Day 28 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day 2021

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day prompt: “[W]rite a remix poem. This has become one of my favorite prompts, because it asks us to look over what we've written this month and pick something (or many somethings) to poem out in a new way. Maybe your free verse becomes a sonnet or your sestina transforms into haiku. Or take a line or phrase from each of your poems this month and work it into a cohesive new creation.” Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “[W]rite a poem that poses a series of questions. The questions could be a mix of the serious ('What is the meaning of life?') and humorous ('What’s the deal with cats knocking things off tables?'), the interruptive ('Could you repeat that?') and the conversational ('Are those peanuts? Can I have some?'). You can choose to answer them – or just let the questions keep building up, creating a poem that asks the reader to come up with their own answer(s).” Today I remixed my poem "The Moon, Always Waiting, Speaks" from Day 17 into a series of questions. The original poem, on Grant Wood's 1931 painting The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere, was spoken by the moon looking down from the sky at Revere riding through a hamlet at midnight. The remix focuses on the man standing in his doorway, startled by Revere's ride . . . see the detail from the painting below (click for a magnified view). Grant Wood, The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere (1931) Who Was That Masked Man? —after The Midnight Ride of     Paul Revere by Grant Wood Who just rode by, making such a clatter in the middle of the night? Maybe a highwayman wearing a kerchief for a mask, up to no good? All in black, astride a black horse — one of the Four Horsemen? Do you think, dear wife, that the end of times are nigh upon us? Could you hear what that rapscallion was yelling? Who's coming? End of times indeed — pfft! — has this anything to do with us? Come, let's back to bed. Did you see that beautiful moon above? I wonder what the man in the moon thinks about all this uproar? Surely we are safe here, wife. Won't good King George see to that? —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Alan remixed his poem "Leech" from Day 19 into a question poem. Leech, Reconsidered And do you expect the guy taking the 8:15 a.m. first-semester British survey to have read the material any time but right before he fell asleep the night before, having put off the chore of Beowulf until the last possible moments of a long day? And do you expect the guy who sits in the back of a lecture hall with something approaching stadium seating although it holds only about fifty students, max, to expect to draw your attention, much less offer his? And do you expect the guy whose political opinions take up less space on the front of his trucker hat than his own name would to get or even acknowledge parallels between the centuries-old texts and current events? Why should he recognize the tragicomic qualities of sexual relations? Why should he be engaged by a bold Christ who would sacrifice His mortal being to             fulfill a mission of love? Why would he denigrate a self-delusional rebel who comes to understand only at the last             that even his failed rebellion has been foreseen, defeated before begun? Perhaps he is enjoying a rich internal life. Perhaps he has calculated that his efforts would be better spent in his profitable major             than in a gen ed course where somebody evaluates his minimal effort assignment fulfillments as if they matter in the long run. Perhaps the only thing he read all the way through was Dr. Faustus, and he understood             it, and he decided it was a good deal, after all. —Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

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