Monday, April 5, 2010

April PAD Challenge - Day 5

Happy Easter!
I didn't get a chance to post 'cause of the holiday, so now I'll play catch up. Feel free to submit your poems from previous days on any blog post in April.

The source of the daily prompts can be found here at Poetic Asides.

Day 2 - Write a 'water' poem, or poem with water in it.

(Note: This poem is meant to be read out loud. I originally had all sorts of marks indicating tone and breath but decided it was too hard to make them appear here. Maybe someday I'll get around to recording it, but for now, just realize its not your traditional poem.)

Coming Home After

Ferdinand Magellan was a maritime sailor in 1521.
He started the first successful attempt to
Circumnavigate the earth.

Circumnavigate, as you might know, means to go all the way around
And come back.

He was looking for a way to get to spices, to get ahead, find his niche in the economy.
He didn't come back.

There was a battle in the Philippines and he died.
But his crew took up the slack,
took leadership and came back.

They finished the voyage and when they came home,
only 18 of the 227 men, strong good men
Met their children at the dock,
Lay with their wives that night,
Rejoiced at seeing familiar sights
After an unsure journey.

And I, a Minnesota College student in 2008,
started her first attempt to circumnavigate the drain.
I thought I knew what truth meant and was
Sure I could stand up to any professor,
Any digressor,
And shine like no one had seen before.

Like Magellan, I wanted a faster route to a happier life.

And as I sat in my lectures, feet on the floor,
edge of my seat,
mind an open door, beat-
ing as if it had its own heart...

Right from the start
Truth: became fiction.
Love: became diction and not passion.
There was no conviction.

My life began circling the drain.
Caught like a ship in a maelstrom,
Like a bug in a toilet bowl,
Like what mindlessness does
to the soul,
How the Earth soaks up rain.
And you know what I learned?

I died. In too many battles against foreign thoughts,
Even when I ought
To have given up I didn't and fell defending.
The 227 men inside me pulled on the ropes, and rigged the rigging.

I found the strongest parts of me were left behind.
Those who chose to fight and stave off the enemy
Stayed behind and --
Continue to sentry
The wary passages in my mind.

But I did come back.

The Magellan in me left and died,
But there was a remnant that carried on:
and it wasn't the parts I thought.

Only 18 came home, came back.
But I'm sure as they unloaded the ship that night,
Under a starry dome,
Safe from the deranged,
Walked around the town, met families and friends,
They didn't say they were home.
They said they were changed.

Day 3 - Write a poem with the title "Partly _______ "

I got this prompt mixed up in my head and instead wrote a poem titled "Probably ____". I suppose Partly could work just as well here.

Partly Special

I was handed an emerald box
By a talking badger in the woods.
I'm the secret heir to a throne and
I have ridiculously gorgeous hair.
I was sent on a quest to save some people
And I'm also wondering how to find my identity.

The emerald box contains the answer
To all of my problems.
But only if I know how to use it.
You might pass me by on the street,
But you should know I'm the kind of stranger
Who is partly special.

Day 4 - Write a history poem.

The Murderer's Song

A finch sings from his cage in my room.
It's a beautiful song.
And yet I feel like ignoring him.
I dress, eat breakfast, then go back upstairs
For something I forgot.
As I pass by his cage, I finally sit down and listen
And forget that he was the bully who
Killed my three other birds.
I forget to fault him for his birdie instincts
And just listen.
Is he sorry? Is his song an attempt at atonement?
Or is it just another instinct, to sing when the sun is up?
His little birdie body ruffles with the last notes
And no matter his history,
I feel an impulse to forgive him.

Day 5 - Write a TMI poem (Too Much Information)

RT@TMI Plz stop

My friend just ate a ham sandwich.
I know 'cause she posted a tweed.
Poetic perspective? Or Petty collective?
Whatever. It took seconds to read.


  1. I haven't been following most of the prompts because that is just something I don't do. Oh, well, here are my latest.

    The Collision of Seasons (Day 2)

    My heart beats
    In the stillness.
    Thump, thump.
    My iced feet
    Walk on air,
    Walk on the frosty ground.
    My words speak
    Silence into the dusk,
    Into the sunrise.
    The sun is coming up,
    It is going down.
    I feel the heat
    Across my back.
    I feel the chill
    Across my chest.
    The lush flowers,
    The dead grass
    All remind me
    Of my hidden past.
    My white dress
    And long black pants,
    I wear them both,
    Cause I couldn’t decide.
    The rain it pours,
    The ground is dry.
    The snow is light,
    The air is heavy.
    The trees blossom,
    The gardens rot.
    I am here.
    I am breathing,
    No matter the season,
    Or time of day.
    It all fades away.
    I am connected.
    I am seeking.
    No matter the reason.
    I could care less for this gibberish.
    Just let me be
    Where I am inside.
    Just let me be
    Who I am tonight.

    Reflection: June 7, 2009 (Day 3)

    Took a breath.
    Just one more step.
    Pulled myself together.
    This is the chance I’d been waiting for.
    Our eyes met.
    We embraced.
    My heart of ice.
    A smile on my face.
    Your soul of stone.
    A grin pasted to your cheek.
    I was so happy to be with you.
    I so regret being someone else.
    Couldn’t read your face.
    Didn’t know your heart.
    But you knew.
    You knew I was different.
    I am different.
    I changed.
    I changed for you.

  2. Day 5:

    The Black & White Photograph

    The picture with the burnt edges.
    The one in black and white,
    When we were sitting in the golden light.
    I miss you.

    We were on the swing,
    Just you and me.
    Frozen in action,
    You pushing me.
    I miss you.

    A smile creasing my lips,
    Your laugh echoing in silence.
    Cause a photograph can’t catch your sound.
    And a photograph can’t keep you here with me.
    I miss you.

    My hair was in the wind,
    As I swayed through the air.
    It’s in my memory forever,
    Or, at least in my photo album.
    I miss you.

    The trees around us,
    The grass so lush.
    I can tell,
    Even though the picture shows no color.
    Cause I remember.
    Yeah, I remember all the painful memories.
    And I miss you.

    I crease my finger around the frame.
    Wish I hadn’t burnt the edges,
    But it’s all the same.
    I still miss you.
    I still miss you in all the same ways.

    The world in sepia,
    The photo in black and white.
    The color has faded
    Since you left me here.
    But you’ll be back.
    And until that day comes,
    I’ll be here.
    I’ll have this picture in a frame,
    And I’ll keep those memories in my head.
    I miss you.
    I’ll always miss you.