July 2012 Poetry Challenge

Erica Lehrer, who is pictured above, majored in English at Princeton University, and then earned a J.D. from the School of Law at New York University. After practicing law a few years, she decided her true calling was as a writer.

Her life took another turn when she began experiencing various physical difficulties.The eventual diagnosis: Multiple Symptom Atrophy. This neurodegenerative disease, is a rare form of Ataxia that impacts coordination and even speech.

With a great spirit, uncommon courage and the support of her family and friends, Erica continued to write poetry and to travel to San Miguel de Allende, Guantanamo, Mexico, to attend the San Miguel Poetry Workshop, where many of her poems were work-shopped. She published a collection of poetry, Dancing with Ataxia (To purchase the book, click here: http://www.amazon.com/Dancing-Ataxia-Erica-Lehrer/dp/0615509959/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1341111389&sr=1-1&keywords=Dancing+with+Ataxia). Profits from sale of the book go to the National Ataxia Foundation and the Neuroscience Institute at Princeton University.

Here is the last poem in Dancing with Ataxia:

MY METAPHOR IS SHRINKING

      For Tony Hoagland

Initially, nearly imperceptibly.
Then, more noticeably. I thought,
at first, I was imagining it
because no one took me seriously
or seemed particularly alarmed.
The instruments used to detect
such changes were not calibrated
to pick up subtle differences
caused by metaphoric degeneration
or neurons misfiring.

And if my metaphor were shrinking,
what hope was there for my simile?
I soon found that I could no longer
walk in beauty like the night.
In fact, I could barely walk at all!
Nor were my nights black as pitch;
they were merely black, terrifying, endless.
Morning fog ceased to arrive on little cat feet.
It just came, without mystery or grace, filling
the interstices of my brain, obscuring my vision.

As there is no cure for my malady, I imagine
imagining my way out of it, sprouting wings,
flying skyward on a day gleaming with possibilities
over turquoise waterways—climbing up, up,
up, until the Earth is a gumball.

I am unstoppable.

~ Erica Lehrer

From Dancing with Ataxia (2011), p. 71.

John Rupe, a widower, found a new love. Dorinda, who had been widowed many years earlier, reciprocated his love. About the time he decided to ask her to marry him, he was diagnosed with leukemia, though it was in remission. The doctors told him he had only one or two years to live. John told Dorinda, who responded, “I’m too ornery to let you die that soon.”

John and Dorinda got married despite his diagnosis. Eventually the leukemia returned, and John lacked the resistance to fight off a case of flu. Dorinda’s life was turned upside down.

I know this story because Dorinda is my sister. I wrote the following poem about her response to John’s death.

THE SECOND COMING
      for Dorinda

John’s leukemia, long in remission
has returned and the doctors
speak of lung cancer,
platelet counts too low
for biopsy or chemotherapy.

She rebels against nature’s
hard strike, or was it
the hand of God?
How can you? she cries
to heaven, fate, no one
in particular.

Breeze whispers through trees
behind the back deck he built,
Raspberry vines tremble
at the weight of a wren.
Chipmunks gather grain
beneath the bird feeders
he set, digging deep
into Indiana soil.

And with the wind, hear
a sigh, her sigh, not so much
sorrow or resignation
but thanks: thanks
for these twenty-one years
since the doctor first said
leukemia, two years to live.

~ Wilda Morris

First published in Alive Now (June 20, 2005).

Poetry workshops:

You can learn more about the San Miguel Poetry week in January by clicking here: http://www.sanmiguelpoetry.com/

In August will be leading a workshop entitled “The Nature of Poetry and the Poetry of Nature,” at the Green Lake Conference Center in Wisconsin. The conference center has some scholarship funding for first-time participants in the Christian Writer’s Conference. Learn more about the conference by clicking here: http://glcc.org/Files/Conferences/2012%20Writers%20complete.pdf

July Poetry Challenge:

The poetry challenge for July is to write about response to a life event that seems to turn your world upside down. What is the challenge life has presented and how are you coping? Or perhaps you want to write about something faced by someone you love or have read about and the way they dealt with it.

You may write a formal poem or free verse. If formal, please specify the form. The deadline is 11:59 p.m. July 15. Poems submitted after the July 15 deadline will not be considered.

Copyright on poems is retained by their authors.

Poems published in books or on the Internet (including Facebook and other on-line social networks) are not eligible. If your poem has been published in a periodical, you may submit it if you retain copyright, but please include publication data.

How to Submit Your Poem

Send your poem to wildamorris[at]ameritech[dot]net (substitute the @ sign for “at” and a . for [dot]. Be sure provide your e-mail address. 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.

© 2012 Wilda Morris

June Poetry Challenge Winners

Congratulations to Sondy Sloan and Peggy Trojan, winners of the June Poetry Challenge.

Sloan’s poem, “The Red Chair” came with a photo illustration. I like the way the chair and its inhabitant are integrated throughout the poem. It is obvious that the poet (or persona) could not even think of the chair without thinking of her loved one who sits there, “askew” as is the chair. I especially like the first line of the last stanza, and the way the ending shows us the feelings of the poet (or persona) at which she has been hinting throughout.

The Red Chair

Swallowed by its size, you sit barefoot
In your chubby red chair, my gift to you
From Big Daddy’s Bargain Basement.
And like you, the cushions
Are askew, indelibly warped
To shape your life of sitting sidewise;
A habit made more frequent by age and arthritis.

I grieve the original figure of rich velvet hues:
Mahogany, gold and hunter green, misshapen, lumpy.
Its skin worn shiny where you rest your bones
Most. After decades together, you have grown akin. Knots
Knit awry on your knuckles, feet, elbows, knees.

Do you want me to get the cushions reshaped?
No, you respond, spreading your lips wide
With snaggle-tooth grin, hushing my fidgety hands
With yours. I like it this way.
It fits me, eh? And it does.

You are changing form—gnarled
Like a twisted old olive tree.
Bones crackle like kindling in the fireplace,
Muscles like shrunken jerky.
Teeth a little yellow, toenails, too.

I share you with your padded lodestone.
But you are mine, even there, sitting cock-a-hoop,
Budweiser in hand, warning off ancient aches.
I straighten pillows ‘round your dark and musky form.
You touch my face, coo in serene syllables,
Who loves you, sweetie?

And all our years run upriver.
I lean my lips hard into your shifting cheek-skin,
Tasting the salt of your silvered beard, soaking
In the smell of your soul,
Sinking into you, into the tender red chair.

~ Sondy Sloan

The second winning poem will probably resonate with many people. It brings to my mind many family gatherings, celebrating holidays, anniversaries and birthday around a table expanded by adding leaves. The description is good—I can almost see the table. The ending shows me a family, like mine, which gathers newcomers into its warm embrace.

Gathering Place

The table was old
when we bought it
in the seventies.
Queen Anne, mahogany,
paw feet and elegantly carved knees.
It shares the dining room
only with its matching buffet
and chairs.
Seats eight without leaves.
When everyone comes home
we extend it into the living room,
moving the coffee table
and wing chair,
so we can all sit together.
Year after year, it expands,
like love,
to all who come.

~ Peggy Trojan

Poets retain copyright on their poems.

Watch for a new poetry challenge in July. YOU might be the next winner!

Also: I'll be leading a workshop ("The Nature of Poetry and the Poetry of Nature") at the Green Lake Conference Center in Wisconsin, August 19-24. You can obtain more information about the conference at http://glcc.org/Files/Conferences/2012%20Writers%20complete.pdf. I would love to see you there!

© 2012 Wilda Morris

June 2012 Poetry Challenge - a Furniture Poem

Thomas Hardy wrote a poem about “old furniture” and the thoughts it inspired in his mind. I have a similar reaction as I pass by my mother’s china cabinet or rocking chair (which are now in my house), or visit an antique store.

The chair, in which Mother was sitting when the picture above was taken has its own interesting story. Maybe I'll write a poem about it this month.

Old Furniture

I know not how it may be with others
Who sit amid relics of householdry
That date from the days of their mothers' mothers,
But well I know how it is with me
Continually.

I see the hands of the generations
That owned each shiny familiar thing
In play on its knobs and indentations,
And with its ancient fashioning
Still dallying:

Hands behind hands, growing paler and paler,
As in a mirror a candle-flame
Shows images of itself, each frailer
As it recedes, though the eye may frame
Its shape the same.

On the clock's dull dial a foggy finger,
Moving to set the minutes right
With tentative touches that lift and linger
In the wont of a moth on a summer night,
Creeps to my sight.

On this old viol, too, fingers are dancing -
As whilom--just over the strings by the nut,
The tip of a bow receding, advancing
In airy quivers, as if it would cut
The plaintive gut.

And I see a face by that box for tinder,
Glowing forth in fits from the dark,
And fading again, as the linten cinder
Kindles to red at the flinty spark,
Or goes out stark.

Well, well. It is best to be up and doing,
The world has no use for one to-day
Who eyes things thus--no aim pursuing!
He should not continue in this stay,
But sink away.

~ Thomas Hardy

A few years ago, I wrote a poem about a particular piece of furniture, the gold-colored recliner in which I rocked many of my grandchildren. When I see it, I often think of my first grandchild, Florence Irene Penrod, who died shortly before her seventh birthday. She was the first child I rocked to sleep in the recliner. So the chair often brings poignant memories of Florrie. Though the poem only mentions two grandchildren, there were several others I rocked to sleep in that same chair, especially Florrie’s younger siblings who spent a lot of days and nights in my home while their sister was in the hospital. This poem—with the chair as prompt—recalls a journey of healing from loss. The sorrow of losing Florrie will remain with me always, but in time, I recalled more of the beautiful memories and learned to smile when I thought of her.

The Gold Recliner

Does this gold recliner remember
how many times Florrie rested
her head on my shoulder,
how she giggled at funny sounds,
how I sang “Don’t Fence Me In”
and “You Are My Sunshine”
as we rocked and fell into slumber.
Does the recliner know
she’d have been twenty
this year had she lived?

Now Lucas climbs between
the recliner’s enfolding arms,
five-year-old hands grasping
this week’s favorite superhero,
curls his tired body
into the golden lap to rest.

Only a couple years ago
Lucas let me hold him
as we read the same books
each afternoon, and finally one day
I could sing “You Are My Sunshine”
to this other grandchild,
after all those years
it had turned to dust in my throat.

~ Wilda Morris

This poem was first published on the website of Highland Park Poetry, http://www.highlandparkpoetry.org/, after winning in the adult non-resident division of their 2011 Poetry Challenge.

June Poetry Challenge

The challenge for June is to write a poem inspired by furniture. According to http://www.yourdictionary.com/furniture, “Furniture refers to moveable things like tables, chairs and sofas that are used to make a house or building a comfortable place to live.”

You may write a formal poem or free verse. If formal, please specify the form. The deadline is June 15. Poems submitted after the June 15 deadline will not be considered.

Copyright on poems is retained by their authors.

Due to formatting restrictions on the blog, all poems should be left justified. As much as I would enjoy a sparrow-shaped poem, I am unable to publish indentations, shaped poems or even extra spaces between words or phrases.

Poems published in books or on the Internet (including Facebook and other on-line social networks) are not eligible. If your poem has been published in a periodical, you may submit it if you retain copyright, but please include publication data.

How to Submit Your Poem

Send your poem to wildamorris[at]ameritech[dot]net (substitute the @ sign for “at” and a . for [dot]. Be sure provide your e-mail address. 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.

© 2012 Wilda Morris

May Poetry Challenge Winner

Congratulations to Julianne Carlile, winner of the May Poetry Challenge. Carlile combined the May Challenge with the one from April. You may think of this poem often as you look at the dandelions springing up in your lawn or in the local park or woodland!

To Argue with a Dandelion

to argue with a dandelion
is of course pointless
it doesn't love you
it doesn't love you not
it is just there soaking up the sun
and enjoying itself

it will ignore all your efforts
to destroy it
as it lies there wilting

it will not hold a grudge
tomorrow you will see its twin
and you will feel a twinge
as you start to uproot it with your weed puller
gee why do I have to do this
is it really hurting
anything at all

Julianne Carlile

Julianne Carlile retains ownership of the copyright on this poem.

The next poetry challenge will be posted on June 1.

© Wilda Morris

May 2012 Poetry Challenge - A Dandelion Poem

Dandelions originated in Eurasia, but over the centuries have spread to many other parts of the world, including North America. I’ll soon be posting a prose piece entitled “Thirteen Things You May Not Know about Dandelions” in my blog, “Walking with Nature.” “Walking with Nature” is published periodically in an on-line newspaper, “The Bolingbrook Patch” (http://bolingbrook.patch.com/). Dandelions are hated by some who want only grass in their lawns, but they are well-loved by children and poets. Perhaps the most famous poem about dandelions is the one written by British poet James Russell Lowell [1819-1891].

I like the way Lowell addresses the flowers themselves. Much of his phraseology is rich: “fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,” for instance. The metaphor of children as “high-hearted buccaneers” who find “an Eldorado in the grass” which surpasses in some way even the gold found by the Spanish is interesting and fun. The poem is enriched by Lowell’s reference to his own childhood, and is given a deeper meaning as he draws a lesson from the value of the “common flower” at the end of the poem.

To the Dandelion

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May,
Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold,
High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they
An Eldorado in the grass have found,
Which not the rich earth's ample round
May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me
Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be.

Gold such as thine ne'er drew the Spanish prow
Through the primeval hush of Indian seas,
Nor wrinkled the lean brow
Of age, to rob the lover's heart of ease;
'Tis the Spring's largess, which she scatters now
To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand,
Though most hearts never understand
To take it at God's value, but pass by
The offered wealth with unrewarded eye.

Thou art my tropics and mine Italy;
To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime;
The eyes thou givest me
Are in the heart, and heed not space or time:
Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee
Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment
In the white lily's breezy tent,
His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first
From the dark green thy yellow circles burst.

Then think I of deep shadows on the grass,
Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze,
Where, as the breezes pass,
The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways,
Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass,
Or whiten in the wind, of waters blue
That from the distance sparkle through
Some woodland gap, and of a sky above,
Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move.

My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee;
The sight of thee calls back the robin's song,
Who, from the dark old tree
Beside the door, sang clearly all day long,
And I, secure in childish piety,
Listened as if I heard an angel sing
With news from heaven, which he could bring
Fresh every day to my untainted ears
When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.

How like a prodigal doth nature seem,
When thou, for all thy gold, so common art!
Thou teachest me to deem
More sacredly of every human heart,
Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam
Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show,
Did we but pay the love we owe,
And with a child's undoubting wisdom look
On all these living pages of God's book.

~ James Russell Lowell

You can find ten dandelion poems (including this one) at
http://fohn.net/dandelion-pictures/poetry.html.

May Challenge: A Dandelion Poem

The challenge for May is to write a dandelion poem. Dandelion poems can concentrate on the beauty of the flower, childhood memories, or on foods or beverages made with the roots, leaves or blossoms of the dandelion. Or you can use the dandelion as a simile or metaphor. Maybe you have a better idea than any of these. Be creative. Your poem may be as formal as Lowell’s or free verse. If you use a form, please specify the form when you submit the poem.

The deadline is May 15. Poems submitted after May 15, 2012, will not be considered.

Copyright on poems is retained by their authors.

Due to formatting restrictions on the blog, all poems should be left justified. As much as I would enjoy a dandelion-shaped poem, I am unable to publish indentations, shaped poems or even extra spaces between words or phrases.

Poems published in books or on the Internet (including Facebook and other on-line social networks) are not eligible. If your poem has been published in a periodical, you may submit it provided that you retain copyright, but please include publication data.

How to Submit Your Poem

Send your poem to wildamorris[at]ameritech[dot]net (substitute the @ sign for “at” and a . for [dot]. Be sure provide your e-mail address. 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.


© 2012 Wilda Morris

April Challenge Winners

Congratulations to the three winners of the April Challenge, selected by poet William Marr.

The first stanza of Eve Lomoro's first place poem seems rather abstract, but she takes us by surprise in the second stanza.

To Argue or Not to Argue

most arguments are
pointless
people don’t listen
they just wait
thinking of words
they will use to
pounce on you
at the first possible moment
pounce on you
at every opportunity
thus it’s best
to never stop talking
you’ll drive them crazy
in the end

cats are different
they can
pounce on you
anytime they wish
and you never say a word
because it would be
pointless

~ Eve Lomoro

Thai Chau expresses a truth that many people don't believe during their teen years. They may not quite believe it until they become parents.

To Argue with Mother

To argue with Mother is
Meaningless
You say “Yes”
She’d say “No”
To win or lose
Is not much difference
‘Cause the argument is always started up
From love
And ends up
Still Being
Love

~ Thai Chau



Anna Yin took the challenge in a different direction, arguing with a famous artist.

Talking to Frida Kahlo

I am not you.
You stand, you sit,
and you untie yourself
on a canvas of pain and truth.
I escape.

Behind surrealistic scenes,
you strike reality;
I flutter fantasy.

“No!” eyebrows straighten,
your silent self rises.

“Yes…”
I manage to forge
a smile,
in every flash of blue.

I call that “hope”,
knowing you name it
“mirage”.

~ Anna Yin

Each of these poets maintains copyright on their own poem.

If you didn't try the April challenge earlier, this may give you inspiration to write your own argument poem or poems.

Watch for the Next Challenge, which will be posted on May 1.

© 2012 Wilda Morris

Poetry Challenge for April 2012

Photo of the Pacific Ocean taken by Wilda Morris, in September, 2004.

It seems to be in the nature of human beings to argue. Children may argue with friends over who got the biggest cookie or who gets to play with which toy. In some cultures teenagers argue with parents about how late they can stay out, and where and with whom. Co-workers may argue over work assignments. Friendships,love affairs, and marriages are sometimes broken up by arguments. One of the best pieces of advice I was ever give is that it is fine to disagree, but try to disagree agreeably.

Though you may have argued with other people, have you ever argued with the ocean? Or with sparrows? William Marr is writing a whole series of poems about pointless arguments—not arguments with human beings, but with other elements of nature and with inanimate objects. These poems have powerful images as well as a rye humor. Marr agreed to let me print two of his argument poems for the April challenge.

In case you are not familiar with Marr, I’d like to introduce you to this creative and original poet and artist. Marr was born in Taiwan and has published a total of seventeen books of poetry in Chinese, two books of essays and several books of translations in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and China. His two books of poetry in English, Autumn Window (1st ed. 1995, 2nd ed. 1996, Arbor Hill Press, Chicago) and Between Heaven and Earth (2010, PublishAmerica, Baltimore) are distributed at www.amazon.com. His poems are included in over one hundred anthologies, ranging from literary textbooks to special collections, and have been translated into more than ten languages.

Most of Marr's poems are short(many of them considerably shorter than those below). Many are humorous, and some have such surprising endings they almost take your breath away. Marr is a past president of the Illinois State Poetry Society, and a member of the Poets Club of Chicago and the Kentucky State Poetry Society. He has edited and published several anthologies of Chinese and Taiwanese modern poetry, and also pursues other artistic interests including painting and sculpting. He has held several solo as well as group exhibits in the Chicago area, Beijing, and on the Internet. His Website at http://wmarr9.home.comcast.net/~wmarr9/bmz.htm contains images of his art work as well as selections from his poetry books. A scientist by profession, he has lived and worked in the Chicago area since 1970.

As they say on television and radio, in the interests of fair disclosure, William Marr is also a friend. I have the privilege of being in two poetry groups with him, groups in which we critique each other's poems.


Here are two of Marr’s “argument poems”:


TO ARGUE WITH THE OCEAN

to argue with the ocean is pointless
you have neither the unlimited supply of saliva
nor the enormous lung capacity

the best thing you can do
is to lie down and become a beach
entice him to rush passionately toward you
over and over again
desperately trying to kiss you
embrace you
possess you

while you just lie there with a mischievous smile
toying with him
wasting him
exhausting him
watching him let out a long sigh
and retreat

convinced and speechless

~ William Marr


NOTE: In the poem above, some lines should be indented, but blogspot does not allow indentations. Marr gave me permission to print the poem with all lines left justified.


TO ARGUE WITH SPARROWS

to argue with sparrows in the sun
is of course pointless
they chitter and chatter
flutter and twitter
getting more excited and louder every second
there's simply no chance for you to open your mouth

only after the sun too becomes bored and impatient
and darkens its face
do they stop

at this moment
all you have to do is
lightly stamp your feet on the ground
whoosh----
they'll all be gone
without leaving
the slightest trace

~ William Marr

William Marr retains copyright to these poems.


April Poetry Challenge

The challenge for April is to write an argument poem. Your poem may follow Marr’s pattern, and be about the pointlessness of arguing with an animal, bird, mountain, or whatever. Or maybe you would prefer writing about are argument with your parent, child, spouse, boss, or other person. Or maybe, like some of the Hebrew prophets, you want to argue with God. Be creative.

You may write a formal poem or free verse. If formal, please specify the form. The deadline is April 15. Poems submitted after the April 15 deadline will not be considered.

Copyright on poems is retained by their authors.

Due to formatting restrictions on the blog, all poems should be left justified. As much as I would enjoy a sparrow-shaped poem, I am unable to publish indentations, shaped poems or even extra spaces between words or phrases.

Poems published in books or on the Internet (including Facebook and other on-line social networks) are not eligible. If your poem has been published in a periodical, you may submit it if you retain copyright, but please include publication data.

How to Submit Your Poem

Send your poem to wildamorris[at]ameritech[dot]net (substitute the @ sign for “at” and a . for [dot]. Be sure provide your e-mail address. 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.


© 2012 Wilda Morris