Tag Archives: Pádraig Ó Tuama

by

PF: A Pantoum

Somehow January has flown by. I just realized that I haven’t managed to show up for Poetry Friday more than once. Yikes! That’s a trend I intend to break, so I’m showing up a day late to the gathering.

I love when Pádraig Ó Tuama reminds me to try out a pantoum (here). His formula always yields interesting results. He says to write 8 lines, number them and put them into this order: 1,2,3,4 2,5,4,6 5,7,6,8 7,3,8,1. Then he says, “As lines repeat, feel free to punk them up a bit.” So here’s my pantoum-ish poem:

New Year’s Day

I forgot to watch for the first bird
I watch the snow fall instead
The trees shiver, draped in winter white and
we have eight blue birds at the feeder

I watch the snow fall
Even inside, the air by the windows is cold
While blue birds come and go from the feeder
my pen stumbles and starts

The air by the windows remains cold
As the moon descends, the sun peeks over the horizon
My pen stumbles and starts
The stack of firewood is getting low

The moon has disappeared: the sun peeks over the horizon
The trees are graceful, draped in winter white
The stack of firewood is getting low
I forgot to watch for the first bird

©Molly Hogan, draft

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Tabatha at her blog, The Opposite of Indifference.

by

June Inklings Challenge

I was in charge of the Inklings prompt this month, and I shared a mishmash of Pádraig Ó Tuama’s prompt from his recent craft talk: “You, you, you: The Address of Poetry”. In this talk, Pádraig focused on the word “you” in poetry. He mentioned William Waters several times, quoting, “…for a poem to say you is in every case a complex act.” Finally, he invited us all to, ““Write something narrative and by narrative I mean something that has story and observation to it…write about the first time you saw somebody who’s become a you to you…a you that you love to say…detail what else could be seen”… and let those other things convey what it all meant to you.

I found that thinking about using the word “you” in a poem was unsettling. I became hyperaware of it, pondering all the possible nuances of that seemingly simple word, “you”. It reminded me a bit of my first encounter with reading metacognitively. It felt both uncomfortable and enlightening.

I recently had a garden encounter that I first wrote about in my notebook as a poem, and then revised to write in prose for a Slice of Life post. Mary Lee Hahn commented on that post that it could serve as a response for this prompt. I went back to the original poem in my notebook and lifted some phrases from my SOL piece to create this response. The end result clearly doesn’t completely adhere to the prompt, but I’m all about just showing up right now 🙂

(Untitled for now)

On a day of crystal clarity
and blossom-scented air,
I lift the discarded garden pot,
(which I mistakenly thought
was mine) and
you shift the world to shudder
by slithering over
my unsuspecting hand.

My shriek
shatters the blue tranquility.
You and your pot
tumble down to earth.
I windmill backward while
my heart rate soars
skyward.

After many deep breaths,
I step forward,
warily-keen to observe
the glossy sheen of your overlapping scales
the flickering black and red
of your forked tongue.

We pass several long moments,
your unblinking eyes
linked with mine.
The small space between
you and me
hums with possibility.

©Molly Hogan, draft

If you want to see photos from my adventure (or read the prose version), you can visit my Slice of Life post.

We opted to make our prompt optional this month because so many of us have multiple irons in the fire. I’m not sure who all is choosing to respond, but you’ll be rewarded by visiting their blogs anyway. Just click on the links to see what you find!

Linda @A Word Edgewise
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Heidi @my juicy little universe

Tracey Kiff-Judson has the Poetry Friday Roundup at her blog, Tangles and Tails.