Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? I had some plans for IBW for this month, but since I’ve been AWOL, they haven’t really happened. Tell me, how are you celebrating?
This would be a great time for anybody and everybody to submit poems here. I’m also going to share some of my own poetry this month. Since I missed the first two weeks of April, I’m going to try to share one everyday this week; otherwise, it’ll just be a couple times a week.
And, don’t forget that Thursday, April 24 is Poem in Your Pocket Day!
Anyways, here’s the first one.
Weedy Lots of Abandoned Sunflowers
By Seanna Lyn Wilhelm
Swallowing the sun
is like putting bathwater
into a brown paper bag.
You have to rise and dive under
as well as someone—Kiss Me
And Get Down—
who hears a squeak
across some filmy surface
of a mega-jumbo scorpion.
It has been attempted once before.
But like Humpty-Dumpty,
the Martian’s body and head
were all one—Are you listening?—
and he was unable to comprehend
his own folly. It was obvious to the
—I’m not scared of you—other creatures
that something as mighty
as the—But you should be of me—sun
would never consent to being
consumed by something so small and round.
My inspiration is always seaweed
in that—Listen to me—it slithers around
the crevices of my brain in a slick
embrace of mind boggling ideas.
I know that it will one day rip me
apart into various unseemly—Do it
but nothing else will satisfy me—You truly
know nothing of yourself—because
no idol, image, or anything
comparable to creation could ever capture
This poem was birthed in Dr. Tom Hunley‘s class in response to one of the poetry exercises that are in his book, The Poetry Gymnasium. Said exercise involved a bag full of scraps of paper that Tom has accumulated over the years. Each scrap of paper has a word or phrase on it, and each student had to reach in the bag and grab a fistful as it was being passed around the room.
At first, I wasn’t so sure about the exercise because it is kind of complicated to take a bunch of random stuff and turn it into a coherent poem. The above poem is the result of much editing. If I remember correctly, the first draft was more gibberish than anything else.
And, like everything else, I’m still in the editing process with this poem. I’m rather fond of what I wound up creating, partly because I’ve never really written anything like it before. But, for that same reason, I’m not so sure about it. Especially the parts in italics. Thoughts?