I attended a poetry workshop today. Although I haven't written much poetry, we were required to write one in class. The first poem here was one I wrote today during the workshop. We were told to conjure up one of our first memories. The other poems are inspired by the professor's work. He had mentioned that he used to pick a unique observation and write a very short prose poem about it. I loved his poems and entertained the idea myself. The style of poetry we discussed in the workshop dealt directly with a lack of symbolism. All the poets and poems we discussed were modern examples - no hidden meaninigs, and no syllable/rhyming/rhythm restrictions. There was also a push toward longer lines.



Three Bags Full

I'm so excited, I'm almost ready to jump out of my fleece! I don't know who to tell first!
I'm so excited, I'm almost ready to jump out of my fleece! I don't know who to tell first!
I'm so excited, I'm almost ready to jump out of my fleece! I don't know who to tell first!

"Say it loud and clear" mother said
"The last row needs to hear"

I looked at her through the face-hole of a hot and scratchy black sheep costume
Complete with pink satin bow

Curtain time

Standing on a homemade stage that creaked under their nervous pacing
Ladybugs, fireflies
One black sheep

Industrial church lights flickered off
"Stage lights" flickered on

We stood
Not so still
Children muttered
Forgotten lines
Some cried

Rows of proud faces
Leaning in to hear the products of their coaching

My turn

Mother's voice came back to me
The last row needs to hear
Silence drowned the murmors of my fellow young thespians
My tongue drank all my spit
The moment before I spoke
Seemed a day

The last row needs to hear

"I'M SO EXCITED! I'M ALMOST READY TO JUMP OUT OF MY FLEECE! I DON'T KNOW WHO TO TELL FIRST!"
The last words lost to resounding laughter
I was embarrassed
I was proud


Tots

I picked up strawberry instead of regular cream cheese
In quoting Napoleon Dynamite I forgot a fork for my tots
Over toast I realized I'd left my portfolio upstairs
Rachel said I needed to pray to the breakfast Gods


The Illness

Keep away the illness
Stop the moving cars
Freeze the way it is
Allow present trajectory
The end can't be creeping
I don't want to be
Another tragic character


The Grant

He's requesting a grant
From a woman who says "Li-barry"
To form evil empires
He says
We need more supervillains.

That's it for now, folks. PLEASE for the love of your diety of choice, LEAVE FEEDBACK. This is why I have this blog. Do not be afraid to criticize and help me be a better writer. I will be posting more within my preferred genres soon.