Or some such. I missed all my writing deadlines yesterday. I was mentally exhausted and all I could do all evening was fall asleep over my notebook, then fall asleep over my computer and finally just fall asleep. I didn’t even register until this morning that I hadn’t actually finished the poem I was working on, that I hadn’t posted anything. Clearly, my body needed sleep more than I needed to play at being a poet. I can accept that.
Really, I can … but I also didn’t want to be two poems behind for the month. I still haven’t made up the poem I didn’t write on day one! So tonight I have two poems. Which means I’ve proved to myself that I actually can write two in one day, so I should be able to fully catch up before the end of the month … or, it means that I’ve exhausted my two-poems-in-a-day capability and this will be a 29/30 month. We’ll all just have to wait and see!
All the Difference Never imagined a future, not a real one. How do you dream hard enough to reveal one? Forever choosing the wrong fork in the road – never the wise path but the safe, even-keel one. Time and again the heart chooses unwisely, each lover presented himself the ideal one. Each than another proved so much less than desired – wounds and deceipts and a heart cold as a steel one. And I, Stacie, tire of being the genteel one. Bare both teeth and claws when I ought to conceal one.
I won’t go so far as to say I’m crazy about that poem, but I have amused myself by using “genteel” and by using it as a descriptor for myself. And ghazal the second:
Saturated Even on the calmest day, I'm caught in the storm . Chaos swirling all the time, caught in the storm. Try meditation, some soulful deep breathing Always a hill too high to climb – caught in the storm. Every moment is fraught, tensions running high. Not a single day of downtime. Caught in the storm. But these are lies – sort of lies – it’s all my own making. Over-scheduling’s the crime, caught in the storm. I, crazed spinner, dream a day of silent stillness from dawn ‘til the last hour’s chime (sigh) caught in the storm
National Poetry Month 2022: the Ghazal
As I’ve done for more than ten years (what?!), I’ve chosen a poetic form, and I’m going to try to write a poem in that form every day for the month of April … and I’m saying that boldly, knowing that I’ve already failed. I couldn’t find my way through to a poem on Day One, but I’m determined to continue.
The “Ghazal” is the form I’ve chosen for this year. Here is the structure and a little backstory (thank you Poetry Foundation):
“Originally an Arabic verse form dealing with loss and romantic love, medieval Persian poets embraced the ghazal, eventually making it their own. Consisting of syntactically and grammatically complete couplets, the form also has an intricate rhyme scheme. Each couplet ends on the same word or phrase (the radif), and is preceded by the couplet’s rhyming word (the qafia, which appears twice in the first couplet). The last couplet includes a proper name, often of the poet’s. In the Persian tradition, each couplet was of the same meter and length, and the subject matter included both erotic longing and religious belief or mysticism.”
Should be interesting!