Day 21 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day

Day 7 x 3. Or, applying the commutative property of multiplication, 3 x 7. See? Never let anybody tell you all that math you learned won't be useful someday! I've always been enchanted by 21 and its factors 3 and 7, always thought those three numbers were magical somehow. As long as I can remember. Or at least since I learned multiplication in school. Much gratitude today to Maureen Thorson, whose prompt at NaPoWriMo suggests trying the hay(na)ku. She mentions Eileen Tabios as inventor and me as namer . . . thanks for the shout-out, Maureen. At the always stalwart Poetic Asides Robert Lee Brewer suggests an "under the microscope" poem, literally or metaphorically. At Circle the Block Andrea Boltwood suggests a palindrome poem, which mirrors itself, beginning to middle with middle to end, forward then reverse. Again, I've mashed up all three prompts along with one of Maureen's previous prompts from Day 12: the homophonic translation or, as some call it, the translitic. Under the Microscope auto-translitic palindrome opening with a hay(na)ku Amoeba. Paramecium. Spirochetes. Algae. Planarian eyespots. Oh, gee. Plan your own ice pets. Pair of mice, yum. Spiral cats. I'm over. —Draft by Vince Gotera     [do not copy or quote ... thanks] Boy, these mashing-ups of daily prompts — four today, more than my usual two or three — are making for silly and sillier poems. Fun, though. I should really try for something more straightforward tomorrow. Just having trouble resisting those mash-ups! Catherine sent me this poem, but said, "I can't seem to settle on a title," so I've come up with this great gem of a title: Untitled You told me once you were going to paint a coffin, brush it with bones and flames, like the lizard-skinned race-cars and motorcycles that speed away from your garage, emblazoned with your name. Asked me if I would place you in it, put you on display, bury you in your own creation. So claustrophobic I can’t even be comforted by a down-coat on a cold day, I agreed, only if you promised I would have no coffin at all. Instead, split the wood, prepare the pyre, wrap me in red, lay me on a bed of oak, throw the first torch, kindle the consuming fire, dance in my smoky haze, wail your grief, then surrender my body to the blaze. —Draft by Catherine Pritchard Childress     [do not copy or quote ... thanks] I love that phrase, "dance in my smoky haze," Catherine; I also like the occasional end rhyme. Brava! Our featured NaPoWriMo blog today is Moon Junkee where Leslie LaChance is writing weird, wild, surreal poems. My fave is Leslie's parody of the divine Miss Em on Day 15. Enjoy! Okay, done with 3, 7, and 21. Blackjack! Hope you've had a wonderful poetry day. See you back here for Double 11? Please take a moment to leave a comment below. We'd love you to hear what you're thinking here at Blue Guitar Man (that's what my wife Mary Ann calls the blog). Ingat. POEM-A-DAY 2012 • Pick a day in April: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30