NaPoWriMo, Yay!

I adore spring.Small-Blue-RGB-National-Poetry-Month-Logo

The birds are waking me once again in the early morning. We can open our windows to fresh air. There are thunderstorms and rain to soothe my soul and water Earth.

And soon-to-be-here April ushers in two ways of celebrating this all of this wonder –
National Poetry Month and NaPoWriMo
(National Poetry Writing Month).napofeature3

National Poetry Month is a time I celebrate poetry in many ways, but one of my favorite is with my first graders. We listen to poets, hip hop, the classics, and watch poems that have been
made into videos. They are intrigued enough to write their own
poems and start down the road of the bard.

One of my greatest inspirations, not only this month but all
year long, is Tweetspeak Poetry. I receive an Every Day Poem
in my inbox each morning. Check them out. They also have a
myriad of ways to inspire and share word. They even have poems
to color. And maybe even a free e-book of poetry? Take a look,
especially at their Top 10Sites To Follow For National Poetry Month
to further entice you into poetry.tweetspeakpoetry.com_

 

And….Yay!!!!!! NaPoWriMo!!!!

This is the month long challenge of writing a poem every day. For each day of April, the fine folks at NaPoWriMo list a prompt and a poet. You take it from there. Join me?

I will post my poems each day – a brave thing to do, maybe silly and foolish – but it is a wonderful way to release and quiet that inner editor.

AND, I hope to partake in the  Big Poetry Giveaway 2016. Check back April 1st for more information on how you can win a free copy of my book of poetry, Filters, and one from one of my favorite poets!

In the meantime, sharpen your pencils, dust off that keyboard, get some really yummy snacks and some coffee, lots of coffee. (Oh, I know many of you are tea totes, but that’s okay. You can play, too.)

Let’s get ready to rumble!!!!! And tumble. Maybe even bumble and mumble a bit.

 

Random Acts of Poetry Day, Showing the Love

 

Sharing the love from yesterday’s Random Acts of Poetry Day. Random-Acts-of-Poetry-Day-Hairpin

Thank you, Tweetspeak Poetry for inspiring us to share the love of poetry randomly around the world. Let’s do it again next year!

My first grade class at Independence Elementary in Colorado spent the day randomly visiting classrooms to share their favorite poems. We wrote our morning and evening chants on colorful sentence strips and placed them on the walls all over the building. Our principal asked us to keep them up because on Friday principals 12115975_10206529840036695_4543547717059554816_nfrom all over the Cherry Creek School District will be visiting us and she wants them to see our love of poetry. So our random acts will continue to spread through the week and, hopefully, other schools.

I also gave a copy of Tania Runyan’s How to Write a Poem to one of our teachers. Ms. Hearne in third grade won the drawing and says she will use it with her class. Yay!12112477_10206528920493707_1837883931268855796_n

And…yesterday, I was presented a copy of the Psalms, the poetry of the bible, by my new “family.” I was named the first Artist-In-Residence at A Church of the Holy Family, ECC in Aurora, CO. I am so grateful to know how Fr. Scott Jenkins, Kelsey, and Jennifer and all in my church community in their passion for Celtic Christianity honor the role of the bard.

My heart is full.

I love poetry. I hope you do, too!

Random Acts of Poetry Day

Today is the day!Random-Acts-of-Poetry-Day-2015-Free-Poster

Leave a poem on a mirror,
with chalk on a sidewalk,
in your love’s lunchbox.

Here’s one to share:

I will leave your white house and tranquil garden.
Let life be empty and bright.
You, and only you, I shall glorify in my poems,
As a woman has never been able to do.
And you remember the beloved
For whose eyes you created this paradise,
But I deal in rare commodities—
I sell your love and tenderness.

—Anna Akhmatova, translated by Judith Hemschemeyer

Thank you www.tweetspeakpoetry.com for your inspiration, always!

Crinkled Missives

In her hands a piece of paper becomes a bird,
not one that waits outside his morning window
nor the one in western sky drawing down evening sun.

In her hands parchment bends and folds
into lines of virgin litany, a new exhalation placed
beside crinkled missives no longer requisite.

He knows the beauty of her master work, delicate,
sure of their duty to make flight, lift his heartbeat
until it soars, he prays someday she will believe.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Today I play with first lines. At Every Day Poems the lovely people at Tweetspeak Poetry offer a challenge. Sign up to receive a poem in your in-box each morning. Find a line that sings to you and use it as the first line of a poem of your own design.

My inspiration this day comes from The Robot Scientist’s Daughter by Jeannine Hall Gailey.

Consecrated Welcome

On stepsnapofeature3
enfolded in night
under a moon
almost faded away
into nothingness
I listen

The roar
of Smoky Hill Road
rises and falls

Wind before the storm
swirls a balero
swayed branches
in spring burgeon

I wait
in stillness
not in chaos outside
but a hush within

I leave space
for you
not empty from
a holy goodbye

I open my ribs
deep in breath
a consecrated welcome

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 14

Today I combined, somewhat, the prompt of writing a dialogue between myself and my soul with the Every Day Poems‘ challenge of using a line from the daily poem that arrives in my inbox each morning.

Today’s line – a holy goodbye – is from the poem On Music by — Rainer Maria Rilke, from Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Robert Bly.

 

Gravity

I told you I didn’t want tonapofeature3
wear shoes, I can’t feel the
floor, I need to be grounded

You gentled me,
give up the gravity,
you promised I could fly

In trust I stepped tiptoe
lifting my heals
I gave up my ground, I let go

You were right
it wasn’t about the shoes
it was the gravity

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 13. I didn’t follow today’s prompt from the website.

Instead I was inspired by my favorite place to play, Tweetspeak Poetry and Every Day Poems.

Today my poem is drawn from the line – give up the gravity – from the poem Deep Noticing by Brenda Hillman, from Loose Sugar.

Experience

Brushstroke 2

the joke was funny,
my father, however, said it was blue
and warned me never to repeat it

in the fields where my grandfather
kept his bees on Mr. Granjeans farm,
cornflowers opened their eyes,
winked a welcome to his wild things
and relinquished their sweetness
lavishly

it crushed underneath my bare foot,
I felt it after it was too late, a few missteps
and damage was done, blueberry
plasma crushed into a virgin white wool rug,
my mother’s joy, just another false step
of mine in her aspiration for perfection

his phthalo blue applied with such
gentleness, brushed and slathered
across white canvas drew me spellbound
Saturday mornings,
learning from deep within
there are no mistakes,
just happy little accidents

periwinkle petals,
zaffer glazed eyes,
Dodger blue home runs,
denim enfolds me in comfort,
an indigo sigh shaped to my curves
soft, well-worn, experienced

.

.

.

Author’s Note:Im-a-poetry-chick-blue-glass

 

Oh, it’s National Poetry Month!!!!

Oh, the choices!

Today I am choosing my prompt from Tweetspeak’s
Show Us Your Poetry (Jeans)” challenge.

napofeature3

Tomorrow, who knows?

Just Peachy

Rolling down
worn wooden planks
the creamy coral orb
came to rest at my feet

Barely kissing my toes
cajoling me to pick it up
I surrendered
raising it to my lips

One should never allow
such cheek to go unanswered

.

.

.

Author’s Note:
I am playing today with inspiration from Tweetspeak Poetry and Every Day Poems. Today’s poem in my mail box was Inspiration by Kimberlee Conway Ireton, author of The Circle of Seasons. The challenge was to take something from this poem and make it mine. Ireton’s words “worn wooden planks” led me to my poem.

A Poetry Party

Last Thursday night I participated in a poetry writing party. It happened on Twitter and twenty-nine people participated in one form or another. It was sponsored by Tweet Speak Poetry and some amazing poets were present. I was humbled to be in their company.

The writing commenced on the hour with a prompt and each participant tweeted as inspiration well up in us. The creativity lasted for exactly an hour. I never thought I could last the entire time. I was afraid to start. But once I let go and realized how much fun it was, I didn’t want to stop.

The next step can be seen at Tweet Speak Poetry where the tweets from those participating have been woven into poems. And seeing these, I was again inspired.

Below you will see my original tweets in the order I wrote them over the hour.

The last piece below is my sculpting of my tweets into a “final” piece.

My Poetry Tweets As They Happened
I spring on heel wings on tips of blossoms
Shouting to be heard over the din of bursting blooms
She called my name over the ages and the stories told but never heard
And the little pink feathers laying one upon another make me smile
A key to open a lock rusted long ago
freeing my hand to turn, open the iced pink memories
savoring the lush, swallowing the sweet, gulping despair
Lost in want and waiting for the hummingbird
rushing towards a sunset of creamsicle smiles
make no more room than the space we fill with our delight
a daisy chain chained to eternity
it is not gone/it is there under the faded pink blanket throw away the pieces left, the mess/find my hand
sugared ice cracking off my face and hands reaching
a citrine sun burning our skin
smoothing their points, polishing to perfection
sapphires are for kings, lapis for emperors/give me sand to make a glass so clear I can see the stars
So take my hand and we will sing/walking with dragons/ dancing with Homer/ laughing in the blue
The actor will whisper the last words and we will stand
and laughing with Aphrodite
Release the dragon painted in pink forgetting the sugar frosted claws and lay down the tender lute
I like gravy with my biscuits.
Crumbs of simplicity tumble from my lips
.
.

Crumbs
I spring with heel wings
on tips of blossoms
shouting to be heard over
the din of bursting blooms

Lost in want
waiting for the hummingbird
savoring the lush
swallowing the sweet
gulping despair

She called my name over the ages
stories told but never heard
little pink feathers
laying one upon another

They are not gone
under the faded pink blanket
throw away the pieces
the mess
find my hand

Make no more room
than the space we fill
with our delight
a citrine sun burning our skin
rushing toward a creamsicle sunset
dancing with Homer
rejoicing in the blue

Sugared ice cracking
absolving hands reaching
a key to open a lock
rusted long ago
hands turning
freeing gentian memories

Sapphires are for kings
lapis for emperors
give me sand
I will fashion glass so clear
we can touch the stars
smoothing their points
polishing them to perfection

The actor will whisper the last words
and we will stand
a daisy chain chained to eternity
laughing with Aphrodite
crumbs of simplicity tumbling from our lips

You can also follow me @leximagines on Twitter.