Back to writing work

What a relief to not have to drive an hour to Anaheim and back anymore. I finished my consulting job - which I loved - but I'm very happy not to have to do that stressful drive anymore. 

So instead, I'm using my time to catch up on my writing work.

The first order of business is gathering my November 2012 challenge poems into a chapbook. Robert Lee Brewer's instructions are to submit no more than twenty by January 7 - this coming Monday.  I went through them this afternoon and picked out fifteen. I have a little editing left to do, and then I plan to get the document off tomorrow. After that I'm on to the next item on my list. 

It gives me great joy (there's my word Joy that I picked for 2013) to tick items off my to-do list.

Here's a preview of a couple of poems I'm submitting.

This prompt was to write about something just beneath my skin.

Just Beneath My Skin

Unfortunately

those miracle creams

that are supposed to

get rid of age spots

fine lines, deep wrinkles

don’t work

No matter how much I slather on

they just linger there

like a film on my face,

neck and décolletage.

They never get to where they belong

just beneath my skin

This prompt was to write a poem about a wheel (my suggestion) - any use of the word wheel.

Photo by Madeline

The London Eye

Every 30 seconds a capsule door opens

to let passengers in or out.

Yet the giant Ferris wheel

doesn’t stop so that

slowly, carefully

we see the London landscape

from every angle.

As we gaze through the glass oval

capsule walls

we also see into the capsule below

and watch a couple

in full wedding regalia

get married.

The only thing we miss -

enjoying a sip

of their celebratory champagne

with their thirty guests.

The November Poem A Day Challenge is in full force

While I don't intend to post every poem I write during this challenge, I'll start here with Day 1.

Here's the prompt: 

Write a matches poem. The matches could be sticks that make fire. Or it could be matches from a game. Or the verb of “to match.” Or as in the phrase “He’s not a good match for you.” Or whatever other match you can make.

And here's my attempt:

At the Match

She watches on the sidelines

hunched over, her arms, legs

fingers crossed for luck.

Her head looks left, then right

as the ball goes over the net

back and forth

back and forth.

She takes a deep breath

when her son loses a point,

then her head looks left and right

again.

His opponent beats his racket

on the court when he misses,

sneering at his father

standing with his nose

at the fence.

But, calmness prevails.

Her son’s last shot,

his famous backhand down the line,

wins, and she knows

they’ll have a great drive

home.

Ben, age 14

He had a few tennis trophies

Get ready for the November PAD with Robert Lee Brewer

During the month of November I’ll be again participating in Robert Lee Brewer’s November Poem A Day (PAD) challenge. He’s changed it up a bit this year. He’s asked us to submit a 10 to 20-page chapbook contest in January with poems culled from those created during the November challenge. I’m going enter. And I encourage my poetry-writing readers to follow suit.

Robert Lee Brewer

Robert also sends a great poetry prompt every week on Wednesday (except during November and April PAD challenges). To rev up some interest, here are some of my prompt responses (and the link to his latest prompt.) Remember the poems below are mostly unedited.

Write a box poem. This poem is either about a box or includes a box somewhere in the poem (or title). Don’t be afraid to poem outside the box this week (sorry, I had to say it).

Things in Boxes

He left a black canvas box

filled with his music recordings

next to his bed,

the cassette tapes neatly packed

in order of performance.

And on his closet shelf

we found a cardboard box filled

with little games, cars, toys,

1984 Olympic souvenirs,

and Russian buttons and buckles

his uncle brought back for him.

He fit these favorite things

together like an intricate puzzle,

before he left his body

for us to put in a box

in the ground.

Write a dessert poem. The poem can be titled as a dessert. The main characters could be eating or waiting for dessert. Or dessert could just be hinted at in the poem. Of course, I’m expecting a variety of desserts to be mentioned. 

A friend once said,

“Life is short, eat dessert first.”

She must have had a premonition

an insight into her future

because not long after

she became ill

and died. Her life

stopped just when she should

have been eating all those

sweet cakes and pies.

I’ve never forgotten her

and her flair for

conjuring up the unknown

and enjoying the brief

life that she had.

Write the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Simple as that.

Paul’s death thirteen years ago

 – simple as that.

a mother’s worst nightmare

to have a child die.

And that I’m here

to write about it

is truly a miracle.

Rest in peace, Paul

I’ll never forget

or stop loving you  

– simple as that.