Welcome back, fellow poets, for another frabjous day of poetry!
Today, our featured participant is LYNDYH, where Day Five’s laughter prompt gave rise to a very moving
meditation.
Our daily resource is Poetry International, a wonderful source of contemporary poems in many different
languages. Besides hosting so many poems online, Poetry International also puts on an annual poetry
festival. This year’s will take place in Rotterdam in June.
Today’s (optional) prompt is again drawn from our archives, and builds off our daily resource. Take a look
around Poetry International for a poem in a language you don’t know. For example, I grabbed this one in
Finnish by Olli Heikkonen. Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words,
and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the
basis for a new poem.
I read the optional prompt repeatedly without a ray of comprehension. Then read
one or two submissions already published. And even then, I couldn’t understand
what was asked of me– this is much larger than me! I felt right away I was
witnessing something beautiful. And I remembered Mary Oliver…
At Blackwater Pond by Mary Oliver
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?
Pg. 226 Mary Oliver– New and Selected Poems; Volume One.
So here’s me, falling back on Day One’s Prompt I missed; jump-starting my engine
WOMAN AND HER WITS The night the moon was low and gray and the wind reserved and far away she thought she saw the curtains sway and a shape run in-- a stowaway I'm weary, weary, she demurred I wish; I would that I was dead with eyes half-shut, she lay in bed a wild wind blew, the curtains swayed the shadow of the poplar tree fell flat upon her touseled bed and in the morning, when she woke a full-grown sunbeam instead there lay she tiptoed out into the light convinced her love had found the way © selma
In literature, the poplar tree symbolizes woman’s loneliness and
her desire for her man to return.
Thanks so much for reading, and happy national poetry writing month.
- Day 22: NaPoWriMo 2024–I’m a Lover, Not A Fighter - April 22, 2024
- Day 21: NaPoWriMo 2024– Grays Before Blues Before Mauves - April 21, 2024
- Book Review on Goodreads for Poetry Treasures 4: In Touch With Nature - April 21, 2024
Beautiful, Selma! I am following the NaPoWriMo prompts, but some of them just take more time to process and create than I have in my schedule. So, when I recognize that, I fall back to creating a haiku, senryu, or tanka. I’m still writing every day, but I’m finding what can fit into my schedule. 🙂
Yvette M Calliero 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Do it your way. No need to stress. Blessing you, Yve.
This is beautiful. I enjoyed it, actually read it twice.
You did, twice? Such joy! thanks. Blessing you.
A beautiful poem Selma.
Gratitude, Sadje 🤜🏼 💗 🤛🏼
You’re welcome
So interesting words written in poem. Some words very sweet & silent…. It falls cold into my body, I hear deep them inside me. Beautiful thing that just happened.
“In literature, the popular tree symbolisze of womans loneliness her disire for her man to return “”! It’s written is wonderful , Selma!
Aww, thanks so much, Raj. So glad this touched you deep inside. I want to keep writing after this comment. Thanks for reading my words so closely. Xoxo
Yes, it’s right!
Thank you so much!
So beautiful, Selma. Sometimes the prompts don’t work. What is important is to write. ❤️
This one was hard. I wrote a new first draft anyway. And kinda like the result. Thanks for reading, Punam. Xoxo
Lovely poem, Selma. <3 I love the symbolism of the poplar tree and women waiting for men. So sad back in the old days when men sailed away for years. No phones, no internet, no trains, no airplanes!
Yeah. Hard to imagine what that must have been like.
That book cover revealed to me something i didn’t see coming and now we’re talking about olden times. 😊 I like these prompts but the one today was not easy for me. Thats why I digress and did Day One instead.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Cheryl. Blessing you.
Dear Selma,
There is so much to love on this page: the fact that despite the hurdles you faced to crack the prompt, you showered your readers with two beautiful poems and left a hint for more word smithery with Jabberwocky. Love the rhythm of your poem. It reminds me of The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.
Artí, you’re so sweet for encouraging me so. Thanks dearly. I bless you.
I love Mary Oliver and your full-grown sunbeam! Prompts are meant to give us a nudge, but if one nudge doesn’t work, another will.
Thanks Romana. I hope you’re all better now.
This is a beautiful poem!
Makes my heart sing thanks so much.
You’re welcome!
Wow, Selma, that was awesome. I think I know the ending but the ambiguity is astounding. Wonder way to make beautiful things just happen.
Aww. Thanks LuAnne. Thanks for these words XoXo
Light heals many things. (K)
Does. Yes. Xo
Ha! I read the ending as her walking towards the light… after death. Beautiful!
She saw a message in the light. And was encouraged. Xoxo
yes 🙂 Which light is left to the imagination of the reader… very well done!
I’m appeased by the idea that there is Light in the end. As there was in the beginning, right after Word came.
I have always felt, deep inside, that Light and Love were synonymous, as far as our life is concerned.
XOXO
💕 👏 💡 splendid way of looking at light and love. XoXo
I agree, Selma. Figuring out day six was like picking a gnat out of the air. This poem is excellent. 🙂
Day six was hard. Thanks for reading, Bill. XoXo
🙂
Beautiful piece, the flow and rhyme pairs so well with the dreamy imagery! 💗✍️
You’re sweet. Thanks for reading. Xo
🥰
Oh this i so lovely Selma and I love the metaphor at the end. 💞
Thanks, dear Cindy. You’re sweet as far as I go. Happy Easter 🐣 XoXo
You’re so very welcome Dear Selma!❣️
I loved the bones whispering: “oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?” and your intriguing, dreamy poem.
You’re sweet for saying, JoAnna. Thanks. Happy Happy Easter 🐣 xoxo