Tuesday, May 5, 2015

A Poem A Day Till the Start of May

In response to the challenge of writing a poem a day for every day of National Poetry Month, I know at least three Ohio poets who took the on challenge, and shared their poems to the web (who knows how many others did a poem a day, but didn't share them with the internet?). Over at Smith & Lady's blog "Walking on Thin Ice," Kathy Smith-- aka "Lady"-- has posted her poem a day, starting with "Sunlight plays serenade":

April Poetry Month Poem – #1

Sunlight plays serenade
wealth of land cries mead song
like Starland Vocal Band Afternoon Delight,
honeybirds on powerflowers, acanthus leaf
on corinthian column, splay of lay like spread
of Andrés Segovia Kama Sutra my thumb toe
peeking from bloom of rust dress like Psyche
and you Cupid come of age fat arms
plush in calligraphic detail
~ Lady

Two more northeast Ohio poets have been using Facebook for chronicling their April poem-a-day:
Marcus Bales, starting with a bit of Frost, "Stopping By A Phone for the Silent Treatment":

Stopping By A Phone for the Silent Treatment

for Norman Ball

Whose call this is I think I know --
she’s staying with her mother, though.
She calls in silence like a swan
across the city, through the snow.

She hates to waste her silence on
an empty room so, having gone,
she calls to let me hear her say
the naught from which she won't be drawn.

The only sound I hear’s the grey
and empty hollowness of stray
electrons that the lines endow
with hiss that softly leaks away

I listen to her disavow
in silence silence, yet, somehow
still ask if I am sorry now,
still ask if I am sorry now.
--Marcus Bales

And Steve Brightman has been doing a poem a day for several years now (!), posting one a day to his facebook notes.  His 30 poems for April started with "Unsuccessful Touchscreen" on April 1:

Unsuccessful Touchscreen

one screen
goes dark
and your panic
is a dry-lipped search.
you upend the world.
you become
last lighthouse.
you fail miserably.
Every flat surface
becomes unsuccessful
Windows are useless,
serve no purpose
unless you want to see
the world happening
while you panic.

--Steve Brightman

Anybody know any more?  


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The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau