Today’s prompt was to find a poem in a language you don’t know. I used the same one as the prompt, because, what the hey; a Finnish poem by Olli Heikkonen. Think 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. The end result doesn’t yet make a 100% sense, but it’s fascinating how easy it was to find images that slotted into my theme.
Finnish Original
Kumarra pihla jaa. Sen alle kasvot ylöspäin veljesi on haudattu. Maan povessa luut mustuvat, yrtit versovat nikamiin. Kumarra pihlajaa, sen ihonkaltaista kuorta, oksan hankaan ripustettua helminauhaa. Kumarra latvan liekkiä. Juuret lävistävät veljesi rinnan. Juuret lävistävät veljesi otsan. Pihlaja on ääniä täynnä, jotka keväällä puhkeavat lehdiksi.
“Literal” Transmogrification into English
Come here phial jar. Sense all cease wot loss of pain we shall see on hide at you. Man possess lute must you wait, your heart verse of what nick mine. Come here phial jar, then I hone kill taster aorta, oxen hanker Riposte statue helm in a you are. Come here little one like care. Enduring love is the what we shall see running. Enduring love is the what we all jetson. phial jar on any tiny, jot car coverall per karat lee discus. Dixie
Extract from Finnish Jar
Come near, fill my jar. Sense my loss, ceaseless pain. We shall see what hides you. As man possesses lute So must you wait, your heart a verse that nicks mine.
Read a (mostly mediocre) haiku collection today. Since I really enjoyed the reverse poem creation from a couple of days ago, I applied that technique on several haiku in the collection that kind of felt resonant to my themes. I wasn’t precious about the supposed 5-7-5 structure (some of my regular haiku writing friends say if you’re counting syllables you’re not writing haiku) … all I was interested in was generating content not “pure haiku”.I’ve posted 2 of the 4 verses.
*****
beneath the white mist an endless sigh of worms thunder made by earth.
arrowheads of wind bounce wildly between caverns rumble away to night.
Day 5 – TIL about pluralising streets
Bottom-of-the-Sack St
the plural of cul-de-sac is culs-de-sac
a bit out of whack & perhaps off track
none the less that (i thought)
[prematurely perhaps] ended that
but in the spirit of adequate research i undertook a swift google search
& let me say my mind did lurch when i promptly also learnt
the plural of cul-de-sac is also cul-de-sacs
mind blown to the max so what’s lies & what facts?
i’m stressed & cannot relax till i know the correct syntax
Day 4’s challenge was to write a Triolet: rhyme scheme ABaAabAB (where capital letters represent lines repeated verbatim). Such formal structure poetry is always a challenge until you find the right line to serve as the spine. I’m not sure I quite have yet, but it’s a darn sight better than the original version.
*****
Excerpt from Cave at Sunset
From dark within the cave breathes earth And the wild fireflies all fail to shine Leaving every heart bereft of mirth
Funfact Day 4 – a baby porcupine poem
baby porcupines are called quite rightly & quite cutely porcupettes/
{& nothing more of this poem was written as the poet spent the reminder of his time absolutely & overwhelmingly smitten watching videos & googling porcupics online}
One of the NaPoWriMo sites Day 3 prompts was to take a short poem and rewrite it in opposites. Which I did. Then extended it a bit to make it work better for my purposes.
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Excerpt from dirge
must i always & ever slouch with shuffle-steps & off-key heart back into the never-quite night
it matters not how ardently i avouch how much i love the light the rising path i can never again start
Poetic Factoid #03 — scary sea dogs
as a species our fear of sharks biting us from below as we lounge in their swim rooms is nearly universal
despite this our galeophobia is irrational
given it’s 10 times more probable for a New Yorker to be bitten by another person than anyone in the world by a shark
My housemate & I attended Vintage Vibes tonight. It was a somewhat serendipitous choice because we got to see the legend up close & steaming … & was relevant to songs of under earth. Despite the chilly air, Dave Le’aupepe was still able to generate some much needed mythic heat.
Funfact Day 2 – is based on the idea that Yoda was partly modelled on a photo of Albert Einstein. My Poetic Factoid revolves round the device of me Yodafiying three Einstein quotes.
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Excerpt from O onstage in 2023
he is sex : uncurling : on stage : foreplaying : with all of us : on & off the beat : always chanting about : always ranting about : love
Poetic Factoid #02 — Yoda Einstein
to the person who has the answers, don’t listen; who has the questions, to that person, listen
slowed down waves of sound & light we are a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos
souls dressed up in garments biochemical & sacred, we are instruments through which our souls their music play, our bodies are
April is upon me more suddenly than I’d liked & I am throughly unprepared for Na/GloPoWriMo 2023. I’m my least motivated by the thought of writing a poem a day for a month I’ve perhaps ever been, yet I’ve never once seriously considered just not doing it. So the usual things apply. I’ll endeavour to read a volume of poetry every day & write a poem referencing / inspired by some element of the work read. I’ll also check out the various prompts sites to see if I can incorporate/be inspired by them. I find these artificial constraints often produce great results & poems that wouldn’t have germinated otherwise.
I’ll also continuing my themes-based approach to Na/GloPoWriMo, which has worked incredibly well over previous seasons, I’ve decided to work on a long-daydreamed, occasionally-added-to collection/chapbook of poems with the title songs from under earth. So that’s what I’ll be doing as my primary writing task each day.
However, as I will be looking to publish these poems/said collection at some point, I won’t be posting the entirety of each poem on my blog, but a [hopefully] tantalising snippet (many journals/etc refuse to accept poems even if they’ve just been on personal Facebook pages or blogs with only 100 subscribers). As a kind of compensation (& almost respite from the darker thematic nature of sfue) I’ll also be doing a daily (what I’m currently calling poetic factoids at least until a better title presents itself) … which in itself was a prompt from NaPoWriMo.net … that is to say a poem that plays with a fun fact.
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “fun fact.” Your fact could actually be fun – or the whole point could be that it’s not fun. Maybe you have a favorite wacky fact already, but if not, Mental Floss’s “Amazing Fact Generator” is here to help!
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Excerpt from detritus — my home wards always wears away
every day the forest’s a little thinner
& mushrooms munch the colours of our year
Poetic Factoid #01 — guzzlers
archaeologists claim we were imbibing beer before the wheel’s invention
alcoholics argue this implies drinking & driving is an evolutionary imper-aperitif
As stated in my introductory posts about the 2022 24 Hour Poetry Marathon June 25-26 I won’t be posting all of every poem on my website. I’ll post the best few lines or perhaps, 2 to 3 lines that make the most sense out of context. Consider them: pseudohaiku.
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(Hour 01) 10.30-11.30pm. IMAGE PROMPT: spiky sculpture in snow
& we’re away. One down (though technically two). The Marathon now offers two official prompts every hour, one text-based & one visual. Being a sucker for punishment & it being early days, this hour (& perhaps this hour only) I’ve written one for each. The visual one was as the title of this post suggests. Here’s the snippet.
nuerons
being close to a mystery : & not knowing is agony : even if that knowledge : has the express purpose : of obliterating : us
*****
(Hour 02) 11.30-12.30am. VISUAL PROMPT, Man looking round white edge
Managed two again this hour. Again choosing the visual prompt largely because it’s from the other characters POV & I want to mix it up.
L-plate hitch-hiker
not sure what Ryan thinks he’ll do now he’s clinging — to the edge of one of those things —
*****
(Hour 03) 12.30-01.30am. VISUAL PROMPT, red tree in pink field
The poems keep coming, but I’m already feeling tired. This is too early for this to be happening.
Agent Orange
all this red dust in the sky : gets in your eyes : doesn’t irritate or itch : but plays tricks : on what you know is there: but feels like it isn’t : or can’t be
*****
(Hour 04) 01.30-02.30am. BOTH PROMPTS combined: 100 years from now & old piano in the forest
A bit cheeky but I’ve combined both prompts in this one poem. I’m okay with it, cos it gives me a longer break & the two prompts do work together well. Having said that, I know I haven’t quite set the poem 100 years from now, only in Stella’s imagination, but the intention is there.
old pianos
i came across an old piano in the forest flaking veneer like the shoulders of a sunburnt child
*****
(Hour 05) 02.30-03.30am. TEXT PROMPT: write a poem using 5 of the 10 words
I’m glad my story has hallucinogenic drugs in it. Means I can whip off a quick poem, claim the character ingested Dust again & go rest. NB I used all 10 words
halluc:nogen
so i half-dream : of sunflowers : knitting cheddar : cheese satchels : for their favourite gardeners : to keep seeds in
*****
(Hour 06) 03.30-04.30am. TEXT PROMPT, letter from someone no longer in your life
Bit uninspired by the photo, & I struggled to adapt the text prompt to the verse novel … but I kind of have by using personal stories & pretending they happened to Ryan (there’s always a letter poem in these kind of things NaPoWriMo & Marathon & I’m bit over them TBH).
absences
spending endless hours trying to teach “I love you” in Russian: Ya lyublyu tebya without success if only I’d tried Yellow blue tibia I might’ve succeeded
*****
(Hour 07) 04.30-05.30am. VISUAL PROMPT, old couple on bench in silhouette
5am here and very tired. This needs a lot of post-marathon tweaking.
Lookout
& for the first time — I realise — how quiet No insects, very few almost hesitant birdcalls (no song) & no sign of movement on any roads
*****
(Hour 08) 05.30-06.30am. VISUAL PROMPT: Mancala game
wrote poem. needed nap. nap raged long
stones
in tonight’s house : the boy finds : a Mancala set : the rules : are so simple : as I watch : the boy & girl : play : she is rapidly : collecting : all the stones
i try not : to see : the symbolism
*****
(Hour 09) 06.30-07.30am. TEXT PROMPT: kitchen cupboard memory
Take elements of truth. Tweak. Create new truth.
tinned soup
tonight straight from the tin cold & without buttered toast
— i’m struggling to recall its appeal
*****
(Hour 10) 07.30-08.30am. VISUAL PROMPT: looking up at a couple touching foreheads from below
After initially being singularly stonkered & utterly unimpressed by both prompts, this cute, perhaps clever, & definitely quirky tale presents another side to Ryan’s character … along with providing some much needed humour
chins +
so while we are : essentially : all looking skywards : anxious of AI pods : & drones : & god knows what : other death-dealing : monstrosities : he’s doing that too : plus with chins : & pimples : & boofheads : & meaningless arguments : about Disney : blocking much of the view
*****
(Hour 11) 08.30-09.30am. TEXT PROMPT: laughter poem without using laugh words
It’s “funny” how a prompt which initially made me groan, can produce a poem (& a part of the narrative) I would never have conceived of without the initial impetus. So pleased with how things are tracking.
not funny
all five of us holding it in as best we can
they’re so close we hear their near silent hum
*****
(Hour 12) 09.30-10.30am. BOTH PROMPTS: a gathering + photo of several drums
This is a bit too long & a bit too narrativey, but given I didn’t quite know where it was going I’m glad it got where it did in the timeframe I had. As they say in the film biz: I’ll fix it in post hahaha.
drumming circle
soon we had : a wild rhythm : going : including wild roars : hollers : screams : & yelps : as well as a canine chorus : from Milky : delighted he could join in : the chaos
*****
(Hour 13) 10.30-11.30am. TEXT PROMPT: something bad that went right
A short poem’s a good poem, I always say. Especially if it says all it needs to say & fulfils the prompt.
TEOTWAWKI
need to find a way to say that even though it took the world almost (& maybe still) ending
*****
(Hour 14) 11.30am-12.30pm. 1.5 PROMPTS: photo of mushrooms by boots + kinda a folk tale with a twist
No setup in this poem (lack of time) but it might actually work depending on the poems around it.
psilocybin
chanterelles
time is more than standing still it’s lying on its back staring at the stars
*****
(Hour 15) 12.30pm-13.30pm. BOTH PROMPTS: lust + delicate leaves
Sometimes everything falls into place with such simplicity: the prompts both word & visual; the idea, the image, the moment in the narrative, the structure, the actual words themselves — that’s when writing truly is …
bliss
& i feel as see-through & light
as the skeletal filaments of a leaf left too long on the tree
*****
(Hour 16) 12.30pm-13.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: last line question, title the answer
Two pretty uninspiring prompts this & photo of bland sunset mean I’ve taken the last hour easy to recharge for the final run home.
Nobody knows
How the bloody hell did they just obliterate 7 billion people & countless billion animals, birds, insects in a millisecond?
*****
(Hour 17) 14.30pm-15.30pm. PROMPT: mythical monster & silhouetted image 3 figures against blue slit
This one remains a WIP. Too much research too many unknowns, not enough about that section of narrative is locked in. Something to work on …
dam & blast
ahead : a narrow strait : dripping water : darkness : pale blue light : beyond : as if under neath : an endless ocean : forcing down : desiring only : to drown : anyone near : the wall whispers : of : all that water behind
*****
(Hour 18) 15.30pm-16.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: moment of joy
A nice little poem about one character’s moment of joy, made more interesting as seen through another’s eyes.
glad day
still : watching Stella : arms to the sun : dancing : is a breath stopping : sight : that bubbles : laughter : in even my : grumpy breast
*****
(Hour 19) 16.30pm-17.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: poem for a city, real or imagined
Sometimes prompts are just perfectly fitted for poems in your head. Yesterday while preparing & planning & re-reading current poems to find where there’s gaps that need filling, an arrival into the big smoke was one of those on the agenda. So tick.
just do it
most disturbing are the piles of clothing jeans & shirts & dresses blown into doorways handbags & backpacks dumped on footpaths
*****
(Hour 20) 17.30pm-18.30pm. VISUAL PROMPT: a mattress bed in a flower bed
I’ve said nothing which is enough said.
mattress bed in a flower bed
in my dream : i dream : of trying to sleep : lying on this : oddly placed : day lounge : but i can’t : knowing as i do : that 7 & 1/2 : earth minutes ago : the sun somehow : blinked entirely : out of existence : as if an enormous : intergalactic child : picked it up : like a marble : & popped it in : her pocket : before jumping on Einstein’s : beam of light : & riding away : stopping all the clocks : behind her
*****
(Hour 21) 18.30pm-19.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: less than 50 words: must contain umbrella or almond
No more than 50 words. Perfect timing. (Though I did add a little game of my own into the mix)
umbrella?
no way not for me you don’t get it i don’t need an umbrella want blessed rainfall on my skin always keeping me clean, safe from harm away from whatever’s in that alien Agent Orange eviscerating everything good real & warm into soulless dust
*****
(Hour 22) 19.30pm-20.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: tenderness Another synergy moment. I need this moment. Tenderness was the perfect framing moment.
tenderness
I just do. Trust me. I know without knowing How I gotta approach them like they’re Skittish colts. Cos they really are.
*****
(Hour 23) 20.30pm-21.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: title of a book(s)
This penultimate poem is not related to the verse novel. It was originally going to be, but I got carried away playing games. 🤣
42 Bookers 2015-21
it might only be a little life but it is my life & i am unwilling to exit west to lose everything under the overstory. i am a satin island in a sea of fishermen born in the year of the runaways next to a spool of blue thread. sucked hot milk from the autumn milkman am all that man is. am girl, woman, other. do not say we have nothing. for we are his bloody project a history of wolves. and i would rather spend 10 minutes 38 seconds in this strange world in this mournable body in the new wilderness of a real life than be burnt sugar for the shadow king & that is the promise. for no one is talking about this bewilderment and the fortune men lose in the sellout to a passage north to the great circle of ducks, newburyport. the long take of the testaments reminds us 4321 of lincoln in the bardo & a brief history of seven killings: eileen, elmet, shuggie bain, washington black, quichotte as well as an orchestra of minorities in the mars room.
*****
(Hour 24) 21.30pm-22.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: poem that starts & end with same word (5 options given or choose your own)
Also not from the YA novel. Just want it all to stop hahahahahaha.
Okay since I posted this morning’s very early/late update (depending on your perspective), I have been quietly blown away. Get this.
It turns out I did the exact same task in 2020! And I had completely forgotten it. 24 poems all on the same theme. All part of the verse novel. All unread for the past two years. Granted, there were 1 or 2 other minor distractions going on during that mildly challenging year — BUT TO FORGET EVERY POEM. RIDICULOUS!!
*BTW I just read them all & am really really pleased with them. All are written in response to the official Marathon prompt given every hour. Which possibly makes them a little quirkier than the 40 odd poems written over the preceding half dozen years … but which I think all are richer for it. I’m actually pretty pleased by the whole affair … because it means 1) I already have 24 more poems in the sequence than I thought I did & 2) the process clearly works. Bring it on.
This time tomorrow I’ll be 3 hours into my 6th 24 Hour Poetry Marathon (it begins 9am ET in the USA & about 500 people from all over the world participate).
A Poetry Marathon is exactly what it says on the box. Once an hour for 24 hours I’ll be attempting to churn out a poem (possibly using assigned prompts; maybe just using my own ideas) while attempting to stay focused, stay awake, stay sane, & occasionally, if a poem is completed relatively swiftly, grab a few moments kip here & there…
My goal is to finish (or at least progress) a Young Adult verse novel I’ve been playing with on & off for too many years. About 40 poems in the sequence have been created so far. There are multiple gaps in the narrative. My goal is to plug some of those gaps and hopefully incite a sense of momentum & motivation to spur me on to completing a first draft of a complete manuscript.
In previous years I’ve posted my 24 hour poems on this page (one of the requirements of the competition is a poem must be published every hour; ie you can’t write 4 in an hour, then sod off for 3 hours to play hockey). This year I won’t be publishing them here. This is because one day I would like said verse novel to be published. Having a large swathe of poems already online; albeit on a relatively innocuous little poetry page; could potentially be detrimental to said publication’s chances. So no go. I’ll still be posting on the group’s blog — but given that is closed to the public it doesn’t have the same issues.
That said, I still intend to post hourly snippets of poems, just 2-4 lines perhaps, the best bits as it were, taste tests, teasers, treats from each new poem. But in the interest of sanity, I intend to simplify things & post every teaser on one page, simply updating the same page every hour. Who knows, they might form their own meta-poem by the end of the day. (Or they might be a dog’s breakfast. We don’t yet know. But we will be 10pm Sunday. So hope you pop back occasionally & check it out.)
Thank god this month is over. Today was another exhausting (yet rewarding) experience. Another short film made. Well — shot, at least; editing still to come.
I’ve been planning this poem for a couple of weeks now, so it was quick & easy to record as variations of it have been roiling though my mind ever since I conceived of it as a fairly neat way to wrap up & round out this month.
gareth roi poet boi 