Day Eighteen on APRIL 18, 2024
Welcome back, all, for the 18th day of our 30-day challenge.
Today’s featured participant is Cutting Hail, who brings us a dreamy, gentle poem in response to
Day 17’s musical prompt.
Our resource for the day is the Best American Poetry blog, where you’ll find new and old poems,
close readings, and essays/reviews not just of poetry, but dance, art, and more.
And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which the
speaker expresses the desire to be someone or something else, and explains why. Two possible
models for you: Natasha Rao’s “In my next life let me be a tomato,” and Randall Jarrell’s
“The Woman at the Washington Zoo.”
Happy writing!
1.
In my next life let me be a dust moat
at rest, calm on library books, a
mote none sees till a sneeze or you
draw near–dust moats, all protons
neutrons, electrons like
you, like stars. Make me
empty like that
or make me
something
blue
2.
a
dust moat
yes, of dust,
–the final curse,
to teach you how to
breathe, send your heart rate up
and send me floating outside
where I can roam forever pleased
my existential mission attained
better than a human barely coping
3.
a
human
with no clout
to stop mad wars,
greed, violence, and
oppressions. If enough
dust motes assembled we could
flood all warheads and computers
restore life to what lies forgotten–
in my next life let me be a dust moat.
© selma
(warheads: heads and weaponry “of war”)
…Thanks for being here with me as I try to work on these first drafts this month.
Today, I’m house-sitting for friends; lugged all my “essentials”, have opened
all the windows and the pleasant scent of the renewing coconut & iris
candle (unlit) is making me feel all cozy inside…
wishing I had the answer to end all suffering AND WARS in the world.
Yeah: what if this was the answer
and instead of people waging wars we
were all busy dusting off good books to
read and exchange with each other.
Yeah, what if…
because peace begins with us, in our
hearts and heads. Just saying.
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I love the shape and form of this poem, Selma, and indeed the whole idea of it! I imagine life as a ‘dust mote at rest, calm on library books’, and it is attractive, especially to be like a star. I also like the thought of ‘dust motes assembled’ flooding warheads.
So pleased to hear your thoughts on this, dear Kim. This is a novel idea that came to me as I pondered on what to write… wish I could help change things for the better.
Dust motes on library books is what I’d like to be if I could achieve that one goal of stopping war HEADS of all kinds. Perhaps more people would pick up books then. Thanks, Kim.
You’re welcome, Selma.
Aww, a lovely idea, Selma. 🙂
I’m glad you like this idea. 💡 😚
Oh wow! A brilliant poem Selma.
Thank you, Sadje.
You’re very welcome
‘restore life to what lies forgotten’ – wonderful line
Beth, it pleases me you liked that line. xo
A timely piece, Selma. Thank you!
Thanks so sincerely, dear Gloria. We’re all tired of these wars and strife everywhere. Thanks for reading.
Yes! I vote for dust motes! I, too, chose to tackle dismay in the world — but with a birthday party. Wish I’d thought of a dust mote. Nice job.
We modern people with smart phones have become insensitive. Our minds are numbed. We need another pandemic, maybe. This craze must end… Glad you vote for dust motes. xoxo Thanks. I’ll hurry over to check out your birthday party. I know I will love it as always. Bless you. Thanks for coming to visit me. xo
Selma, this is wonderful! Let all dust motes unite and change the world for better.❤️
Yeah. Right? Let the motes infiltrate those hard-headed war-heads through their nostrils and have them sneeze all that hot air out of their system. And then may the motes squeeze into all their ammunitions of destruction and stuck them up so no one can use.
Ahh… peace.
Thanks Punam dear. Xoxo 💭
Absolutely, Selma! My pleasure. 😊
Brilliance at it’s best, Selma! To dust motes and your inspiration💕
I might not be able to lift a leg high or hold it up the right way at yoga but I can go places in my mind.
The way I see this working: Let the motes infiltrate those hard-headed war-headed humans through their nostrils to have them go on a sneezing rampage—sneeze all that hot air out of their system. And then may the motes squeeze into all their ammunitions of destruction and stuck them up so no one can use. Ahh… peace.
That’s my hopeful strategy:: so I want to be a dust mote (you dig, Cindy?)
Thanks for the comment.
Dust looks so beautiful floating in the light. Much better to contemplate than the state of the world. (K)
Agreed. So agree. Thanks K.
Aw, i love how this sounds and feels so calm Selma. It gave me a very soothing vibe. And the form its brilliant.
You’re sweet for complimenting me, dear Mich. bless you. 😚
❤️❤️❤️
I too want to be a dust mote.
Hehe. Let’s be motes 😁
Hi Selma, I really find this poignant and sad. It’s so awful that individuals are so powerless. Hugs
Sad. Indeed. Thanks, Robbie.
Not a dust moat! LOL