And last but not least, now for our final prompt for this year! I’d like you to try your hand at a minimalist poem. What’s that? Well, a poem that is quite short, and that doesn’t really try to tell a story, but to quickly and simply capture an image or emotion. Haiku are probably the most familiar and traditional form of minimalist poetry, but there are plenty of very short poems out there that do not use the haiku form. There’s even an extreme style of minimalism in the form of one-word and other “highly compressed” poems. You don’t have to go that far.
Tears
S
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r a i n d r o p s
Today, I’d like to challenge you to produce a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully.
Loneliness
We have been friends for quite sometime
I don’t remember exactly
when you quietly slipped
your fingers through mine
but Loneliness, it took me
a long time to accept you
when memories hanging from
broken lampshades and upturned stools
threatened to unravel me
you came to my rescue
sitting by my bedside
as I feverishly trembled
at being abandoned
you helped to remove the
cobwebs of relationships,
wiped clean the slate of love
and helped build a fence around my heart
soothing me with soft murmured words
I realise now, with you in my embrace
I don’t need anyone.
Today I’d like to challenge you to try your hand at a meta-poem of your own.
The birth of a poem
Sometimes an idea flits across
like a butterfly
in my hurry to capture it
I end up damaging its ethereal wings
sometimes in the middle of a chore
the ubiquitous bulb lights up
I drop everything
as I grab my phone
sometimes during my walk
I hear a susurration, a whisper
I chant it feverishly, afraid to lose it
sometimes a tune is like an earworm
playing on and on
till I release it
on a clean sheet of paper
sometimes words gush out of my pen
as if a floodgate has been breached
refusing to be contained
sometimes I have to use
all my persuasive powers to plead
with the elusive expression
which wallows in wilderness
sometimes a thought
hits like a sledgehammer
leaving me dazed
with its forcefulness
sometimes a spoken word, a written phrase
triggers a barrage of outpouring
difficult to stem
sometimes injustice does not let me sleep
till bloodshot eyes have wept
crimson words of regret
sometimes blood and gore
leave me shaking and shivering
and the shaky handwriting
steadies my wobbly world
sometimes seething white hot anger
shapes each word with precision
sometimes a gurgle
of innocent laughter or a genuine smile
brightens my day
and it is there for all to see
sometimes a forgotten memory
nudges the fingers
to reclaim its place
to be recorded for posterity
sometimes a conversation
sparks creativity which is so original
sometimes a night of passion
seeps a bit into the open
despite my inept effort to keep it under wraps
sometimes what could be
fills me with wistful longing
daydreaming that distant dream
sometimes…
oh well! each baby is different
and decides to be born in her own way!
The sun was
in no mood to relent
giving no respite
from its heat intense
the clouds were
lacklustre and tired
hiding under the horizon
feeling so uninspired
the wind afflicted with
identical problem
did not even stir
jaded and too benumb.
Today I’d like to challenge you to “remix” a Shakespearean sonnet. You can pick a line you like and use it as the genesis for a new poem. Or make a “word bank” out of a sonnet, and try to build a new poem using the same words (or mostly the same words) as are in the poem. Or you could try to write a new poem that expresses the same idea as one of Shakespeare’s sonnets.
Doffing my hat to the Bard
O! how I faint when I of you do write
So all my best is dressing old words new
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
Incapable of more, replete with you!
You should live twice,–in it, and in my rhyme
Since all alike my songs and praises be
When in the chronicle of wasted time
Those lines that I before have writ do lie!
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might
Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
Why is my verse so barren of new pride!
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.
(This entire sonnet is made up of lines from various sonnets by Shakespeare. I had thought it would be easy but I have been toiling for hours reading and picking suitable lines! If you like it, you know who gets the credit, if it is lacking in any way, you can lay the blame squarely at my door!)
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a word, or phrase. You can even repeat an image, perhaps slightly changing or enlarging it from stanza to stanza, to alter its meaning. There are (perhaps paradoxically) infinite possibilities in repetition.
Revolutionary
Sitting in a dark room under a dim bulb
Plotting a revolution
Feverishly fiery verses he did sculpt
Looking for absolution
Plotting a revolution
A one man army with a mighty pen
Looking for absolution
Writing incendiary verses to arouse men
A one man army with a mighty pen
So puny against avarice and crassness
Writing incendiary verses to arouse men
But losing to the indifferent masses
So puny against avarice and crassness
Feverishly fiery verses he did sculpt
But losing to the indifferent masses
Sitting in a dark room under a dim bulb.
A veritable livewire
a cornucopia of ideas
ranging from wacky to bizzare
mind abuzz with
a thousand pranks
mercurial temperament
disdain for rules but
mostly toeing the line
a deep-rooted restlessness
a yearning forever
always in a hurry
yet the laziest of the lot
loving and giving
following errant heart
she is a child woman
with a world weary soul.
(For a dear friend)
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