Look, someone booked herself for three writing sessions this week! Two are virtual, one in person. (An in-person and one virtual session will have already happened by the time you read this.) I’m treating myself to some kimo practice during these sessions. I will try to work in some of those attempts to this challenge.
I’ll mention this in my April State of the Book recap, but I finally finished an article I’ll be submitting to Nebraska Ancestree, the journal of the Nebraska State Genealogical Society. (Of course I joined! I’m also presenting at their 2022 conference on April 23. So, uh, you should attend and ask questions. 😉)
As I finalize this post, I am (sans earbuds) sitting on a picnic table at the park down the road from my office. Not many people have been by here lately. How do I know? There’s oak pollen all over the table. I can hear at least two bird species and possibly a woodpecker and a breeze rustling the tree leaves. Sometimes being present pays off.
Prompt (Day) 11: Write a Power Poem
Today’s prompt was “Write a Power Poem.” Hmm, convenient. I can work in that I opted against doing a power yoga video this morning! (I do a yoga video every morning. It’s one of the methods by which I treat myself to alone time.)
This felt like a tough one. I decided to try a 2-stanza early cinquain. It’s not my favorite poem of all time, but I think it’s okay. Even though I don’t particularly like the poem, I’m leaving it up as an example (To myself? To you?) that sometimes you can work on a poem for a couple of hours yet you still can’t make it work to your satisfaction. As Robert Smith sings, “It’s never enough.”
The sky outside, pitch dark while I arise,
I unroll my yoga mat on the ground
A power sequence? No, flow toward sunrise.
Yet, before the dawn I emerge outside
Cedar waxwings cheer me down endless road
Farther east to that muted pink sky
Farther east to the solitary cloud
Farther east to intensifying light
For granting me an enchanting sight
I thank whichever being so bestowed.
Bonus poem time! I did a bit more research into the cinquain form. Turns out I was stuck on the early cinquain, rather than the now-more-common modern cinquain. I don’t know where I got mixed-up, but here’s another version!
Power?
No, flow toward
sunrise. Cedar waxwings
encourage my path toward pink-
blue sky.
Prompt (Day) 12: Write a Counting and/or Not Counting Poem
Again, I accept willingly the challenge of creating two poems. I seem to find my groove quicker when I can play with two subjects and forms. The “Counting” poem is in kimo style (Israeli haiku with a 10-7-6 syllable scheme), while the “Not Counting” poem is a Fib style (6 lines in a 1-1-2-3-5-8 syllable pattern.)
Both, fascinating enough, call back to chronic and acute instances of not-severe-enough-to-be-clinical anxiety which I experienced as a child.
The counting poem recalls several months during 4th or 5th grade when I rarely fell asleep before 10:00 PM. I attribute some of this to consuming too much caffeine and sugar. It’s possible I hated school just enough to not want to fall asleep. (I was the chronically late kid who got in trouble for reading during class, too.)
The not-counting poem details a time during 6th grade music class when I was sure my classmates were actively destroying one of the school’s LPs. (My record player knowledge didn’t extend to remixing.)
COUNTING
Count sheep and my breaths until eleven
I revisit my day step
by ordinary step
NOT COUNTING
Wait!
scratch
vinyl
my classmates
found a turntable
I think, “You ruined a good record.”
kellyekosanda 