I think I know why I’m writing these poems– I’ve two a day for a full thirty days.If for only one month in the whole yearI’ve found a discipline that keeps me trueto the kind of thing I most want to do.No one’s waiting, holding their breath for me, there would be no consequence forContinue reading “#532: On Writing 60 Poems in 30 Days”
Tag Archives: sonnet a day
#529: The Impossible Pot (again for Terri Ford)
It seemed at first impractical, and then inflatable, then improbable, now impossible, this ain’t no blow-up pot, but a real one. Or is it? It does not look plastic or rubberand there’s no nipple to put air into or suck air out of. It may actually bea real clay pot, and yet, look carefully. TheContinue reading “#529: The Impossible Pot (again for Terri Ford)”
#528: The Improbable Pot (for Terri Ford)
In the picture, the man appears to be carrying a large clay pot on his shoulder, a pot painted to look like a gigantic boombox, like the ones in the80’s, so that while he carries it, helooks like he might also be rocking out,the speakers right up to his ears for thatoptimal stereo sound. ItContinue reading “#528: The Improbable Pot (for Terri Ford)”
#527: An American Sonnet after Simon’s American Tune
We come on the ship they call The MayflowerWe come on the ship that sailed the moonWe come in the age’s most uncertain hoursAnd sing an American tune Paul simon Something must be wrong with us, it seems. Half of us appear to have lost our minds.I attempt to write a poem that doesn’t trytoContinue reading “#527: An American Sonnet after Simon’s American Tune”
#526: An American Sonnet
It’s been difficult to ditch the English wayof tapping out syllables. I liberated myselffrom that whole mapping of rhyme schemebut I still gravitate helplessly toward that godforsaken rhyming couplet at the end. Claude McKay adopted the whole shebangand wrote the most significant sonnetsof the twentieth century, as Beyoncé hasschooled us about the true roots ofContinue reading “#526: An American Sonnet”
#523: The leaves came into the oak trees today…
The leaves came into the oak trees todayand I almost missed it. I looked up andin a moment they sprouted into fullbloom as if on cue. This was no time lapsetrick of technology, no, just my eyesdeciding that they should turn up the gazeskyward to the tops of these gloriousbeings. And, Christ, I almost missedContinue reading “#523: The leaves came into the oak trees today…”
#521: Sonnet for Project MA
Over the last year and a half or so, I have rediscovered the joy of it, the making of music with a good friend, a friend I had not seen for twenty-five years. From three thousand miles away, he’d begin.He’d send me these tracks, a bass and a click, some keyboard flourishes, and I’d importthemContinue reading “#521: Sonnet for Project MA”
#520: A Sonnet in Response to Anthony Fantano’s Review of “The Tortured Poets Department” by Taylor Swift, Written in the Second Person, in Service of the Concluding Couplet, and Not to Hide the Fact that I Liked the Record
You try not to be influenced by him;he’s smart, knowledgeable, a bit verbose, but often he’s critical of things you like,and mostly, mostly, you’re okay with that. But his bad review of the new Tay Tay made you doubt your own sense of what is good, made you think you had drunk of the Kool-Aid.HisContinue reading “#520: A Sonnet in Response to Anthony Fantano’s Review of “The Tortured Poets Department” by Taylor Swift, Written in the Second Person, in Service of the Concluding Couplet, and Not to Hide the Fact that I Liked the Record”
#519: I am not waving, but drowning
(after Stevie Smith) I am not waving, but drowning, and youkeep waving, like an idiot savant,when all I need now is a rescue line, a rope, a tube, anything that will float.Don’t you walk away; I’m not quite dead yet, the water has not yet entered my lungsand I am still gasping my last breathswhileContinue reading “#519: I am not waving, but drowning”
#518: Sonnet After Beers, with Laundry
The washer and the dryer now sing songswhen the cycle is done, and I don’t knowwhy that was a necessary feature, as if it’s not enough to hear them stop. I’m doing laundry in the basement nowafter having had a few I.P.A.sand exhausted late night YouTube views ofcomedy shows and the most recent newsall concerningContinue reading “#518: Sonnet After Beers, with Laundry”
michael jarmer 