Thursday, April 11, 2013

#10: I Remember

I remember the bright brown old oak table we used to have
I remember the night that it rained so hard that water leaked through the roof and we put buckets all over the house
but not soon enough to save the table
I remember how it bulged up at its seams when the water seeped in
and the water never seeped out

I remember how I used to love myself with abandon then
I remember the first day the Neutrogena commercials began to brainwash me
I remember wishing my hair were as straight and predictable as Jennifer Love Hewitt's

I remember the daily battles with mediocrity that started when my age creeped closer to 30 than to 20

I remember the seasons changing in the leaves of the maple tree in the front yard
which we eventually cut down with hollow hearts because its roots prevented the grass from growing
I remember how the grass never grew back



--
prompt: Don't Forget
Listen to an excerpt of Joe Brainerd’s “Remember” here: http://buff.ly/14GJb1c Write your own version.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

#7: I Regret to Inform You

I regret to inform you
that these words that are bursting forth from my left
ventricle don't circulate in my blood in the pattern you were taught
in school but move through my sternum as a sound wave suppressed
that is channeled into my fingers.

I regret to inform you
that these thoughts are so dark
that those who love me are too scared to finish reading
and I am too scared to read these stanzas to the ones
whose blood my smile helps pump

(better that I howl absurd as Allen Ginsberg
than close my eyes to make the world drop dead
as Emily Dickinson)

I regret to inform you
that sometimes these poems are reminders of
the essence of life as death
and the enjambment can only make me hope that
after death
comes nothing.



--
prompt: 7. I Regret to Inform You
"Write an ode to one regret that you have."

Friday, April 5, 2013

#5: Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner Soup

Pink spice, orange sugar, yellow zing, white sulfur
water
pressure
lentils
and the love of a friendship that continues to grow
in new directions after many years
but at the base has always been
cumin.



--
prompt: Look What I Made
"Make something. Anything! Write a poem about your spontaneous making experience."

Thursday, April 4, 2013

#4: No hay señal

This webpage is
NOT AVAILABLE!!!!!!11
google
chrome could not load
the webpage because
w
w
w
DOT
amazon
DOT
com
took-too-long-to-respond;
the website may be
down
or you may be
experiencing issues with your Internet connection.
Here are some suggestions:





--
prompt: Found Poetry
"Look to Craigslist, newspapers, Twitter, anywhere for unintentional poetry. Using the original text, punctuate and use line breaks to turn it into a poem."

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

#3: Brother

You left in the womb gifts of nonsense and nicknames
and at birth they were in my marrow.

That mixture of aching love, admiration, fear, and guilt
that arcs through our aortas for the ones who gave us life--
we share a secret knowledge of how to titrate
what makes that blood.

The loveless lives of sad struggle the astrologers predicted for
both of us
don't depress me
because we will walk along, cursed hand in cursed hand,
under inauspicious full moons and pernicious sun beams,
laughing until our lungs breathe their last.




--
prompt: "3. Just For You"
Write a poem to someone and share it with them.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

#2: Acquaintances

There are many of them
who will gather dust
as tattered new years resolutions
as moth-eaten dresses in dim attics
as shattered glasses in a library
full of books
and a crumpled old man
thirsting for words
and eyes too weak to see them
finds no respite from
solitude or
irony.





--
prompt: "2. Ink Stains"
Write a poem on paper quickly without lifting your pen from the page. Post image if possible. No edits.

Monday, April 1, 2013

#1: Two Tin Roofs

21: Sweating foreheads, father's tears and baby's yellow skin in a corrugated oven

26: Gray clouds rattling holes in the concrete and the loose-lipped husband
fingers grazing the wife's wincing stomach and quickening pulse

Did your naïveté give you the gift of hope to save a life
and did five years of books jade your heart about losing one?




--
prompt: "1. Easy Does It"
Write a short poem (less than 5 lines). Be sure to include at least two strong images. Don’t over think it, just do it!