In six days I will embark once again (for the fifth year in a row!) on the endeavor to write a poem a day each day for the entire month of April. Won’t you join me? I will post every single one of these things, the good, the bad, and the ugly, right here upContinue reading “Gearing Up for NaPoWriMo 2018”
Category Archives: Poetry
#285: A Poem Against Nothing
During meditation practice today I wrote some words and phrases on two notecards in response to the following three meditative prompts: Nothing, Form, and Intention. As a writer, I live in the world of specificity, concrete detail, or in ideas expressed explicitly and with clarity. Sometimes I struggle with some of the more esoteric aspectsContinue reading “#285: A Poem Against Nothing”
#284: The American English Teacher Tries Not to Be Afraid While Doing His Job
Two nights ago I woke up at 3 a.m. and could not go back to sleep. It was not a nightmare that woke me. Just some disturbance in the force that momentarily stirred me from slumber. Immediately upon opening my eyes, though, a waking nightmare: I was thinking about those kids in Florida, and I wasContinue reading “#284: The American English Teacher Tries Not to Be Afraid While Doing His Job”
#283: I Dream of a Song
It was crazy. I dreamed I had written a song fully formed and recorded about my mom and then my dead friend called me on the phone and wondered about copyright permissions because I think she wanted to use it for some other purpose. I wish I could remember the song, the lyrics, the tune,Continue reading “#283: I Dream of a Song”
#282: On the Last Day of National Poetry Writing Month, The Poet Speaks of Things that Happen Over and Over Again
Days go by, and they keep going by constantly pulling you into the future. –Laurie Anderson. For starters, days go by one right after another, but today, during meditation, I held my father’s hand one last time before they wheeled him into surgery on the eve of his last day on the planet 7Continue reading “#282: On the Last Day of National Poetry Writing Month, The Poet Speaks of Things that Happen Over and Over Again”
#281: Gin
Today, from napowrimo, the suggested prompt is to take a favorite poem and find a very specific, concrete noun in it. After choosing the word, put the original poem away and spend five minutes free-writing associations – other nouns, adjectives, etc. Then use the original word and the results of the free-writing as the building blocks for a new poem. PerhapsContinue reading “#281: Gin”
#280: A Mostly Unrhymed Food Dipodic at the Close of Teacher Appreciation Week
This week for teacher appreciation, they bring us junk to eat, like chips, and candy, bread, pancakes, syrup, none of which I can eat, sadly. Yesterday, kids wheeled in wagons full of goodies into classrooms from which I could only choose bottled water. Somehow, this week I don’t quite feel the love; appreciation is notContinue reading “#280: A Mostly Unrhymed Food Dipodic at the Close of Teacher Appreciation Week”
#279: The English Teacher Reveals the Writing Prompt for the Day
The English teacher reveals the writing prompt for the day and tells his students to start writing and one student doesn’t have his notebook and while it’s supposed to be quiet another kid tells the kid without a notebook that he saw him leave it inside the lunchroom and the notebookless kid doesn’t believe him andContinue reading “#279: The English Teacher Reveals the Writing Prompt for the Day”
#278: When I Was Away, Before I Was Born, I Have Never Been
I attended a writing workshop last weekend taught by the Oregon Poet Laureate Emeritus Paulann Petersen where I was asked to participate in a generative process very much unlike the process I am used to in my own creative work. It was a very particular kind of brainstorm activity she called “priming.” Now, as aContinue reading “#278: When I Was Away, Before I Was Born, I Have Never Been”
#277: The Topography of Our Intimate Being
The Topography of Our Intimate Being is a box or a series of boxes. I’m in there, over four decades on hundreds of scattered pages, in a drawer, on a shelf, the most recent version of myself in a box on my writing desk, or, where the oldest pages are stored, in bins in theContinue reading “#277: The Topography of Our Intimate Being”
michael jarmer 