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In yesterday’s blogpost here at OctPoWriMo, MorganDragonwillow wrote brilliantly about how to write 31 poems in 31 days. Pure.
Simple. Direct and heartfelt, her wisdom flowed off the page.
Today, five days from the beginning of OctPoWriMo, I thought
it would be fun to dabble in some collaborative curiosity and actually write a
poem about what poetry is right here in the comments section.
I’ll kick it off and then you, beloved poet friends, take
the podium starting with…
Poetry is…
Poetry is a moment in time, held, for as long as you want to
- and shared with the world when you hit publish or post or send it off to be
bound or made into a greeting card or post it on a coffee shop bulletin board.
Poetry is not a competitive sport, a task on the to-do list,
an assignment you forgot to finish for the class you need to graduate.
Poetry is an opportunity to finish what you started.
Poetry is….
Your turn - in the comments tell us your take on what poetry
is… starting with…
Poetry is.....
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Posts
Poetry is life, a window on memory, a compulsion to create, a ball of dancing words, a means of communication.
ReplyDeleteSnap snap snap snap snap.... yes!
Delete"...a ball of dancing words..." Love
DeletePoetry is . . . noticing that curled leaf no longer green just outside my window, this morning's call of Canada geese flying south before winter begins,
ReplyDeleteSnap snap snap honk honkety honk of the geese. Love the vividness this evokes in me. THANK YOU!
Delete"...noticing that curled leaf no longer green..." Love
DeletePoetry is . . . the small breath as you make a wish on a fallen eyelash, a sliver in your skin that wells one fat drop of blood, the slow thump at your temple when you sit, eyes closed, and breathe words.
ReplyDelete"...wish on a fallen eyelash..." Love
DeleteThank you!
DeleteThank you Julie.
ReplyDeletePoetry is... playing with your words until you breathe life into them.
Poetry is... a few more words after it feels like there is no breath left.
DeletePoetry is... my grandson, playing behind me, ten minutes at the keyboard at the most.
Poetry is.... a fifty year old children's chair still rocking, still singing, still giving joy.
Anyone else care to add a line of poetry here? This thread won't close - and each of your words, and your presence, is gratefully received. Big happy poetic kisses and hugs + word-love!
ReplyDeletePoetry is the main confidant in which I share my secrets and my true feelings on paper never to be revealed until I choose to do so. - Leslye
ReplyDeletePoetry is the wind whispering in tree's leavings, brushing kisses on faces of drooping lilies and dancing with my soul.
ReplyDeletePoetry is my son's laughter high pitched and pregnant with joy.
ReplyDeletePoetry is sand in my eye while staring directly into the evening light.
Poetry is inhaling smells from this ole house made mine by a few complicated signature lines.
Poetry is because I am.