Thursday, December 27, 2007

Moon Island

Moon Island for Totally Optional Prompts December 27, 2007

Here are three false starts and then one that more or less meets the prompt. As you can see, I had a hard time getting into any poetry so decided to just go with what was happening and to post all of it to show my agonizing process.
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The moon walks with me at night
It puts its warm arm
around my shoulders
like a shawl
and steps along
with me
right, left
right, left

It’s wise eye
listens to my thoughts
or just smiles
at my decisions.

Bleck. Not another walking poem!

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The moon is an island of peace
I swim toward when I walk,
its wisdom as warm as a fleece.

After school, after husband, I need a new lease,
a new perspective, a fresh shock.
The moon becomes an island of peace

where the tribulations of the day cease
and I don’t have to listen to anyone talk
except the moon offering it’s fleece.

No, no, no! That fleece is terrible!
A villanelle should have much more memorable lines.
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It’s quiet
in the house.
My husband has gone to work,
Christmas is over,
the kids have returned
to their own lives,
and I’m on vacation.

Now I have time
to write
at leisure.

All this does is tell. Yuck!
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I get up with my husband
and make his chicken sandwich
then wait patiently
for him to go to work.

I hear his diesel engine
leave the driveway
and open my laptop
ready to dive
into as much poetry
as I want today.

I check out the prompt
at Totally Optional Prompts
and get an idea right away.

Four tries later
the words are flowing
one way onto the screen
but aren’t flying back
into my heart.

They are just pancakes
lying there with no maple syrup,
no butter.
I’ve lost my fork
and appetite.

I have no more gifts
to buy,
no food to prepare,
no lessons to teach,
no house to clean,
no husband bugging me.

So, where are the poems hiding?
Why won’t they come out to play?

I’m an island of solitude,
a balloon moon
floating through the day.

I need a lake of annoyances
with a long reflection
connecting me to the world.

I’ll wait until
my husband gets home
and in between
making supper,
listening to him,
watching the news

words will tiptoe
across my computer
and march
like soldiers
through my bloodstream
releasing rocket launchers
and setting off flares.

7 comments:

paisley said...

if these are not poetry,,, they are a wonderful warm up!!!!! check line two for typo.....

good morning linda... happy vacation!!!!!

gautami tripathy said...

I too agonised over my post. It was almost a pain.

Yours read fine to me. However, if you feel differently, when you feel better, you can always go back. As I will do.

dick said...

For what it's worth, I'd stick with the villanelle, Linda. Keep the central theme & work the form more rigorously. It only needs a little more crafting.

Jo said...

I like the last best, the balloon image lovely.

tumblewords said...

Good bones, in my opinion. The last stanza is full of energy and sets free a series of visuals.

sister AE said...

I love peeking into the process others use. I like the way the moon wanted to be in your poem and you discovered in the last one a way for it to be there without taking over the whole thing.

Lots of nice stuff in there, and some of the parts you don't like for this may well find places in other, future poems.

Crafty Green Poet said...

Thanks for sharing your process here.

Linda's Poems