solo

Well, it's the end of April and the end of RePoWriMo. Hope you had a good time and were entertained -- thanks for reading, commenting, and joining in!

See you next year . . . ?

mush

Tell me I'm not the only one who woke up at 5 a.m. to watch the Royal Wedding? Here's wishing them a long and happy partnership.

One from me, one from the Amazing D. aww.

mmm, melon

One from me, one from the Amazing D. Five words to write a poem around, randomly picked off the fridge: men, melon, chops, dog, and look:

and

(second line is "they eat like dogs")

three-fer

Three poems today. First me:

and now Baseball R, a special guest post:

and finally, the Amazing D:

conciliatoriness

Walking home tonight, the fog enveloped everything. It looked just like it did in this post, from 2 years ago.

And sorry about no-post yesterday! But you get two today, one from me and one from the Amazing D, plus a bonus picture. So great!

The Amazing D picked 5 words at random from the fridge for me to use in the poem: champagne, mother, see, chain, like. And here's the result:

and here's one that the Amazing D has perfected:

and here's my muse, hard at work!

ghosts

I am not sure this is entirely legible. Here's a translation:

yesterday our ship found the haunting
no sky at the top of a swell
and no sun
but prisoners
slumped on the sea's wake
legs smeared green with old ocean
breathing work chants
coats rusty with salt spray
eyes red & mad angry & broken
our blood was ice
perhaps we are not yet them

thaw

I wonder how different the subject matter of these poems would be if Poetry Month was in, say, August instead of April?

bittersweet symphony

awww

It's been a long couple of days. I promise to get back on the RePo train tomorrow! In the meantime, another guest post by the ever-Amazing D.

wander

double trouble

Not one, but two guest posts today: one from Robot J and one from the Amazing D. Lucky us!

First, Robot J:

And now, the Amazing D:

don't mess

sevenling

I came across a new poem form recently, the sevenling. Roddy Lumsen , a contemporary Scottish poet, invented it. As the name suggests, it's made up of seven lines: three stanzas, the first and second stanza with three lines, and the third stanza with only one. Stanzas 1 and 2 should each contain "an element of three" -- statements, descriptions, etc. -- and Stanzas 1 and 2 do not have to relate to each other. Stanza 3 comments on the rest of the poem.

This Wikipedia entry has a wonderful poem by the Russian poet Anna Akhmatova that apparently inspired Roddy to make it a set form.

I gave it shot. The last line's not right, but that's all I've got right now.

It's a fun exercise -- give it a try, and post yours in the comments!

unseasonable woe

Another group project with the Amazing D and this time the French kit. Here's a translation of what it's supposed to mean:

I shiver in the rain
the wind still snows
my wet skin
sun is never with us
the raw wind has me crying
this stupid week!
if only it was warm
that's not okay
I need a bath by the fire
why autumn?

at least today is gorgeous

"dark shower," a guest post by the Amazing D!

K.D.

collaborative activity

So the Amazing D and I wrote a poem together, each of us taking a turn writing a line. It was fun! We made heavy use of the detective kit.

The tiles are pretty tiny in the photo to get them all in, so here's a transliteration. Think it needs a part 2?

we got some blow from somebody with translucent yellow skin
nothing like a femme fatale near killed by smoke
his giggle created a shiver across my neck
perhaps a needle? he says all business devouring a pie
we are delirious to be in this alley
it smells like small time preachers shooting up
she whispered I want to get free of this repulsive hole
my gun blazed & red sprays on the street
no compromise for me and honey we go
I love our dirty life we are fast and loaded like poison
we make tracks away into the night we dance

virtual RePo, now available!

Many thanks to Elizabeth, who discovered this and posted about it on her blog.

There are online refrigerator poetry magnet tiles that you can make poems with, here. How exciting! Now anyone can play!

Give a whirl and let us know how it went!

forsythia

Kerouac in the tub

and a bonus! Portrait of the artist, searching for the right word:

Haiku

For Christmas, I got a set of Haikubes, which are word blocks you roll and create a haiku out of. You also roll for the theme of your poem. The haiku structure is 3 lines of 5 syllables/7 syllables/5 syllables.

Refrigerator poetry is much easier! I don't do so well being directed, but it is interesting. Here's my fabulous creation:

Want to play? Same theme: "a vision for my future." Here are the blocks; I hope you can read them!

Have fun!

silver lining

(The Amazing D thought the title should be "fool falls, I get a wad," also using the magnets, but I declined.)

company

After the wonderful poem that is Cynthia Zarin's, we're back to the refrigerator magnet ones. Good thing some beings are nonjudgmental.

Late Poem

Haven't done my poem yet today, so while you wait, here's a lovely one by Cynthia Zarin, courtesy of Knopf Poetry, which sends out a poem a day in April. Epigraph by Vladimir Nabokov's Ada, or Ardor.

Late Poem

" . . . a matter of changing a slide in a magic lantern."


I wish we were Indians and ate foie gras
and drove a gas-guzzler
and never wore seat belts

I'd have a baby, yours, cette fois,
and I'd smoke Parliaments
and we'd drink our way through the winter

in spring the baby would laugh at the moon
who is her father and her mother who is his pool
and we'd walk backwards and forwards

in lizard-skin cowboy boots
and read Gilgamesh and Tintin aloud
I'd wear only leather or feathers

plucked from endangered birds and silk
from exploited silkworms
we'd read The Economist

it would be before and after the internet
I'd send you letters by carrier pigeons
who would only fly from one window

to another in our drafty, gigantic house
with twenty-three uninsulated windows
and the dog would be always be

off his leash and always
find his way home as we will one day
and we'd feed small children

peanut butter and coffee in their milk
and I'd keep my hand glued under your belt
even while driving and cooking

and no one would have our number
except I would have yours where I've kept it
carved on the sole of my stiletto

which I would always wear when we walked
in the frozen and dusty wood
and we would keep warm by bickering

and falling into bed perpetually and
entirely unsafely as all the best things are
—your skin and my breath on it.

the thing with feathers

Computer issues, grr, hence the late post today. I swear, the poem was done hours ago!

for the northerners among us

say it ain't so, Joe

appetites

The Amazing D is on a roll, so here's another double post. Can you tell whose poem is whose?

CSI

(the second word in that short line is "pursuit")

and on a lighter note, the Amazing D was inspired today as well:

ooh, breezy

Happy Poetry Month! Here's to words for all, in various arrangements. If you don't have poetry magnets and want to play along, you could cut out words from magazines and stuff and still get the random chance, which is the fun part. We had to repaint our fridge because the magnets made it rust so badly.

And without further ado, here's the RePo for the day:

The Amazing D had no idea what this poem is about, unusually for him. Do you? Maybe I am out of practice. If you are baffled, ask in the comments and I will reveal all, so to speak.

spring is sprung

... and, after a period of hibernation not unlike winter, so is this blog.

I'm back! Refrigerator poetry for all! Come April 1st -- dust off those magnets and clear off your fridge for another month of creating a poem a day. I'll be posting mine here; you can, too, or post them to your own blog and link.

And here's just a warm-up to get you in the mood: