Photo by Saud Edum via Unsplash
.
Today’s prompt asks us to “fill out, in five minutes or less, the following “Almanac Questionnaire.” Then, use your responses as to basis for a poem. Happy writing!
Almanac Questionnaire
Weather? Flora? Architecture? Customs? Mammals/reptiles/fish? Childhood dream? Found on the Street? Export? Graffiti? Lover? Conspiracy? Dress? Hometown memory? Notable person? Outside your window, you find? Today’s news headline? Scrap from a letter? Animal from a myth? Story read to children at night? You walk three minutes down an alley and you find? You walk to the border and hear? What you fear? Picture on your city’s postcard?” ~ NaPoWriMo, Day 26
I kind of went off the rails with this one… Not sure what else to say. It’s too long, but I can’t decide what to cut out yet. Also not sure about the form, but this will have to do for now.
PS–Most of the poems written this April will remain online for up to five days, after which they will be replaced by an excerpt, an erasure, or a thoroughly amateurish art piece that will only allow for bits of the original poem to peek through. At least, this is the plan. The reason being that, at some point, in the hopefully not too distant future, these drafts will undergo revision and begin their multiple-year pilgrimage through the slush piles of many a literary journal. So help me, O Muse.
PPS–Ah, to dream of lilac unicorns! The seashell angels tell me they exist. Which is why we replaced the original poem with this erasure. Well, that’s not the only reason for the replacement, but it’s a much better one. Four more days of tableaux! The seashell angels are so excited they’re going home, they started packing. So far, they have exactly two pairs of wings in their suitcases and nothing else. These are pretty small suitcases for some seriously ginormous wings.
.
Poetry from the trenches, Day 26
.
.
superb ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
🥰🙏
LikeLike
I don’t even know your name, clay-and-branches, but I want to say I think this is a terrific piece of writing. Surely not destined for a slush-pile! We often write best when we allow ourselves to go off the rails. And that can be so difficult.
Thank you for letting us see these tender newborn poems.
LikeLike
Thank you so much! I really appreciate your comment–and agree wholeheartedly. I try so hard to let go of logic and self-censorship in my early drafts, that when it finally happens, I don’t recognize it immediately as a good thing. Thank you. And here’s a link to my author page, in case you’re interested: https://clayandbranches.com/about/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Terrific poem surioara! Keep everything. I love it all, line by line, exactly how it is. When I think of you, I think of “[quote deleted by RI]” Very inspiring, Romana. Thank you. Keep writing, your words glow honeyed with light! Love you always ❤️🐝🙏
LikeLiked by 2 people
And I think of your blossoming plum tree and rosemary and sunflowers–all equally loved by bees. That’s quintessential Marga. 🥰Thank you for the praise, dear soul sister–you, too, keep writing and bringing more dappled things into the world!🙏💜
LikeLike
So powerful. Stream of gems.
[quotes deleted by RI]
I feel like a miner, landed in gold rush country.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, dear Jo C–I’m so happy you found meaningful things in this poem! 🥰
LikeLike
I really enjoyed the stanza on flesh. Beautiful job!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much!
LikeLike
The shadow knows. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
She always does.💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Publish!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hear, hear!😍💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Off the rails, you say. I see the rails, right there in the shadow. Two such monster prompts in a row… The key is that you are still running. (Even if the shadow is after you.)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Manja–I’m so glad you see the rails. I’m hoping for some clarity in May–at the moment, my head is filled with clouds. And I’m crawling toward the finish line. I think Shadow might be dragging me along…
LikeLiked by 1 person