I wrote this for Laura’s Shovan’s Water Poem Project. On Day 15 Chris Baron challenged us to look beneath the surface of water. Apparently that was truly challenging for me. As you can see I saw a lot more above than below.

I was even more off topic on Day 9 with Kat Appel’s challenge to write a solage. A solage is a humorous three line poem. The first two lines rhyme. The third line is one word that adds a twist. My twist was leaving out the water!

 

Meta-solage

You say this poem has to rhyme?
Breaking rules is my favorite crime.
Free verse.

Elizabeth Steinglass

 

Today I also have a poem at Tabatha Yeatt’s blog The Opposite of Indifference. She is running a series for National Poetry Month, poems with the theme What I Wish You Knew. I am feeing incredibly grateful to Tabatha for thinking of this and organizing it and to the writers for sharing their experiences.

I hope you’re all hanging in there. I had some definite mood swings this week, but we are healthy and safe and together. I hope you and yours are well.

Amy has the roundup at The Poem Farm. See you there!

Liz

 

 

 

 

 

This form is called a skinny. A skinny has 11 lines, the first and last can be any length; they must use the same words, but the words can be in a different order. Lines 2-10 are one word each, lines 2, 6 and 10 are the same word. I find this form challenging to say the least. My goal was to get the words in lines 1 and 11 in a different order and to have slightly different meanings. Sheesh!

I wrote this for Linda Baie’s prompt on Day 14 on Laura Shovan’s Water Poem Project.

Happy National Poetry Month!

Liz

 

 

I am happy to add the next line of this year’s progressive poem. Irene Latham started this NPM tradition in 2012. This year Margaret Simon graciously agreed to keep it going. Donna started us off by offering two possible first lines. Irene and Jone have continued this pattern, so I have done it as well. I can’t help but think we poets have all had the experience of revising until we find ourselves going back and forth between two options, so we are now  joyfully taking advantage of the opportunity to let someone else make the final choice. Buffy, that’s you.

 

Sweet violets shimmy, daffodils sway
along the wiregrass path to the lake
I carry a rucksack of tasty cakes

and a banjo passed down from my gram.   (Option A)

a notebook and my best felt-tip pen.   (Option B) 

 

I hope you all have a good day today,

 

Liz

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Poetry Friday and National Poetry Month! This year I don’t have a particular plan other than to write and post every day. For the last 11 days I’ve been participating in Laura Shovan’s Water Poem Project. I love daily prompts because I can get started without having to wonder what to write about. I end up writing poems I never would have written otherwise. I wrote the concrete or shape poem above in response to Heather Meloche’s prompt. I watched a video of ocean waves and this “poured” out. I had hoped to insert the words on an image, but I don’t have the technical know-how, so I did this instead. I think I like it even better.

Amy VanDerwater’s prompt was to write a water memory poem, and I’m so very glad she did, because I remembered this moment with my sister.

 

Sisters

Who else
would run outside
in the drenching rain?
Who else would agree
to pour buckets
over her head,
lather her hair in shampoo
on the driveway?
Who else
would sing and dance
barefoot
in soaking t-shirts and jeans?
Who else
would say yes
to my crazy ideas?
Remember those few moments
when we were the beautiful, carefree girls
on TV?

Elizabeth Steinglass

 

I hope you are finding ways to celebrate poetry and community this month, while staying well, physically and emotionally.

Heidi has the round up today at my juicy little universe. Tomorrow I’ll be adding the next line of this year’s progressive poem. Jone MacCulloch has the line (or is that lines?) for today.

Wishing you all my best,

Liz

 

Happy National Poetry Month! I don’t have a particular project this year, but I’m going to try to post something every day. I’ve been trying to keep up with Laura Shovan’s #WaterPoemProject, so I may be posting a lot of water poems. Today’s prompt by Buffy Silverman was to write a mask poem from the point of view of an animal about their watery home. I may also give other people’s projects and prompts a try. We’ll see.

I hope you are well.

Liz

When will it be time to plant again?

When will it be time to plant again?
When will the risk of frost pass
so seeds can safely shed their coats?
When will the earth be welcoming?

Today the sun is bright.
We all run out to feel its warmth.
Is it time? we wonder, yearning
to see the slender sprouts

elbow the dark aside,
raise their tiny green flags,
and stake their claim.

Elizabeth Steinglass

 

For  most plants I think the answer to the question is not yet. One exception is apparently lettuce which prefers cooler weather. So that is what we planted last Thursday. I’ve never done this before, but I simply couldn’t wait. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I hope you are all hanging in there and that you and yours are well and safe. I am feeling especially appreciative to have poetry which grounds me and connects me to all of you.

Happy Poetry Friday. Tabatha has the round up at The Opposite of Indifference.

Liz

 

Hello Friends,

I hope you are all finding ways to stay well and find comfort these days. Like everyone I am needing art and community, something in abundance on Poetry Friday and at Spark! For those of you who are unfamiliar Spark is an inspirational art exchange. Visual artists inspire writers and writers inspire visual artists. When I participated a couple of weeks ago. I was matched with Elisabeth Mazzilli, a textile artist who hooks rugs. This immediately made me smile because when I was a kid, my mom went through a serious hooked rug phase. I still have a few of them. Above is the piece Elisabeth sent me. Here is the poem, I wrote in response.

 

night crossing
fireflies signaling
the moon

 

I know my details are off. Those are dragonflies, not fireflies and that’s the sun, not the moon, but that’s okay. The inspiration piece is simply meant to inspire a creative response. For some reason, Elisabeth’s piece absolutely compelled me to write haiku. I tried a few approaches to my response piece, and they were all haiku.

 

Here is the poem I sent Elisabeth for her inspiration.

 

I collect worries

I collect worries
the way others collect stamps.
I paste them to my skull
without concern for resale value.
At night when others sleep,
I page through them,
remembering where I got them,
how much I paid,
what else was happening at the time.
I savor them,
the way others hold onto places
they will never go.

 

Here is the piece she made in response over a mere 10 days.

 

 

Isn’t it incredible? Look there’s me and my quill and all my worries. I especially love the ribbons of worries and all the little knots.

 

That’s it for me this week. I look forward to reading your posts and to seeing you here more often.

Sending all good wishes,

Liz

 

Welcome to this week’s Poetry Friday party!

(If you’re wondering what Poetry Friday is and how it works, check out this post by Renee LaTulippe.)

This poem came to me one day after years of mulling about the importance of this little word, especially in contrast to its twin or. It’s wonderful to be able to say I’d like vanilla and chocolate, but it’s even better to be able to say I’m sad and I’m happy, I like this and I don’t, I want to go and I don’t want to go. I think and recognizes how messy and complicated we humans are in a way that or does not.

Please leave your link with Mr. Linky. I would of course love you to comment as well, and if you’re so inclined, to share your favorite word.

Have a lovely day and a lovely weekend. See you next week at Buffy’s Blog.

Liz

Night Fright

I am a ghost.
I live in the park.
I skulk all day.
I slip out after dark.

I drift along
unseen, alone,
haunting souls
of flesh and bone.

I skim the streets
the whole, long night.
I never fly higher—
I’d die of fright!

 

Happy Poetry Friday! I’m a little late, I know, but I only just finished writing. Thanks once again to Michelle Heidenrich Barnes for getting me to put fingers to keyboard and to Rebecca Herzog for asking us to consider what monsters are afraid of. Thanks too to Buffy Silverman who said let’s go post our poems.

Liz