on APRIL 3, 2024
Hello, all! Let’s hope poetry helps us get over the “hump” of this Wednesday.
Today, our featured participant is Joy Wright, who brings us a wistful poem in response to yesterday’s
platonic love poem prompt.
Our resource for the day is the twitter account Peege, where you’ll find lots of poetry, but also cool art
and photos.
Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day – optional, as always. Today, we’d like to challenge
you to write a surreal prose poem. For inspiration, check out Franz Kafka’s collection of short parables
(my favorite is “The Green Dragon”).
Happy writing!
The month Roberta came to visit, had to have been the hottest in the history of
my country. I don’t remember much of that time, nor the year, but I remember
us lounging under the mango tree, swatting at flies that swarmed ’round rotten
mangoes strewn aground. And then Roberta, carrying a huge teddy bear like a
baby in her arms, approached us. Not until she set the bear down did we realize
it was human—a half-asleep Garp, clutching a copy of his famous mother’s
manifesto asked in a baritone voice for water. Water!
Everyone, who moments before had been too sluggish to move, scrambled to
get Garp water. I, feeling sorry for Garp, wrestled him out of that ridiculous
bear suit and swiped the perverted grin from his sweaty red face.
~ The World According To Garp.
© selma
This is my fourth try at National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), and this time
around I’ll try not to spend so much time ‘perfecting’ a task that needs more time
to reach a satisfactory closure. I’m a slow poke after all…
You, my friends, are the first to see me in this vulnerable state. If you think of a
better word to fit in the first draft presented here, please don’t hold back–let me
know. I will be forever grateful. Thanks for being here with me as I try to work on
these poems on my phone–outdoors, weather permitting–and please excuse the
formatting. FYI, the titles of each day come from the quotes on the daily banners.
Thanks for reading my Day 3: a surreal prose poem.
Inspired by The Tiger in Franz Kafka’s Collection which took me back
to when I read John Irving’s book, The World According to Garp.
© selma
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This is a fun read Selma❤️
Mich, beautiful Mich. when you were reading the classics I was reading hilarity like John Irving’s T.S. Garp.
Thanks for seeing the fun in this. Bless you. Be well.
Well done Selma. I can not find anything to add to your work. Kudos to writing on a cellphone!!
And, I agree. You are right I think that taking time to perfect work for these daily challenges is a great feat.
You’re sweet, Suzette. When you find something please let me know.
I’ll go raw this time with my first draft thus writing outdoors—challenging myself to improvise as sometimes the phone takes too long to load information.
But I’m also looking for outdoors distraction. I have heavy shoulders from a recent loss of a friend and need the outdoors to enter me for calm.
Thanks for reading. Bless you.
The outdoors is a nurturing place, and I agree it fills the heart with much peace.. Grace be with you Selma..
Loved it, Selma.
Happy you do, Sonia. Happy moving. And remember that I told you about the wine opener. 😂
❤️❤️
Bless you, Kajal. Xo
“I, feeling sorry for Garp, wrestled him out of that ridiculous
bear suit and swiped the perverted grin from his sweaty red face.” 😄
This last line really cracked me up, Selma. Great write!
Hi Anonymous. Thanks for the comment. Pleases me enormously to know you liked that. Cracked me up writing it too. Thanks.
(Tell me who you are please)
🙏 🙇🏽♀️
It has the proper tone of absurdity Selma. (K)
Absurd is the right word. Yes. Thanks so much K. Blessings.
This one kept my attention till the end, Selma! Can babies be perverted? The mother…!
Oh my sweet friend, you pose the perfect question. Thank you. The answer to that one is No!
Roberta’s carrying Garp “like a baby”—Roberta is a strong man-turned woman—But Garp is NOT a baby.
When Garp was a baby THAT BOOK did not exist. His feminist mother was just a nurse with big ideas. By having T.S Garp clutching on to that book I hoped to show that he was fully grown.
The Novel is hilarity!! I read it in 1985 or thereabouts.
Reading the Tiger in the list of parables somehow reminded me of that John Irving book. I never would have thought of writing about Garp if it hadn’t been for Maureen Thorson. Wow!