Last year, I was very faithful to my intention to write a poem each day for National Poetry Writing Month.  I didn’t make much headway with it this time around at first.  Some combination of lack of discipline, sleep, and inspiration left me with a few jagged, unfinished lines across a few days.  I didn’t feel as badly about it as I thought I might.  It just didn’t seem to be happening.

Then, NPR’s afternoon show, Tell Me More, announced that they’d be featuring poetic tweets each day.  Something clicked for me, and I have really been enjoying finding the essentials, boiling down some experience or complex mood to 140 characters or less.  I gave myself the extra challenge of using every character if I could, inclusive of the hash tag: #tmmpoetry.

I could see doing much more writing like this @spiritrockssexy – letting the little bursts of creativity out where there is little room for explanation. I cheated a bit, perhaps, as a few of these seemed to call for titles in addition to their 140.  Some of these poems feel like just a beginning.  Still, this is an interesting way to find the opening lines.

I was pleased to find this first one (sans title) was posted on Tell Me More’s Muses & Metaphor 2012 page:

Today, while anticipating you in summer

took to the fern print blanket.
sang first time this month.
remembered the reinless hum of wanting.
bought raisins and radishes.

 

Green Earrings, essential

(Inspired by: Fire in the Hole – Sara Isaksson & Rebecka Törnqvist)

Two voices, harmony
a lifeline drawn in French kiss tension
piano, honey-stark, sets free keys
shaven to breathless brilliance

 

A churning stomach digesting stories
misses truth by the volume of its growling.
My frantic eye missed the prism
avoiding rain

 

hard muscle tribal tats
under cargo pants, bikini shaven
square hips, a blonde girl swoosh!
a cartwheel through gender playground

 

ginger hot I watch
closer
sweet like petals
a hand a shoulder
a still center
a third heart
privy to their union
our silky wonder

 

Just past Jackson Rd.
horses, goats, and green replace
hardwares and fire trucks.
No Trespassing Park is worth a quick defiance.

 

Take off the faded blues
business casual, glitter
boots
or let little black dress fall
to ankles.
What do you see in life, naked?

 

I Should Look Again Tomorrow

Grey failings, lanced through to center
judged even by the sweet empathic eye.
So apparent is my never-vibrant purple,
so unmade

 

It has taken me days to write anything at all on the passing of the wonderful Levon Helm.  At least, here is a tiny first try.

 

Phoenix of the holler and hip
electric American dirt
your voice has outgrown the reel.
Travel well, backbeat healer.