Friday Original Poem

Little Garlic River Waterfall

This poem was born out of my poetry therapy homework. First we were given the first lines of the poem below I,I by Yosano Akikio which was first published in the inaugural issue of the feminist magazine Seito in September 1919. Then we after reading the poem we sat with it and asked questions like : What will move my mountains? Are there obstacles I want to overcome? Or who do I want to be? Who am I?

So for me it wasn't mountains I identified with but water. I encourage you to write your own version even use some of Akiko's phrases to get going and see what happens.


I,I
By Yosano Akiko

The day the mountains move has come.
Or so I say, though no one will believe me.
The mountains were merely asleep for awhile.
But in ages past, the had moved, as if they were on fire.
If you don't believe me, that's fine with me.
All I ask is that you believe this and only this,
That at this very moment,
women are awakening from their deep slumber.

If I could but write entirely in the first person,
I, who am a woman.
If I could writer entirely in the first person,
I,I.


I,I
By Regina Gort

The day has come that the Little Garlic River will overflow,
taking in the sandy banks, swallowing the surrounding land,
when it will merge with Lake Superior as one.
Or so I say and no one will beleive me.

The river has been steadfast to its sandstone ravines
to its rock riverbed where it passed gently along.
And now the rains are plentiful, abundant and fierce.
A persistent downpour of clarity that stirs the river's desire
To be whole and overflowing.

All I ask is that you believe this and only this,
that at this very moment I am awaking.
I, who am mighty
I, who am whole
I, who am one with river, with rock, with rain and with Lake
I, who overflows
I,I.

Make it Possible

Today's poem by Wisława Szymborska just begs for a response. After you read it, pick out the lines that resonate with you. Then using the start "I prefer" take 5 or 10 minutes and write your own version. You may find a new possibility. And that's what makes a Monday an even better Monday.

Possibilities 

I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.

Blog Hop Friday

Celebrating the small things this Friday.

Regina:

1. Attended a Poetry Therapy Session with Nessa McCasey

2. Started drafts to submit to the William Stafford Anthology

3. Had a date night with her husband on a Tuesday 

Juliet had an all-star week:

1. Attended her first class on the topic of historical fiction writing with Mort Castle.

2. Booked a hotel room for a weekend writing workshop through SCBWI-IL with heavy-hitters, Linda Sue Park and Julia Durango.

3. Had lunch with two of her favorite "rock star girlfriends."  (All of her girlfriends are rock stars but Nora actually IS a rock star and Laura is one of her favorite writers.) 

Being Gentle with Myself

Before my family moved to the country, I was involved with a poetry therapy group. This is just one of the many poems and experiences I had. It is a poem that I like to bring out when I am feeling overwhelmed or inadequate.

Our facilitator, Nessa McCasey, gave us a poem by Leonard Nathan entitled So? It is a poem about accepting who you are not and who you will never become but also about who you are. We were encouraged to write our own version by following the format of his poem.

It is admittance of your weaknesses, the shortcomings that you have imposed on yourself. But also the acceptance of your strengths. And it was liberating. I encourage you to do the same. Who have you always aspired to be? What have you hoped to do but know it is impossible? By writing my version of this poem, I let go some of those dreams and accepted who I am right now.


So?
Leonard Nathan

So you aren't Tolstoy or Saint Francis
or even a well-known singer
of popular songs
and will never read Greek
or speak French fluently,
will never see something no one else
has seen before through a lens
or with the naked eye.
You've been given just one life

in the world that matters

and upon which every other life
somehow depends as long as you live,
and also given the costly gifts of hunger,
choice, and pain with which to raise
a modest shrine of meaning.


So?
Regina Gort

So you aren't Jacques Cousteau or Mary Oliver
or even the Queen of England,
will probably never again read Tolstoy
or speak Japanese fluently.
You will never fly to the moon or
discover the missing link.
You have been given the ability to love
 and receive love.
And more than that you can look at yourself
straight in the eye and
honestly say that you matter.