writing is known for its clarity, precision and accessibility.

Accessibility’s the key word that made his verses so enjoyable for me. Even with my limited enlightenment I could read his verses and understand them. I was happy to discover that his books are available on Amazon, in hard cover, paperback, and Kindle.

I see that, for those new to poetry writing, he’s published The Poetry Home Repair Manual: Practical Advice for Beginning Poets. I must order a copy, since some of my verses could stand a bit of repair!

From the blurb:
“Much more than a guidebook to writing and revising poems, this manual has all the comforts and merits of a long and enlightening conversation with a wise and patient old friend—a friend who is willing to share everything he’s learned about the art he’s spent a lifetime learning to execute so well.”

The Earth Cracked

~ Christine Goodnough ~ 7 Comments

Today’s challenge at the Writer’s Digest site:
Write a sight poem. If you can see it, poem it. If you can’t see it, poem it. If you can see another interpretation of this prompt that is neither of these, then, please, poem it.

TREASURES

The earth cracked
eons ago a mighty split.
Oh to have seen
that power!
To have heard
that rock-rending cataclysm
leaving us such treasures!
Astounding canyons
standing guard over
an ever-flowing stream
of earth-blood,
a diamond-sparkling
river.

Image: Yinan Chen — Pixabay

Inside And Outside

~ Christine Goodnough ~ 2 Comments 
Afternoon snowstorm!
Wind swirls glistening
flurries across my pane.
Street grunge disappears;
trees and shrubs gather
white skirts around.
From warmth of my room
I watch and enjoy.
Nothing like the purity
of fresh snow!
Afternoon snowstorm!
Wind buffets the car,
drives blinding snow
across my windshield;
icy ruts build up.
“Road conditions poor.
Exercise extreme caution.”
No kidding! I pray hard
gripping the steering wheel,
fearful of a fender-bender
ender to this dreary drive.
Image: Anna — Pixabay

The Thistle of Favoritism

~ Christine Goodnough ~ 11 Comments

Today’s prompt at the Napowrimo site: Write a “The ___ of ___” verse

Begin by reading Bernadette Mayer’s poem “The Lobelias of Fear.” (Okay, I did, and it made very little sense to me, but you might want to check it out here. It may be clearer — or at least more poetic — to you.)

Now write a verse where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal, and the second blank is an abstract noun. The poem should contain at least one simile that plays on double meanings or otherwise doesn’t quite make “sense,” and describe things or beings from very different times or places as co-existing in the same space. So…

The Thistle of Favoritism

Resume in hand I came
eminently qualified —
decades of experience —
to take a seat beside another
hopeful applicant,
a young chick with her resume
one single sheet
held casually in her hand.

“Can’t have much
experience at this job,”
I mused, feeling smug I’ll admit.
Looking her over I decided,
the employer wouldn’t find
much to recommend her.
Granted, a curvy thing, and lovely
young hair, no wisps of grey. But
my skill and experience will count.

Curious, I opened conversation,
probed a bit. “So, how many years
have you done this type of work?”
She looked me up and down,
noted my thicker resume.
“Six months,” she replied.

I’m sure she noticed my smirk
sensed my “You haven’t a chance.”
Her nose tipped skyward.
“My sister encouraged me to apply.
She’s the manager’s wife.”

Relationships are thistles
apt to scratch your chances
if you’re not of the right blood.
My skill and experience
notwithstanding,
she got the job.