We are in the final season of this wonderful Imaginary Garden, as 2019 draws to its conclusion and, with this in mind, I asked a very special friend of the Toads to share one of her fabulous and famous Word Lists for the last Get Listed writing challenge.
This mystery guest wishes to retain her anonymity, but she has been a long-time blogger, who has her own special, magical way of appearing in many whimsical disguises, like Alice recreating her own unique Wonderland. I am most thankful for her support and artistic approach to poetry over the many years of my blogging experience and thrilled to share her eclectic selection of words with everyone today.
To participate in this challenge please select THREE or MORE words from the list and write an new poem inspired by the images they suggest.
This month's list is dedicated to the risky proposition currently called 'Democracy'.
Even for our out-of-nation Toads and visitors - what happens in the US November 8th will for good or ill directly impact the rest of the world.
The challenge: describe your view on this year's US election - how it affects you, how it angers or delights you, how you will be moving to a small island that likely will be consumed by global warming soon, but hey, better blue than orange.
Part (A): you may NOT use pejoratives, curse words, obviously denigrating terms, etc.
Part (B): Instead, take the approach of Dorothy Parker:
"This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force."
If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.
or Oscar Wilde:
"Always forgive your enemies - nothing annoys them so much."
Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.
Part (C): take at least 3 of the following list of words and weave them into a new poem for the challenge, observing parts A and B above:
As a reminder, please post the poem to your own blog, link that specific post in Mr. Linky below, and please revisit over the next few days so you can read your fellow contributor's efforts.
I've been traveling for work most of the past several months.
from visitrapidcity.com
At present I'm in Sturgis, South Dakota, for the 76th annual motorcycle rally. Mt. Rushmore is about an hour away. Hail the size of baseballs fell last night about 30 miles north. Rain like rivers plunged from the sky in the late afternoon, leaving bikers pummeled, tired. The rest of the time, heat curls anything of color into concrete grey.
via alamy.com
People watching is... to use an overused cliche'... epic. The local bars are gigantic affairs, with door signs warning 'no colors or weapons'. (Colors are the bandana or other items that show membership in a particular bike gang, and are not about banning people of color.) (Though by a vast majority, visitors are white.) Food is of two varieties: fried, and fried. Decided not to try the local sushi restaurant. People are invariably polite, though - Sturgis is neutral ground. Hallowed, even. Maybe that's why Harley colors are orange and black...
This month, the twist on the list is this: pick *at least* 3 cities / locations that you have visited, want to visit, or wish you never had. Can be fact or fiction. Why were/are you there? What did you do / are you doing there? Are they, or how are they connected?
All in iambic pentameter.
:) Just kidding. Form not required. Heck, in Sturgis, clothes are somewhat optional. Corey, google it...
As a reminder, please write a new poem, post it to your blog, and link that specific poem in Mr. Linky below. The prompt will remain open, so feel free to return later. As ever, travel to other participant's sites and leave a note that you popped in.
Thanks for stopping by.
~ M
(all above photos fair use - will remove if requested. photos below by author)
Do you love words like superstructure, riverbank, carpetbagger as much as I do? I find they have a very satisfying effect upon the tongue and mind.
The word challenge for our month of April Madness is to use compound words in constructive and imaginative ways.
free wallpaper
Instructions:
Follow the link below to a site which offers 15 lists of well-known and also more unusual compound words. Select a minimum of three words to include in your poem of the day.
"Your voice is music enough," the woman says. "You know, you seem to be very romantic, but with your head not screwed on tight. Does it get you into trouble?" "Continually," Mr. Cohen replies, with the smile of someone who enjoys his troubles.
A lot of 'heads not screwed on tight' going around these days here in the US, as we prepare to elect a new president.
Terrifying, but still.
There's space, though, and time, for more - if we make it - don't you think?
This month's word list:
gravity
friend
able
serious
hungry
touch
work
aspect
nourish(ment)
... or any others you choose from the quote.
As a reminder: select 3 or more of these words (or reasonable variants), write a (voluptuous) new piece and post it to your blog, then link that specific poem into Mr. Linky, below.
The prompt will remain open, so take your time and come back later, and as always, please visit the other contributors.
And because we're always borrowing from one another anyways, Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah.
and so what about that Equinox? Well, how about some John Coltrane...
A follow up interview in 2012 by Pareles with Cohen is here.
But did you know that some places don't have tax? For example, the United Arab Emirates (at least according to Wikipedia) - not that I want to live there.
arabianbusiness.com
Consequently, this month's Get Listed word list is inspired by that Beatle's lyric, and Mr. Starr. Happy birthday, good sir.
As a reminder, for those who choose to participate, please select at least 3 of the following words (reasonable variants are ok), and pen a *new* poem for the prompt. Then, publish it to your blog, and link your specific poem (not the main blog) in Mr. Linky below.
The link will remain open, so please re-visit and comment on the other poems, too - I suspect I'm not alone hoping that someone besides the taxman is paying attention...
Writing, reading, and commenting fatigue lingers from the April poem-fest.
So, straight to this month's Get Listed prompt.
I have winnowed the list from the (translated) poems of Pablo Neruda, specifically, from the bilingual edition Pablo Neruda - Selected Poems (Houghton Mifflin, 1970).
As a reminder, please write a new poem for this prompt using at least 3 of the list words (or reasonable variants), post it to your own site, and link to that specific poem (not just your blog) in Mr. Linky, below.
The List:
from "Poet's Obligation", page 429 (links to full poem at PoemHunter.com):
The prompt will remain open so please frequently revisit your fellow writers - and it's good form to comment on their pens, if you would have them visit and read yours. Thanks for participating.
Abandoned, near Barker's Dam, Joshua Tree National Park
Been traveling.
In the last month I've flipped the page to 50, and travelled (were I a crow) over 10,500 miles, successively: home, Miami (work), home, Tucson and Palm Springs (friends), home, New Orleans (work), home, and Joshua Tree (son's 16th birthday). Now home for another 5 weeks, before Atlanta calls (work).
King of Smores. Age 16.
Hence, radio silence.
Met some interesting folk along the way, got stuck in Houston when United Airlines blah blah blah, saw some very cool rocks, gained 10 pounds (have you had a beignet?), sat in the desert to utter, utter quiet, when one can hear blood pumping, birds mutually sing from across a mesa, and wonder where the background hum of vehicular traffic went and how we ever let the skies lighten to blank the stars and cars dampen birdsong and roads be built to cross the desert - ironic, since that's how I got there.
(By the by - if it's on your bucket list, get to Joshua Tree National Park sooner rather than later. Climate change and decreasing rainfall spell a grim future; current estimates are that the park will be barren of its namesake by mid-century - extinct by drought. Of course, Miami and Nola might well be under water by then, too. Pack light; it's warm there.)
So, this is breakfast in Houston.
Beignets. At NOLA airport!
Saw the Ganymede moons floating near Jupiter magnified 280x through a telescope at an observatory outside 29 Palms; flying beads from a float in the French Quarter; geodes 3 meters tall at the Tucson gem show; dancing girls at a street restaurant in South Beach; but not my own bed on a Saturday night for a month, and I'm glad that's where I'll be this weekend.
If it were anywhere but New Orleans, this would be creepy.
Did I mention dinosaurs? Hwy 62.
Campsite 101, Hidden Cove, Joshua Tree
This month's get listed word choices arose from pondering while sitting in a flying bus at 35,000 feet. I got to thinking how close yet how far some words are, and started thinking of pairs that share a root, as it were, but not necessarily a sense. So not tense/intense, which are closely related, but... well, these:
miss / remiss
deem / redeem
wager / dowager
pulse / repulse
file / defile
peat / repeat
sent / absent
Your challenge is to select at least 2 of these pairs - or come up with a pair of pairs of your own, words that share common spelling but not common meaning - and weave them into a *new* poem, however you please.
As a reminder, please post the link directly to your pen (and not just to your blog page) in Mr. Linky below, and then revisit often in the coming days to read (and hopefully comment on) your fellow poets' work.
I'll be around later in the week; if it takes a bit to compose your piece, feel free to link up to The Tuesday Platform next week.
Looking forward to rejoining the garden, for a bit. Thanks for coming by.
Here's one more: thank you to Chief Toad, Kerry O'Connor, and to all the toad dwellers and visitors, for making this site both challenging and welcome.
If you wish, write of the year gone, or up ahead, or really whatever strikes your fancy. I'm a bit less enamored of ritual as I get older.
As a reminder: select three or more words (or reasonable variants) from this list for your poem, post it to your blog, then link the pen itself to Mr. Linky below.
Then please visit again to read your fellow's work, comment if you would (we all do enjoy the feedback)... and best wishes for 2015.
I’m traveling, if that’s the right word to describe being in a place not my home.
Virgin flight 162 departed on time from LAX, destination Newark, but really destination Philadelphia, where work awaits a world away from the ever-dry California coast. (It turns out I should have flown to Philly, because I added 4 hours of train to a 5 hour flight...)
The pilot said it was 8 degrees in Philly. But clear, at least. Temperature at takeoff from LA, even early morning, was 62. I think I’ll need
new gloves.
Current track: Please Read the Letter, by Alison Krauss, featuring Robert Plant. Virgin America's available playlist on the onboard jukebox is surprisingly broad.
from Youtube, Fair Use
Below, red dirt ignores the difference between Arizona and New Mexico, because borders don’t exist until we place them there, and the land pays attention to the passing of the sun more than the shadow of a plane.
Your word list for November, inspired by seat 24A looking north out the window:
Please select at least 3 words from the list (or reasonable variations) and incorporate them into a new pen.
After you’ve posted to your own blog, return and add a link to your specific post (not just a link to your blog) using Mr. Linky, below. Then, visit and re-visit your fellow poets' work, and please
leave comments at their places – because we all like to read letters.
I'll plan to visit later in the week, so feel free to join in anytime, and thanks for reading and participating.
The northern hemisphere tumbles into Autumn; Winter slinks nearer. Harvests are in. Frost will soon limn trees into skeletal silhouettes.
Liminality is a social ritual spanning a number of pre-Christian cultures, and pre-dates Halloween.
"El Día de Muertos - The Day of the Dead - celebrations in Mexico can be traced back to a pre-Columbian past. Rituals celebrating the deaths of ancestors had been observed by these civilizations perhaps for as long as 2,500–3,000 years. In the pre-Hispanic era skulls were commonly kept as trophies and displayed during the rituals to symbolize death and rebirth. The celebration takes place on October 31, November 1 and November 2."
"Samhain (pronounced /ˈsɑːwɪn/ sah-win or /ˈsaʊ.ɪn/ sow-in[1] Irish pronunciation: [sˠaunʲ]) is a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the "darker half" of the year. It is celebrated from sunset on 31 October to sunset on 1 November, which is nearly halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice."
(both from Wikipedia)
Halloween is all about skimpy outfits, er, trick or treat, ok, Christmas light strands repurposed with orange bulbs, well - ghosts and witches and monsters and politicians.
So in the spirit of spirits, gather around the embers of a dying fire and tell your spookiest ghost story, using at least 3 words (or reasonable derivatives) from this list.
As a reminder, please write your new pen, post it to your blog, and link to Real Toads using Mr. Linky below. Then, come back later - perhaps after midnight - to read and comment on your fellow poet's own pens.
Summer is in full bloom. Monarch butterflies keep visiting the milkweed, so we've been careful not to disturb either caterpillars or chrysalis. Tomatoes are starting to come in, but the squash have succumbed alternately to gophers and powdery mildew. The eggplant look good, though.
I've not been writing much, but find it's again my turn to till the soil in the imaginary garden. Hopefully we'll plant seeds to flourish rather than wilt.
Here is the word list, plucked one from each of the last ten prompts here in IGWRT.
fresh, burst, defy, chain, struck, forward, exchange, customary, prefer, close
There's no particular theme; free associate at your leisure.
If you're new or it's been a while, here's the process: please select at least three words and pen a new poem, add it to Mr. Linky below, and of course we ask that you pay a visit to, and comment on, each of the other contributions. If you come by early, please return later.
(All photos taken in my garden over the past few weeks.)
Thanks for coming by, and I look forward to seeing what blooms.
We reach April's end. Showers were promised, perhaps to rinse the stench of 30 consecutive days of raw poems published without heed to clinging dirt whence they were dug. Of course I speak of myself, as I found the some-thousand pens I read this month (and many more comments, if fewer by me) to be alternately inspirational, melancholic, funny, chilling, grandiose, brilliant, sweet, stoic, emotional, raw, polished - but overall, authentic. (The pens, not my comments. I need new synonyms - Roget's is burned up by now.) Originally I was thinking to bring Rainer Maria Rilke back into the garden. He is frequently cited and much admired, but fortunately chief Toad, the inimitable Kerry O'Connor (Skywriting, Skylover) chose to highlight him a few days ago as the inspiration for Open Link Monday, with these famous lines:
You ask whether your verses are any good... This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write?
I invite all visitors to read her post and the comments, and, of course the offered poems and those comments - contributing where you can, and when you must. As honored guest and contributor, the brilliant poet Brendan noted in those comments:
Rilke was perhaps the only poet EVER to entirely exist upon his writing of poems -- never taught, had any day job, nothing but writing poems. Few can live even close to his example. A god? Perhaps, but certainly a bell on Sunday ever reminding us of this love, this task, this burden inconsequential to everything else a human exists for. Who else can we address such things to except the poets in each of us, and the ancient one deep down inside who bid us Write?
Indeed. However, despite popular acclaim and a vote of ones, I've chosen a different road on this final day of National Poetry Writing Month (which I follow both here in the garden, and at Maureen Thorson's blog, NaPoWriMo 2014.) I look forward to those who voted in favor to highlight M. Rilke (Herr Rilke?) for a future challenge (Helen, Shay, Hedgewitch, Margaret).
Instead, as your inspiration for the final day, I proffer an old chestnut: The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, first published in the US for the princely sum of $2.00, on 6 April, 1943 by Reyanl & Hitchcock (with questionable license to do so), later by Harcourt, Brace, and World. (Currently, 1943 editions range in price from $15 to $1,600, with an original signed copy fetching some $32,000 last year.) Saint-Exupéry disappeared in a Lockheed P-38 Lightning on 31 July, 1944. (My father learned to fly in a P-38 as a Lieutenant in the VNAF, and gave me my first copy of the book (in French) sometime around the age of 9. That he disappeared in France for a while before returning to the US near the end of his life, is neither an echo nor a comparison to Saint-Exupéry, but, remains a curiosity to me. My two sons loved the book when I read it to them in the closing minutes before bed - as my 15 year old just reminded me, when he asked me what I was doing.)
The Morgan Library and Museum in New York just concluded a 3-month run of exhibits, lectures, films (one with Gene Wilder as the Fox), and a (canceled) concert in celebration of Le Petit Prince. The "official" website The Little Prince notes that beginning in May 2014, there will be a month long celebration at Olympian City in Hong Kong. Our diminutive ami remains a best-seller, trailing only Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and Tolkien's Lord of the Ring series, per wikipedia, in total global sales. (I mention this because of my fascination with numbers.)
To me, he represents whimsy, curiosity, the willingness to question authority, the spirit of exploration, flowers and planets and elephants and snakes and the inherent flexibility of points of view, and how I continually forget that to remain child-like in outlook is infinitely preferable to becoming a ledger entry. And so when I return to the pages, it's as much as to remember what was, as to remind me to continue to invite wonder. For your word list challenge today, I ask that you write an original poem (or re-work an older pen) in the spirit of the book, using at least 3 of these words, post to Mr. Linky, and then return to visit and comment on all the other posts. I'll be sure to visit periodically in the days to come in case you choose to join later. The list: primeval, adventures, grown-ups, clad, reputation, ephemeral, flower, lucky, poison, stars, bank, forget, odd, million, reflective, trouble, baobabs, silence, naive, explorer. "All men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people. ... You-- you alone-- will have the stars as no one else has them--" Thanks for playing along, and congratulations to everyone who tussled through NaPoWriMo - and to those who didn't, too. ~ M
