Here’s the seventh sonnet on the seventh day, a full week of two poems a day for a month. Right about now, the 20 days ahead is looking to me like a long haul. Today’s sonnet includes some extra-credit, bonus material. Sometimes 14 lines is not enough. So how about a twenty-eight line sonnet? Or,Continue reading “#486: I wouldn’t call myself insomniac . . .”
Tag Archives: poem a day
#483: A Mom Thing
My mother was not Jewishbut would often use the nameof the traditional wineas if it were a swear word. She’d exclaim in frustration,“Manischewitz!” I never learned why she did this, nor did I knowwhat the word meantand I never asked. Only after she died, and I was thinking about all the oddballsayings of hers, didContinue reading “#483: A Mom Thing”
#482: Shakespeare tried to immortalize his love . . .
Shakespeare tried to immortalize his lovein sonnets, in perfect iambic linesand in masterful metaphor, enjambed rhymes.What lives on is the poem, not the person. But it’s better than nothing, I suppose,and everyone who dies should have a poemcomposed in their memory, 14 lines,a poem that preserves something of a soul, that argues that the worldContinue reading “#482: Shakespeare tried to immortalize his love . . .”
#481: Three Blessings
Three Blessings(after Alicia Ostriker) To be blessedsaid the poetis to find a poemthat is not your poemfrom which you cansteal thingsto make into your own things To be blessed said the termiteis to find woodthat is not your woodinto which youcan borough and breeduntil the world collapsesright around the humans To be blessedsaid the atomisContinue reading “#481: Three Blessings”
#479: Spiders
Once gigantic spider-like creatures ruled this world. They were as big as lions or gorillas. The Strangest Things in the World, Thomas R. Henry Spiders I don’t kill spiders any more. For the most part, I ignore them.When I can, I scoop them upand I put them outside, which, depending I supposeon the variety ofContinue reading “#479: Spiders”
#478: So I resolved in the new year to try . . .
So I resolved in the new year to trya meditation practice once againafter a two-year mindfulness dry spell.Not entirely mindlessness, but close. For whatever reason, I could not sitand my cushion languished without me.But during that whole episode, I knewsomething was wanting, something was amiss.It’s not enough to write a ten-syllable line; no amount ofContinue reading “#478: So I resolved in the new year to try . . .”
#477 Surrealism is Dead: A Prose Poem
Surrealism is Dead It died right alongside Irony in the second and third decades of the 21st century. We tried to revive it. We administered the CPR. We kept the airway free. We turned it on its side so it wouldn’t choke on its own vomit. Finally, it gave up the ghost. Now, we lookContinue reading “#477 Surrealism is Dead: A Prose Poem”
#475: The Platonic Love Poem
The optional prompt today from the glorious NaPoWriMo website suggested a platonic love poem. It took me all of about three seconds to choose a subject. Adam I don’t remember a momentwhen it felt like I didn’t know you. On some great day in the 90swe met for the first timeand it was one ofContinue reading “#475: The Platonic Love Poem”
#473: The First Novel I Ever Read
Welcome to the very first day of National Poetry Writing Month, 2024, the goal of which is to write a poem every day for 30 days. I have nearly lost count at this point of the number of consecutive years I have participated in this ritual. I venture to say twelve. For twelve years inContinue reading “#473: The First Novel I Ever Read”
NaPoWriMo 2024: More, More, More, He Cried. With A Rebel Yell.
Well, that’s a nutty title–funny only for those familiar with the Billy Idol song, but appropriate for the year in the National Poetry Writing Month Extravaganza because I’m doing it again and I’m hoping to go big. Last year I vowed to write a sonnet every day for 30 days and I was, lo andContinue reading “NaPoWriMo 2024: More, More, More, He Cried. With A Rebel Yell.”
michael jarmer 