I ran into Sara Hirsch last night at Poetry in Motion's April edition (April 3rd), which was a real joy, since I didn't know she was coming and didn't know she was yet in NZ.
I asked her about her writing and she said that she's doing NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month), which I'd never heard of. I did NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for years, and this is where the blog title came from. Google gave me this, which is just someone's blog. Still, lots of good info.
Simple rules - write a poem per day. There is no requirement for showing it to anyone, or anything like that, and no one ever has to see it ever, but you have your own satisfaction of creating something every day for a month.
I did this previously with a haiku a day (2013, July Haiku Challenge started here) , which extended for 3 months. I don't know why I stopped.
I'm a little behind, since it's supposed to be a poem a day and here we are on April 4th, but, as it turns out, Ken Arkind shared a haiku on facebook and I wrote several in response, so am basically caught up. Haha..
are just the best responses.
Limericks are cool too.
- not happy about putting a "just" in there. I would prefer to leave filler words out if possible. I'll have to re-work. Not that it's needed, but it irks me.
Ken then suggested that we do a haiku show, which I am completely keen for. My response:
The show should proceed.
I'm agreeing with you Ken.
But in haiku form.
Several lovely people posted great haikus, and I responded with:
I approve haikus.
These ones are some of the best.
Now, I need another for today. This is not a haiku a day, it's a poem a day. It just so happened that I did haikus for now. Today's piece. Based on something I wrote earlier:
When she was a little girl, Earth already had white hair
She put on her bare toes
And danced across every mountain range
Shuffled across every valley
Through ever riverbed, seashore and sandy beach
Splashed in all the waterfalls
Got muddy in river deltas
Cleaned off in thunderstorms and lashing rain
Kicked over glaciers and set icebergs afloat
Basques in the clean, clean air
Of the ocean breezes
Now, her hands wear gloves
Made of rainforest leaves, jungle vines
and and redwood bark.
She breaths in with the rising tide
And out with the gathering clouds
Her belly button fuzz is old-growth forest
Her cold flashes are Antarctic ice
Hot flashes - death valley and the Sahara
She's a little concerned about
The strange growth that's started spreading
It itches in New York, London and Mexico City
Delhi, Shanghai and Tokyo itch something fierce too
It will go away soon she thinks
Maybe another 20,000 or 30,000 years tops
And then she can relax