Day 4 is the cruelest day. ヅ No, just kidding. See the first prompt immediately after this. Kind of a poetry in-joke.
Maureen Thorson's NaPoWriMo suggestion: “And now, for our (optional) prompt. In his poem ‘The Waste Land,’
Robert Lee Brewer's PAD assignment: “For today’s prompt, write a distance poem. As a runner, I automatically think of running when I think distance. But hey, there’s long distance relationships. Or why not get beyond geographic distance and consider distance in terms of time or emotional distance. Or some other interpretation.”
Okay, here's my poem merging both prompts. Good ones today, Maureen and Robert.
Long Distance Relationship
It's a terza rima sonnet. Not haiku stanzas this time. Meter, yes, kinda, roughed-up.
Alan says, “Combining a ‘worst month’ prompt with a ‘faraway’ prompt was easy for me because I have been on the road so much for the past few weeks.”
Alan, I love how you play with m sounds, alliteration and consonance, to highlight (I think) the operative word "month." You have, from the top, March, me, home, my, mountains, Maryland — just in the first two lines! Dipping in and out of the poem: from, someone, rim, limb, shame, remoteness, more, sometime, and company. Beautifully done.
Jed wrote two poems today. He says, “I couldn’t get the fan letter prompt [from yesterday] out of my head. This happened.”
“Or,” Jed continues, “if you want one for today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.”
Jed is playing some interesting, understated games with rhyme here. Notice in “Friction” how he buries the rhyme in those short lines, to disguise them, to hide them. And then a flurry of internal rhyme: the long e sounds in the final line, as well as in the one before it.
Above that, in “Dickinson” the occasional, subtle rhyme uncovers the poem as a disguised sonnet. Where the Shakespearean a rhymes would go: the long i in apologize and try; b: sis in sister rhymed with res in rescue; c: the l and f in life and shelf; d: think and look; e: the almost full rhyme of True and through; f: almost an eye rhyme in
Okay, we've seen several months take "cruelest" . . . March, February, my own laundry list of distance-tinged months. Here Ven gives us a paean to the beginning of the year.
Before we finish, I want to tell you something about Ven and this poem. Well, first about Ven and poetry: the man hates capital letters at the start of lines only for the sake of having them capitalized. If that first word in the line is neither a proper noun nor a sentence start, Ven deplores, deprecates, despises, detests, and disfavors capitals there. But for this specific poem, Ven told me, "I had to overcome my dislike for the capitals." Now, knowing that, go back and read Ven's poem again.
Following in Ven's seasonal footsteps here is Sarah, giving us a poem with widely varying line lengths.
Caution: Ice Ahead
Sarah, an apt evocation of winter and also your cruelest month. Thank you. Just as with Ven's, read down on the left.
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Ingat, everyone. ヅ
found poem: spirit
2 hours ago