If
you were to take a verbal Rorschach test, and were asked what you think of
when you hear the word “return,” what would come to your mind? I suggest that
you write a list before you read further.
Would you think of when
your father returned from Vietnam? When you returned from Iraq or Afghanistan,
or from a trip with your children to Disneyland or the Grand Canyon? When your
grandmother returned from the cemetery after putting flowers on her parents’
graves, or from the ice cream shop with chocolate all over her face?
Do
you think of the returns (or lack of returns) on your investments? Tax returns?
The train returning to the station? Your grandchildren returning from the park?
The birthday greeting, “many happy returns of the day”? Birds or animals
returning in the spring? A return ticket? Homecoming? Election returns? A second
bout of cancer or pneumonia? The return of Jesus expected by Christians? The Return of the Native, Ahab’s Return, or another book or movie?
Liberated prisoners or refugees returning home? Returning to school after
vacation—or after a hiatus?
As
you can see, the word “return” opens up a wealth of ideas for poets (and other
writers).
John
Lehman’s title, “Returning,” has a double meaning:
Returning
I
twist in sleep
as
children crawl
from
beds and bump
down
stairs
for
a drink of water.
If
I hear and pretend
I
don't
they
return
and
with a finger poke
my
back whispering
"We
are back."
I
have seen them downstairs,
they
go from one room
to
the next
or
only stand awhile,
then
return.
Sometimes
they climb in
my
bed
and
squirm until I sigh
"Enough--go
sleep in
your
bed,"
then
dream (for years
are
heavy covers)
of
being a child
myself
again.
~ John Lehman
From The Shrine of the
Tooth Fairy (Cambridge Book Review Press, 1998), p. 37.
I could hear those little feet padding down the hall—and with
the poet, find my resulting dreams returning me to childhood as I sleep. It was
the metaphor of the years as “heavy covers” that really made the poem for me.
Mary Jo Balistreri writes about another kind of return in
this poignant poem about her father:
Angel
Flying Too Close To The Ground
Today he gets a flu shot. Picks up a sliver
in his finger at the clinic. He’s angry
at the
nurse for taking too much blood.
A
person only has so much.
He washes a few dishes in a sink heavy with suds,
the flash of his yellow gloves in and out of bubbles
like a canary at its bath. He takes this chore seriously,
does not notice or care that water runs down
the cabinets and splashes onto the floor.
Risen from the dead of a sub-dural hematoma, he is
a handful, this eighty-nine-year-old father.
Shiny-eyed with the unexpected gift of second sight,
he craves independence, dislikes being questioned,
becomes cagey and stubborn, and moves beyond
beyond his ability; his unused legs teeter toward disaster.
In the slant of late afternoon sun, I sit at the table
and ponder the turn of events. I think of Martha and Mary,
wonder how they coped with Lazarus newly emerged
from the tomb. Were they, too, stunned into disbelief,
that he had come back the same, but somehow different?
Evening, and he curls up in his lounge chair, dinner napkin
clutched
in his hand like a small stuffed animal. Willy Nelson sings
in the background; his closed eyelids flutter like wings.
On a night like this did Mary sigh, look upon her brother
like I look upon my father, and say to Martha,
Look
how tender, how soundly he sleeps.
~ Mary Jo Balistreri
From Still
(FutureCycle Press, 2018), p. 65.
How tenderly the poet looks on her father, in all his
stubbornness and his insistence on being more independent that his physical
condition justifies. Looking now at her father who has survived a
near-death episode, the poet gets just a glimpse of what it might have been
like for Mary and Martha when their brother was resurrected after three days in
the Bible Story she has heard many times. Lazarus returns but, the poet suggests, he
is changed, as her father has changed. The tenderness of the poem and the
questioning look at the Scripture story give this poem much depth.
The July
Challenge:
The
prompt for July is the word “return,” in any of its forms, as noun, verb or
adjective. Be creative take the prompt in a unique direction if you can.
Your
poem may be free verse or formal. If you use a form, please identify the form
when you submit your poem.
Title
your poem unless it is a form that does not use titles. Single-space. Note that
the blog format does not accommodate long lines; if they are used, they have to
be broken in two, with the second part indented (as in the poem “Lilith,” one
of the November 2018 winners). Read previous poems on the blog to see what line
lengths can be accommodated.
You
may submit a published poem if you retain
copyright, but please include publication data. This applies to poems
published in books, journals, newspapers, or on the Internet.
The
deadline is July 15. Poems submitted after the deadline
will not be considered. There is no charge to enter, so there are no monetary
rewards; however, winners are published on this blog. Please don’t stray too
far from “family-friendly” language (some children and teens read this blog).
No simultaneous submissions, please. You should know by the end of the month
whether or not your poem will be published. Decision of the judge or judges is
final.
The
poet retains copyright on each poem. If a previously unpublished poem wins and
is published elsewhere later, please give credit to this blog. I do not
register copyright with the US copyright office, but by US law, the copyright
belongs to the writer unless the writer assigns it to someone else.
If
the same poet wins three months in a row (which has not happened thus far), he
or she will be asked not to submit the following two months.
How to
Submit Your Poem:
Send one poem only to
wildamorris[at]ameritech[dot]net (substitute the @ sign for “at” and a . for
“dot”). Put “July Poetry Challenge
Submission” in the subject line of your email. Include a brief bio that can be printed with your poem if you are a
winner this month. Please put your name
and bio UNDER the poem in your email. If the poem has been published
before, please put that information UNDER the poem also. NOTE: If you sent your poem to my other email
address, or do not use the correct subject line, the poem may get lost and not
be considered for publication.
Submission
of a poem gives permission for the poem to be posted on the blog if it is a
winner, so be sure that you put your name (exactly as you would like it to
appear if you do win) at the end of
the poem.
Poems
may be pasted into an email or sent as an attachment (Doc, Docx, rich text or
plain text; no pdf files, please). Please
do not indent the poem or center it on the page. It helps if you submit the poem in the format used on the blog (Title
and poem left-justified; title in bold (not all in capital letters); your name
at the bottom of the poem). Also, please do not use multiple spaces instead of
commas in the middle of lines. I have no problem with poets using that
technique (I sometimes do it myself). However I have difficulty getting the
blog to accept and maintain extra spaces.
Poems
shorter than 40 lines are generally preferred but longer poems will be
considered.
Bios:
Mary Jo Balistreri began her creative life in music.
Growing up in a musical household where both grandparents were professional
musicians, her father a popular radio singer, and her mother a tap-dancing
professional, it was as if she breathed music. When in 2005 her 7-year-old grandson,
Sam, died, it changed her life. For the first time, music did not help her
transcend the loss. She found herself trying to learn the music of words. She
has been writing ever since.
She has two
poetry books published by Bellowing
Ark Press, Joy in the Morning,
and gathering the harvest; a
chapbook, Best Brothers by Tiger’s
Eye Press, and her latest book of poetry, Still published by Future Cycle Press, 2018.
John Lehman is the founder and original publisher
of Rosebud, a
national magazine of short stories, poetry and illustration and literary editor of Wisconsin People & Ideas as
well as managing partner of Zelda Wilde Publishing He also founded the
Prairie Fire Poetry Quartet which includes Shoshauna Shy, Robin Chapman,
Richard Roe and John Lehman and an interactive website called www.coolplums.com. Dramatic readings of his plays,
A Brief History of My Tattoo, The Jane Test and The Writer’s Cave have
been presented in Milwaukee and Madison.
John
Lehman’s collections of poetry include Acting
Lessons, Shrine
of the Tooth Fairy, Dogs
Dream of Running, and Shorts: 101 Brief Poems of Wonder and Surprise. His
latest nonfiction books are America’s
Greatest Unknown Poet: Lorine Niedecker Reminiscences, Photographs Letters and
Her Most Memorable Poems, and Everything is Changing: How to Gain
Loyal Customers and Clients Quickly. He publishes short
stories under the name Jack Lehman.
Lehman
grew up in Chicago but for two decades has lived with his wife,
Talia Schorr, their four dogs and six cats in Rockdale, the smallest
incorporated village in Wisconsin.
©
Wilda Morris
