poem-a-day challenge: six words

Write a poem every day of April with the 2020 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. Write a six words poem.

For today’s prompt, write a poem that uses the following six words:
bump, embrace, fixture, howl, lonely, resolve

How did I come up with this list? Actually, it’s a tie-in to our Shakespeare Week that starts today, because the Bard is actually credited with inventing all six of these words. Pretty cool, eh? For sestina fans, I kind of intentionally made it six words for a reason. So let’s get writing!

(33 lamentable words coined by William Shakespeare.)

Remember: These prompts are just springboards; you have the freedom to jump in any direction you want. In other words, it’s more important to write a new poem than to stick to the prompt. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

six words

I remember believing
the struggles brought on
by your depression and anxiety
were, while serious,
just a bump we would have to get over
in raising you
to the happy and successful adulthood you would have.
To the life you would embrace
when you could leave behind the petty pedantry
of compulsory education
and learn what you wanted to learn
and do what you wanted to do
create what you wanted to create
beholden to no one.

But the dark clouds
became a fixture
and your increasing discomfort
a howl, as they blocked out the moon
until there was no light at all
and you, lonely in the blackness
lost hope
even as we
with parental resolve unrelenting
and a love beyond explanation
tried to reach you.
Our every effort still failed
to illuminate the solitary place
in which you found yourself trapped.

In the end it didn’t matter what I believed,
what I still believe:
that you would somehow have found comfort
and ease
and satisfaction,
a life worth living,

if you could have held on.

When I read Robert Lee Brewer’s initial direction of writing a six-words poem, at first I thought of the idea of six-word stories. This poem was going to be pretty fast and easy (and short)! But then I clicked through and read the real instructions. Hmmm, it would likely be much harder than I thought.

After I worked the first two words into the poem, and realized they were in the order presented, I challenged myself to include the other four words also sequentially — not a requirement, but something I wanted to see if I could do.

The title, six words, obviously refers to the prompt. But I’ve also included my six-word story as the last line.

poem-a-day: hark, the opuntia

After today’s poem, we’ll be 60 percent of the way through this challenge. If you’ve made it this far, you’ve got a better than 60 percent chance of making it to the finish line. In my case, I know not every day has been pretty, but I’ve got up and poemed—and that alone is something. So let’s keep at it.

For today’s prompt, write a message poem. You can decide the medium: Message in a bottle, postcard, or voice mail. Of course, there are text messages, telegrams, and letters. My wife loves to leave me messages on Post-It notes (and I love to find them). So write a message in a poem today!

Remember: These prompts are just springboards; you have the freedom to jump in any direction you want. In other words, it’s more important to write a new poem than to stick to the prompt. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

Message of the prickly pear

I have some neighbors
a couple streets over.

I don’t know them,
haven’t even seen them;
I just pass by their house sometimes,
sun hat on, earphones in,
on my way to 10,000 steps.

They have two prickly-pear cacti planted in the ground:
one at the foot of their mailbox
and one in a raised bed by the sidewalk.

Three times when I have walked by,
there have been broken-off paddles of cactus
just lying there,
and gingerly I picked them up
and brought them home*
and planted them in pots,
so now I have prickly-pear cacti as well
(although mine overwinter inside).

When I went by last week,
and saw theirs were bursting with new buds
and tiny burgeoning lobes,
I heard the message of the prickly pear:

“Seize the day!
When conditions are favorable,
GROW!”

And so I transplanted my three
together in a new pot
and brought them outside for the summer
because now is their time.

And I hope
my time is coming.

For everything you ever wanted to know about prickly pears, try opuntiads.com!

ready to grow again!

last year's growth

overwintering inside

* I brought the first little lobe home in my pocket. Don’t do that! Even if they don’t look very prickly, they are.

Our recent transplanting adventure was a logistical challenge. How to get the big ones out of the pot they were in and into the new pot without getting ourselves stuck by bundles of tiny spines? In the end, we used a variety of garden implements and managed to hurt neither ourselves nor the opuntiads.

poem-a-day exotic species: orba parente

For today’s prompt, write an exotic poem. Set your poem in an exotic locale. Or maybe write about an exotic person, animal, or technology. And remember that your everyday things may be exotic to someone else. Honestly, I’ve found poets are a breed of exotic creature whenever I’m in a room full of “normal” adults. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

orba parente

the bereaved parent is an exotic species,
the sighting of which is prone to provoke
barely concealed gawking
and furtive whispering

having lost a child
is as if one were a dangerous creature
on exhibit at the zoo
where everyone wants to see
but no one wants to get too close

because who knows what might happen
best keep your distance
and hope that I am
a mere curiosity you can forget about
tomorrow

Forgive the poorly translated Latin title; I’ve never studied Latin, so I had to just plug “bereaved parent” into an online translator to try and achieve the effect of a species’ scientific name. I think “orba” has something to do with the root of the word “orphan,” and since there’s not an English word for a parent who has lost a child (the way orphan describes having lost one’s parents) the idea of it being applied in reverse resonated with me.

poem-a-day challenge: dream breakdown

Once we get through today’s poem, we’ll be half of the way through this challenge. Cue the Bon Jovi. And let’s jump in to this prompt.

For today’s prompt, write a dream poem. The poem can be a remembered dream. Or it could be a dream about the future (like getting out and about without worry again). Of course, some dreams are good, but there are nightmares too. So let’s get dreamy with our poems today. After all, Blondie said it best: “Dreaming is free.” — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

Your vast imagination
— which conceived fantastical worlds
and elaborate play scenarios
practically from infancy

and resulted in the creation of
innumerable board games
live action playground games
computer and video games*,
worlds in Minecraft
YouTube videos
musical projects,
more ideas than you had time to bring to fruition —

ultimately failed you
when you could not dream of a world
in which your life would have meaning
and bring joy, not suffering.

Just once, you were terribly wrong.

poetry month: all-purpose

For today’s prompt, write a purpose poem. Many people like to have a purpose in life. Some folks do things on purpose. And yes, sometimes it appears there is no purpose to life’s events. Whatever drives you, I hope you’re able to pair purpose (or lack of purpose) with your poetry today.

Remember: These prompts are just springboards; you have the freedom to jump in any direction you want. In other words, it’s more important to write a new poem than to stick to the prompt. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

All-purpose

On my kitchen counter
sit two Mason jars:
one old pint; one new quart

each filled with a mysterious mixture
of flour, water, and magic

which both

seems to require rather careful tending
— the new one, a gift from a girlfriend
exploring baking as a hobby
while she’s working from home —

and

is remarkably tolerant of neglect —

at least the latter is my hope
as I stir and measure and will into new life
the long-forgotten sourdough starter
that’s been patiently waiting
in its pint jar at the back of my fridge.

Every time I told my husband,
a brewer of beer,
that I might throw it out,
his response was that yeast is an enigma
and it might not be quite dead

So I saved it for a day
that turns out to be today,
fed it some all-purpose flour
and a generous helping of well wishes

and in a week or two
of attentive nurturing,
if the gods of fermentation smile upon me,
the old starter will thrive
beside the new,

restored to its purpose.

national poetry month kicks off — it's a new world

poster from poets.org by student poster contest winner Samantha Aikman, based on the poem “Remember” by U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo

April is National Poetry Month! This gorgeous commemorative poster is from poets.org by student poster contest winner Samantha Aikman, based on the poem “Remember” by U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo.
✏️
So 2020 will be my third year celebrating by writing a poem a day based on prompts from Robert Lee Brewer, senior editor with Writer's Digest. Today’s prompt was to write a new world poem.
✏️
Trees burst into leaf
Seemingly overnight
At the very moment of the equinox
Early on the calendar because of leap year
•
Birds are singing their heads off
Building nests
Including in places we don’t want them
Laying eggs there in the bush by the front doorway
Did I scare them away when I got a step stool and looked in the nest?
I didn’t mean for them to abandon their eggs
I could have used a different door
To leave the house for a while
It’s not as if I’m leaving the house much
Anyway
•
Parts of nature are
Proceeding as usual
And then parts of nature
Are doing things they’ve never done
And I don’t know how to feel about it
And I don’t know what to do about it
•
So I stay home
And I wash hands
And I sew masks
And I try not to dwell
On the fact that every day
My other half
Goes to his “essential” job
Where some days he’s at his office
Mostly seeing patients by telehealth,
But others, like today, he’s at the hospital
And we are pretty sure
That one day, maybe even today,
He’ll come home with this virus
And I’ll get it too
•
So we don’t see our moms
And our kid stays away at school
And we hope for the best
•
And in some ways I wish
That we could just have it and get it over with,
But it might hit us hard
Even though we are youngish and healthy
•
The world has never seen this before
And you just never know
•
You never know
❤️
💙
💛

Also I wanted to add that the "new world poem" prompt made me think of a song I love by Cass Elliot of the Mamas and the Papas. It's a song that feels very optimistic to me. Check it out here. And while I was looking for that, I found a version from a year later by Nina Simone, still beautiful, but much more apocalyptic in tone. Do yourself a favor and listen to both. Which resonates more with you?