In the introduction to the 2021 April Challenge, I showed you how I wrote a prose poem modeled after Nicolle Stellon O'Donnell.
A prose poem is written in paragraph form (like prose) but contains rich images and language (like poetry).
Give it a try!
O'Donnell's poem focused on a memory from grade school, when she and her friends conducted weddings during recess on the playground. Here it is:
I "jumped off" O'Donnell's poem by thinking of my own memory from grade school, when my friend and I were scolded for using sign language to communicate across the classroom. Here it is:
My invitation to you is to "jump off" O'Donnell's or my poem. That is, use it as a springboard to write your own poem. You might want to think of a memory from grade school, or from recess. Or the violets mentioned in O'Donnell's poem might spur you to write about a walk in the woods.
Now set a timer for 10 minutes. Sink into your poet mode. Write.
After 10 minutes, post what you've written--or if you're really caught up in it, give yourself another 10!
The point, if writing a poem a day, is to TRY, ACCEPT, SHARE, and RESPOND. Not everything you write will be your favorite, but by the end of the month, I can guarantee you'll have some lines you like very much!
Happy writing!
AB
When I fall asleep I slip into a world of wonder. Where my imagination can run free and have no worries at all. No problems, no wars, no anger. Just me and my dreams, that which gives me happiness. But when I wake up I'm back in the cold reality of the world. And all my problems come back to me again and I'm hit with that cold realization. Until I go back to sleep again can I access that happiness and wonder of my dream world.
ReplyDeleteI like the alliteration of "world of wonder" and the use of temperature (cold) to describe the real world.
DeleteSnow fell the night before and the ground grew bright and tall. Such a cold recess but the fun was never halted. It wasn't until after I threw it I realized if was full of ice. I did not expect the snowball to be full of ice, nor did I expect to be D1 quarterback when throwing it. As it soared through the brisk winter air it took on a backspin as a tossed ball does. It was supposed to be a friendly throw that hit her in the chest. But oh no, straight to the face it went. Solid ice and all. The crying starts, and there I go running before I get in trouble.
ReplyDeleteOh what a memory! I love the way you hint at what's to come "It wasn't until after..." and the humor of "nor did I expect to be D1 quarterback"! This was delightful!
DeleteRecess. It was the time to go to war. You got the ball and formed a single file line. The teams were picked, and we chose who got the ball first. You were told no tackling, no playing too rough. But nobody listened. Up to 20 little kids wearing bright colored clothes, wearing the dirt covered shoes. They would all run back force not think of anything but that very moment. Because at that very time they could compete with the pros. In their minds they were the pros. Every step, every throw, every catch, you could see the desire. Burning like an everlasting blaze. Burning with the passion they shared with the game. Everyday that fire was put out, and that ball was taken away. Only to be lit again the next day.
ReplyDeleteI love how you show that kids BELIEVE they are in the pros! The use of fire (metaphor) extinguished and re-lit worked well for me.
Delete3rd Grade recesses were always exciting with new games, challenges, and long conversations each day. But this day was different. My friends and I came across a small bird egg, laying on the matted down grass. "Lets save it" we all said. We reached for the egg to return it to its bird home, to find that the bottom was broken open, with an underdeveloped baby bird inside. So we did the only thing us 3rd graders knew what to do. We planned a funeral and prepared our next recess. "Dress in all black tomorrow, and make speeches too!" So we did. That next day we circled around the tree, and read our 10 second speeches. All for this baby bird we never knew. 3rd grade was an interesting year. RIP baby bird
ReplyDeleteOh my word! This is a combination of heartbreaking and hilarious! "Dress in all black tomorrow, and make speeches too!" was a wonderful line! Wonderful capturing of a memory!
DeleteDark tendrils of void grasp aimlessly around a dark canvass which once harbored many memories. Lost, they are, to the tides of time and fatigue. Even though it had hardly been a handful of centuries. Eroded league by league.
ReplyDeleteStill, as I gaze around the abyssal wasteland, I have yet to set my sights on something other than a monster. But fragments scattered around the deserted land provide some hope into piecing together a past. The need to gather the shards into a cluster. Eternally searching for the last.
Just to unlock the secret to a past which no longer exists.
Ariel, I'm pretty sure I would have recognized this as your writing even if your name hadn't showed up! My favorite words; harbored, fragments, shards.
Delete
ReplyDeleteHappy shrieks come from inside the house. A child, putting on it’s tiny black shoes and a matching jacket. It runs out to the swing set, all shiny and new, even though it's been there for years. The child pumps its legs higher and higher, feeling like a bird in the wind.
Until, the chains break, sending the child sailing out into the green grass. The child lands on their knees and hands, scraping them up. It cries for help, but no help comes. Instead, a snake slithers up to them, You’re too old to be crying, grow up it hisses. The child lies there, crying for help as the snake continues to hiss at it. Why can’t you show some strength? Why can’t you help others instead of yourself for once? You are so selfish, think of others instead of yourself!
The child lies there, in what you used to be green grass, but is now brown, prickly stalks. Small black spiders crawl all over the child’s body. The child’s body is all grown up now, adapted due to others wishes. But in its mind, it's still a child. It can’t handle the stress and the bullying from others. So the child does the one thing it can think to do
Everything goes silent. No more laughter, no more cries, no more hissing. All that's left is the flower petals in the wind, the setting sun, and lifeless eyes, staring at the very place where they needed help. At the very place, where no one offered it
In today’s day and age, we are forcing kids to grow up too soon. Give them the chance to live before it's all over. If they no longer feel wanted, your kid will meet their end sooner rather than later.
Oh, Addie! This was a powerful mix of reality and surrealism. The spiders and snakes, the changing form of the grass...vivid and imagistic. I think Ariel will really appreciate this piece of writing!
DeleteElementary school was an interesting time. The most random things would happen, yet we would never complain. No stress, just four care free kids who got the chance to miss out on school. Of course we all said yes, and away we went. To a church, to help younger kids with their hearing tests. However, we acted as if to be younger than the kids we were to be helping. Running, laughing, and drinking what felt like hundreds of juice boxes. It was such an experience, one none of us will ever forget.
ReplyDeleteYour poem captures the small moment(s) that stick in the mind. You express understanding of that age.
DeleteI don't mean to flex but I got to sit in the front seat of Mr.Northwicks car that day. A memory never forgotten.
DeleteThat was a fun day. We got to eat snacks and drink juices boxes. Those little kids where fun to hang around too.
DeleteI loved that day!! It was so fun
DeleteCrying in class:
ReplyDeleteFighting in the period before with a friend you once had. This friendship is no more after the words that were said. Both injured by ignorant comments that were made. Holding back tears until the bell rang so you can run to your next class to let it all out. As you sob quietly you try and pay attention to the words being said but all you can think of is the words of the period before.
Oh Mary, this expresses such strong emotion. I could feel the holding back, then letting go.
ReplyDeleteSchool is a simple thing really you wake up, get ready and walk from class to class it repeats itself every day. Do we get bored maybe but it is a necessity in life to learn the things we do not yet know. We see our friends giggle in class and mess around but do not dare giggle when the class starts. At half past three we leave. The building shut off and take a break from the day.
ReplyDeleteBrock, you have a good start here. The giggling is a detail we can hear. What does "messing around" look like?
Delete