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Playing at the Desk

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In December I signed up for Two Sylvias Press’s December calendar of prompts.  I’m not a writer who can do a new poem every day, but I do find lots to work with so I continue into January, at least, working with the material.  I have maybe nine poems in draft so far that might amount to something, but sometimes it’s nice to just play for a bit. 

Here’s the prompt for December 21: “A contranym is a word with two opposite meanings, like bolt, which can mean to be secured or to flee.  This prompt invites you to write a poem that includes at least 3 contranyms-you will use each word twice in your poem reflecting its two opposing meanings . . . .”

Of course one could write a large and serious poem including this device, but I just had fun:

Down, Down, Down

On a frigid fall day leaves down
from trees increase the risk of falls.
I could grab my down comforter,
curl up in the rocker, or grab my
walking stick, a heavy jacket,
stick to my outdoor plan.

On this sunny day off
I leave town for a trail,
let worries fall off my shoulders
as I think only of my footing
on a rocky downhill slope.

If you’d like to try a month of prompts like this, I believe they will be offering this again for the month of April.  I may not be done with December’s by then.

Prompted

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In April I subscribed to the daily prompts put out by Two Sylvias Press.  I’ve done this before, I always get behind, and I do well if half of the prompts lead to something useful.  A few prompts spark new poems, but more often I produce what I think of as “pomelets” (“pome -lets” sounds better to me than “po-emlets”).

Here’s one, my response to the prompt: write a journal entry for a famous fictional character:

Roadrunner’s Journal

It’s a living, harassing Coyote,
somebody has to do it,
but is it a life?  Wish I could
find a mate, breed chicks,
a next generation, a legacy of sorts,
though I hear offspring can be unreliable,
reject their parents’ values,
go off their own way.  Mine
wouldn’t leave the desert would they?
That golf course, damp and green,
might tempt them to deny their heritage.
I only go to visit, briefly.

Roadrunners have a challenge figuring out how to coexist with the increasing number of humans, and their golf courses, in their territory.  I saw two in a neighbor’s front yard on one of my walks recently and wondered where they make their nest.

About the Iris

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The iris in the corner of my yard are out.  I’d been watching them from my desk.  Saturday morning they seemed still very tight.  Sunday afternoon several of them were waving their flags.

Iris0050

Here are some thoughts on how important such transient beauty is in the scope of our daily lives.  Thanks to a Two Sylvias Press prompt last year on “love and beauty in a terrible world.”

Balancing Act

The blue iris and the white,
white alyssum and purple mat
bloom in sandy spring winds.

Sitting beside you makes even
the building with one wall gone
bearable, though I get up to season

our thick bean soup to unsee
children carried on stretchers
after yesterday’s bombing.

We have news, a mute button,
an off switch.  And a camera
to record the short-lived iris blooms.