April 9, 2013 - Epigraph Jump-star
Often between the title and the poem itself we
find a short, credited quotation intended to
suggest the poem’s theme. Pick a short
quotation from anything, one that speaks to you,
and let it be your poem’s jump-start. I took two
possible quotes given from list.
The way is not in the sky.
The way is in the heart.
THE LOVING PILOT OR HAS
THE PASSENGER LOST THEIR
Can the heart and sky
learn to dance together?
Can learning to fly
be filled with loving?
Cannot one be filled with compassion
while up in the air?
Does not both have their rewards?
Do I dare question
the wisdom of the Buddha?
When you realize how perfect
You will tilt your head back and laugh at
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
- I’m Nobody
Write a Nobody poem. Or fight with the idea and
in a poem assert your right to be Somebody.
A ROUND AND A ROUND
I am no-body
I am no-mind
I am no-emotions –
the book of my personality
and it’s stories in this life
I just borrowed
from a higher library.
I am the temporary writer
writing out my life -
some chapters read smooth
with unexpected twists and turns,
some paragraphs could do with a re-write.
Getting help sometimes from a good editor
other times a chat
with fellow authors does the trick.
Some books I wrote before
are now overdue
and I paid the fine
to balance out my account.
I’ve had some good conversations
with the Publisher
who says I need to write
a few more books.
before I get the
Eternal flow of it All.
April 11, 2013 - Imaginary Paintings
How would you paint:
loss, surprise, music, time, wildness, God,
vulnerability, courage, loneliness, the heart, etc.
Turn abstractions into images. The poem’s
possibilities are endless. It can be a list poem of
imagined paintings make the images quite
HOW WOULD I PAINT PAINT
Fluid but open
breathing in imagination
and brushing up
dipped in colors of inspiration.
HOW WOULD I PAINT MEMORY
I had an idea what to write
but I forgot it, it walked out the door.
Sometimes I forget to even open the door.
Memory is like a singing bird in the trees
one day you hear it’s voice,
another time it seems to camouflage
or fly away.
Maybe I should try some bird feed?
HOW WOULD I PAINT PRAYER
With a dab of pure blood from the heart
and a silent connection of one’s mind.
HOW WOULD I PAINT SILENCE
First wash off my brushes
close tight the caps
on the colorful tubes of paint.
put away the outer canvas.
HOW WOULD I PAINT SURPRISE
With an unexpected exuberance
jumping on the Sun
as it crossed the Sky -
as I jump, I feel my feet burning
on the Sun’s floor,
filing me with surprise.
HOW WOULD I PAINT HUNGER
Use cold colors,
getting the last bit of paint
out of tubes
a gnawing need to do more
with the little one has.
HOW WOULD I PAINT REGRET
A half-finished painting
feeling I could have done more -
if I only had the paper and paint,
tubes and time.
HOW WOULD I PAINT LAUGHTER
by donning funny glasses
using the bushy eyebrows
while wearing over-sized canvas sneakers
with wild colors.
Joyfully wearing a clown costume
and laughing out loud
with each brush stroke.
The poems were part of the Poem-a-Day Project
from the Hillsdale, NY Public Library.
I thank Jan Hutchinson who organized and
sent out the daily poetry prompts.
Monday-, April 1, 2013 - Imagist Miniatures
Write a few small poems that are purely image. Do not interject
yourself or your thoughts into your few lines of clear and exact
image. Just describe. Do not allow in abstractions. Do not
address the reader. Notice particulars. Make every word count.
Sitting in front of me
a pressed wood cluttered computer desk
a stack of musical Cds to the right
with written and unwritten papers
adorning the left,
sits an empty
natural tan-colored card sized envelope –
the envelope sits quiet
with no address on its front
and nothing behind its dry glue laden
triangular shaped flap–
SITTING IN MEDITATION
Tuesday, April 2, 2013 - Imagism Plus
Oh, the distinctions are blurry indeed but in this second
exercise move beyond pure image into I statements, You
statements, metaphor, or perhaps anthropomorphizing. An
imagist poem stays outside in the images, in what is seen or
sensed. The aphorism, microgram, or proverb seems to
address the reader. Though the tiny poems might preach at
times, they do so without becoming intellectual. They are
simple, wise, mysterious, and short. Try some.
THE SOUNDS OF BOOKS
I had a novel experience yesterday.
I sat in a cushioned chair in the back of the library
looking out the window
watching the drops of rain
strongly wash against the library pane.
I imagined that each drop of water
was filled with the story.
overflowing with life.
The sound of the rain and their tales
played like a symphony
harmonizing and echoing the sweet music
of the unborrowed books on the shelf.
It is getting close to midnight -
I sit and listen
siting on my hands
watching, waiting for the clock
All the clocks are on strike
and time has left
it’s temporary mark.
Wednesday April 3, 2013 - A Poem A Child Might
Write a poem that a child might write. Fall into that voice of
slightly goofy innocence and wonder. Trust simplicity and the
way children give human emotions to objects like the lonely
When the Sun is out
I play in the yellow
Then the clouds come
I go inside.
I like the Sun better.
Thursday April 4, 2013 - Seven Little Poems
Write seven (or however many) numbered, small, disparate
poems of three to five lines . Don’t let the little fragments speak
plain sense. Give them image plus mystery. Allow them to
circle sense, nudge up against it, but not quite settle into
obvious meaning. Each of the small, numbered poems should
be able to stand alone, and yet together, as stanzas of a longer
poem, they should make up a mysterious whole.
© charlie elkind April 2013
ONE IN SEVEN, SEVEN IN ONE
One’s speaks of seeds
of being buried in the ground
thirsting for a drop of water
to sprout a new hat.
Two’s talk of tension
the dancing of two ducks
playing in one pond.
Three’s wears a triangle
on their heads, they swim like
a buccaneer on
waves of creativity.
Four’s are kind of base
then they square off -
only to slowly rest
in a corner, for nothing.
Five’s are fast
and filed with sense,
they finger each day
and fast on Tuesdays.
Six’s are caretakers
who live at home in families
they eat together in groups.
Seven’s are priests
worshiping the mind
they mediate and rest
on life's divine.
Friday, April 5, 2013 -
Starting Place/ First Line
Your poem should mention first lines or getting
started. The first line of your poem might be: “In
the first place.” Where do the little words hide?
…perhaps under the corner of the page.
I found a few letters hanging out on my desk
I tired to put them together
then a few words, sentences.
but something was missing–
The words lacked meaning and feeling
felt empty, shallow.
So I started again.–
this time with paragraphs and metaphors-
but that wasn’t it either
so I sat down and meditated
going to that place of birth ,
where poems where born
a seemingly endless womb of wordless
Gently a poem started to emerge.
Saturday, April 6, 2013 -
Let Music Be Your Metaphor
Music becomes the metaphor — the notes are
boats, the violin forgives, the universe becomes
a tambourine played against your thigh. And
what about the blue guitar? Go anywhere with
ATTUNING MY INSTRUMENT
Some days I feel like a flute, some days a
When I feel flute-like
I seem to soar.
floating on air
dancing with the winds -
my travels trilling in and out
between the music
of my creations.
Other days I feel heavy and deep
sounding like a bassoon.
Some deep is divine
but other deep’s
are just sounds
that sound like the ass
hanging out in the middle of the word.
Sounds mix together
like our life.
Monday, April 8, 2013 - Gift
Your poem will be about a gift. It can be about a
physical gift given or received, but, better yet, it
can be about a less tangible gift — a noticing or
A NOTE ABOUT GIFTS
The greatest gift to me is Life
the gift of awakening at dawn
the gift of rest at night
We each have numerous gifts
to give and receive.
Even those gifts
we’d like to bring back
to the Return Gift counter
have their special place –
Some gifts come with a explanatory note,
some do not.
|Charlie's Poetry - Page 9 - A Poem a Day - Page 1