Writing Exercise #87

Okay, loves, this is the 30th exercise of National Poetry Month.

Write your shrine. The thing people might build when you leave our planet. What is the saddest song in the world playing? What is the shrine's house made of? What object represent you? What memories paint the walls? What is made from your bones? Your hair? Your teeth? Need inspiration? Read the poem that inspired this exercise. But brace yourself - it's a doozey.

Writing Exercise #86

My most favorite form in the world is the PANTOUM. I am a sucker for rhythm and repetition, when done well, and I tend to write them when I'm outraged. Weird, I know.

Write a pantoum where each line is either a bad excuse (i.e. "She meant nothing to me") or any quote or cruddy pick-up line that has ignited the angry bone in you to spark some fire. If you want to get real deep, you can make the pantoum be a collection of the worst things you've said to a lover/family member/friend or vice versa. Just remember, the first line of your poem is the last line of your poem, so make sure it has resonance.

Writing Exercise #85

Write a seven section poem with small vignettes for each deadly sin.


(This exercise is inspired by a set of poems in Stephen Dobyns' book "Griffon," most particularly, this one.)

Writing Exercise #84

I like the idea of writing a ghazal with a slang refrain, like "yeah, whatever" or "psssh, I don't think so." I don't know why I have never written a ghazal. I have a dozen pantoums and sestinas, but no ghazals! I better get crack-a-lackin!

Need some inspiration? It's not a ghazal, but it's HOLY.

Writing Exercise #83

Today, one of my toddler daughters had the end of a stick in her mouth. I said, "Stop eating that stick! We don't eat sticks, silly!" and my 4-year old daughter said, "Yeah, Lulu. If you eat sticks, you will get old."


So let's riff off that. Write a poem built out of four (or however many) cinquains that tell the story of someone getting old. Make sure one of the things that made them old was something they ate. Something they saw. Something they heard. Something they felt. A fragrance. Have the first line be the person's name. If you want each cinquain to be about a different person, cool. Oh, and if you forgot what a cinquain was, here's the format: 

line 1 - 2 syllables
line 2 - 4 syllables
line 3 - 6 syllables
line 4 - 8 syllables
line 5 - 2 syllables

 

My Poems Online

A sweet gal (hi, Chris!) asked me for links to poems I've had published that AREN'T listed on my website. Yes, I have been super slow in getting updated information to the astoundingly talented web hero David Ayllon so, until I get my site updated, I'll try my best to remember what was published where. Here are a few, just off the top of my head:

Evergreen Review

Thrush

La Petite Zine

Vinyl Poetry

Muzzle Magazine  and here

Beloit Poetry Journal

Writing Exercise #82

I wrote a poem about my most favorite performer from the silent era, Mexican actress Lupe Vèlez. I think it's time we pay homage to old Hollywood. Those poor f*ckers. They had it rough. So start digging, dear writer. Check out this forum, if you need. Wiki or Google Fatty Arbuckle's victim, Clark Gable's secret daughter. Write them a blessing or a curse. Give them the voice they never had in life.

Writing Exercise #81

Write a big juicy mythology of someone. It could be a family member or someone you admire from afar, but make sure it's someone who changed a room with their arrival. Even if it isn't true. Be sure to include all five senses when describing their presence. What weather did they induce? What bloomed suddenly? How did the insects react? What bad idea stirred suddenly in someone's mind? What comfort?


(This exercise was inspired by the extraordinary Vievee Francis and her breakneck poem Say It, Say It Anyway You Can.)

Writing Exercise #80

Let's ghost line today. If you don't know or remember what that means, here's the rule: grab a line you like from a poem or song or story and have it be the "invisible" first line of your piece of writing, i.e. the "jump off" point. So, if I use a line from one of my most favorite books of all time "these were the strong, troubled, murderous thinkings of the masculine sea" (from Moby Dick) whatever I write off of that would be the actual "visible" first line that appears. Today's ghost line comes from Farrah Field's poem Amy Mounts the Empire State Building:

"Someone was supposed to be holding you in the rain..."

Writing Exercise #79

Sorry I've been blogpostnegligent lately. I will catch up by tomorrow morning. Promise. I was in Bronxeville, New York & spent a good amount of time at the Sarah Lawrence Poetry Festival for the past four days, and I am giddy to say it was one of my favorite poetic experiences to date. Such brilliant writers who ALSO read their poems perfectly, which isn't always the case, of course. I think it is important to understand your poem's voice and its oral qualities. Assonance. Musicality. Temper, joy. I didn't even want to read when it was time to read. I wanted to go home and write. Or cartwheel in a field.

I'll base my next five exercises on poems from poets I heard over the weekend.  Here goes:

Write a poem or story about how others changed your name for you over the years. Consider the "firsts" of things. (My first pet was a carnival goldfish I won. I named him Orange Pill, he lived for two years. A record for any small animal in that house at the time. His was the first death I experienced. I couldn't sleep that night, and wound up watching Johnny Carson with my dad. It was monumental, and I always held Carson in my heart the way you might a sweet uncle. Then there was Shawnie, my first kiss. And Mrs. Clemons who liked to pinch me in class when no one was looking). So:

Johnny changed my name to the pulse-glow-dark of the television laughter. Shawnie's  hard kiss in the closet made me want a boy's name. Made me marry girls on the playground. Mrs. Clemons, flesh, thumb and knuckle, put the "ache" in the middle of my name.

If you know the origin or reasoning behind what you were named, include that. But most of all, have fun. There are no rules. Quit thinking there are rules. I'm just giving you suggestions. Flint spark pop wizz.

This exercise was inspired by a tiny moment in this firecracker of a poem by Joshua Marie Wilkinson. BOOM.

Writing Exercise #78

I was in transit all day yesterday, and without my laptop, which was exciting but also a little guilt-making (and trust me, my guilt-maker is put to daily use, so don't feel too bad) because I want to write exercises for those who are stuck and especially those who are churning out poems, daily.

I woke up feeling this line, so I want you to consider using it as either the title or the first line:

"This is Something I Need You to Understand."

 You can write a list of things to be understood, or an incident, but make sure it's really what you need to be understood. And make sure it's written so it CAN be understood. I'm going to go write on this right now. Good luck, you amazing writer, you!

Writing Exercise #77

Write a list poem that includes the fifteen things you were born with.

Writing Exercise #76

I like the idea of writing a poem where a person has the unfortunate ability of seeing the future of everything and everyone. It could be you, or your brother or your sad uncle. Imagine the ordinary tasks and emotions that are tarnished due to this unique ability. How even the weather can be a mirror of a wasteland. How love might end abruptly, even when its not been given time enough to fade.

This exercise was inspired by one of my favorite paintings by Rene Magritte:

Writing Exercise #75

INGREDIENTS:

1. Three things that were taken without your permission.
2. Three things you would keep in your own private tree house.
3. Three places animals hide/live in.

- - - - - -

For those of you doing the 30/30 challenge for this here National Poetry Month, you're either on a roll or you've lost some gas by now. The sixteenth poem is usually my least favorite of what I put out. So I'm going to try my best to write you an exercise that will, hopefully, spark SOMETHING that has gone untapped this month.

Open the poem with the loss (#1.) beginning either with your search for it, or how it felt the moment you realized it was gone. Gather the things from #2 and go live in #3. Decide who is allowed in your little space and who is not. Write what/who you miss. What small thing from home do you dream of? What song do you sing to yourself? What are you the God of in this new and hidden world? What, of nature, is your anthem?

Still stuck? Poet Nicole Homer has awesome exercises here, and then I found this site a few days ago that BLEW MY MIND.

Writing Exercise #74

I keep forgetting all of the images I've put aside over the years for a prompts. So, here goes:

Writing Exercise #73

Please write a poem or inner monologue in the voice of your favorite movie character. Please put them in a "regular people" setting. Please choose someone other than Marilyn Monroe.

Writing Exercise #72

Today is the year anniversary of my cousin Jennifer's death. It was an unexpected occurrence (she died of complications from pneumonia,) and it is one I have yet to really deal with properly. Most days, I forget she's gone. A luxury of living so far from my family, I suppose. Jennifer left behind four beautiful little girls. She was 32 years old.

The last three years have been exceptionally rough. Five of my friends have died and two of my family members have been diagnosed with terminal cancer. My niece passed away from a rare and aggressive cancer on February 15th. She was 23-months old. There isn't an actual word for what it feels like. The loss. "Grief" hasn't enough letters. Not enough syllables. It is so much bigger than that word. Wilder.

A lot of my writing exercises request the writer to create from a sorrowful place, to try and build a thing of beauty from within that space. I believe, as artists, we should allow ourselves the opportunity to elevate our survival and hardships to a spectacular and artistic level, otherwise, we have not fully acknowledged what we have endured or suffered in the first place. Of course, there are some things that cannot be written, and we must be respectful of this. I have several "can't go there" subjects as well. I don't believe in re-triggering ourselves for the sake of art, and I have always taught my students to be aware of how important it is to withhold. "Keep something for yourself, always." But there is definitely beauty in the aftermath. In the rebuilding. And in knowing that we are not what happened to us.

Buddhist leader Thich Nhat Hanh said, when speaking to those in hospice, the thing that brought them the most comfort was this: "Don't worry. The body that is dying here is not you." I've held onto those words a lot, especially lately. It reminded me of an old exercise I used to give students. A poem in the form of a living will. Only, instead of tangible items, I wanted the writers to pass on favorite physical traits, or portions of their character they were proud of, or the fiery parts that a different person might need. Memories. Anecdotes and useful regrets. Of course, you can choose to leave things to non-people as well. My most favorite line of all time was from Marta, who said, "I leave the hills my nothingness."

Today's exercise will be a variation of the living will. What I want you to do today, dear writer, is write your life in reverse. Start with where you might end, and everything you have carried with you, and get rid of each thing, in whichever manner you choose. Like an un-doing. Get younger with each thing until you are back inside your mother's belly. Close with your first thought.

(This exercise was inspired by my friend, Sammy Parker, an absolute hero.)

Writing Exercise #71

INGREDIENTS:

1. List anything you have an illogical fear of.
2. Three shames.
3. A small hiding place in your house.

- - - - -

Write a poem or small story about avoidance. Have everything in #1 and #2 be trapped in #3.

Writing Exercise #70

Some of my most favorite poems or short stories are less than twelve lines long. Consider the heartbreaking short story by Ernest Hemingway: For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

Write a poem or story in eleven lines or less. Write it as if you were writing a photograph. You can make the moment personal or choose to write from fiction. What was that moment like, the second your firstborn child came from his mother? Describe the moment you heard terrible news. Or Goldilocks, when she first woke to find herself surrounded by three grizzlies. Let images take the place of feeling. Let the atmosphere set the tone. I know I say that a lot, but I mean it EVERY TIME.

This exercise was inspired by one of my favorites, Adonis, an Arab poet, and his poem "Song" (as translated by the equally masterful poet Khaled Mattawa)

Writing Exercise #69

INGREDIENTS:

1. Make columns for each of the Five Senses and beneath each sense, write the things that turn you on. For example, for SMELL: a sweaty man or the name of your wife's neck.

2. Write down the animal of your love. I'm sure your love is either a wild beast or a soft animal.

3. A quiet place.

- - - - -

Write a ghostlove poem. It could be the voice of your actual ghost, or the ghost of your love. Let it or you take on the characteristics of what you chose for #2. Now place the ghost of your self or love in the quiet place. Let it roam and wander, searching for the things listed in #1. Perhaps this is what your love does while you are sleeping. Or what you would do with the person you loved if you left this planet. Just be sure to allow yourself and/or your love its proper wildness.

This exercise was inspired by the number 69.

Writing Exercise #68

INGREDIENTS:

1. Write down a place of dread. It's tax season, I'm sure you can think of something. If you hate the dentist, go with that.
2. Think of an infamous asshole. It could be someone from your personal history. Or it could be a former president.


- - - - - - -

Have the asshole come in desperately looking for services from #1. Perhaps it's at a dentist's office. If so, what was found in this person's teeth? If the place is an accountant's office, consider making the asshole create a spreadsheet. A breakdown of all the terrible crap she/he pulled on people. What they owe in return for their bad behavior. Make stuff up. Go bonkers, have fun.

And if it's too early to feel inspired, read this amazing poem by Cindy Goff.

Writing Exercise #67

Write a list poem made completely of alternate endings. (I'm sure you have a zillion things you'd like to change. I have a zillion and one.)

Writing Exercise #66

Haven't done a ghost line exercise in a while. If you don't know or remember the rules, it goes like this. You/I pull a hot line from a poem or story of someone else's, then make that the "invisible" first line of your poem/story. You essentially build off the line, and your second line is the "visible" first line of your piece.

Today, I'm feeling: "Each front porch holds a chair where no one sits," from the poem Our Lady of Perpetual Help, by April Lindner.

Writing Exercise #65

INGREDIENTS:

1. Write down three historical moments that have happened during your life.

2. Create an image log for each event. If you want to focus only on one, make sure it's the most vivid.

- - - - - -

Write about a first experience you've had that parallels with the historical moment. Write it as if they happened at the same time, even if they didn't. Write it as if they happened just a few yards from each other. Or, get wild, and be what caused the event. Just remember to keep it classy.

Writing Exercise #64

I've never used a word pool for an exercise on this blog, so let's start now:


messy
ceremony
clamp
anchor
insect
brine
legacy
suffocate
borrow
turbulence
cannon
devote
burden
detangle


- - - - -

Feeling like you still need some extra voltage? READ THIS POEM.

Writing Exercise #63

INGREDIENTS:

1. List three specific tasks required of those who work in a uniform.
2. Write three specific tasks different animals do to survive.
3. One thing a president or dictator or person of power does in the first hour of waking.
4. List three tasks performed by people who have white collar jobs.
5. Something only a lover would know.
6. Something only an enemy would do.

- - - - - - -

Write about something monumental that happened to you, even if it's one line. Then include how all of the people from your lists continued their tasks. Consider this a poem about how the show went on. Make sure you articulate how important these tasks were in keeping their world afloat. Which is, of course, your world, too.

Writing Exercise #62

INGREDIENTS:

1. Write down three spectacular moments you have witnessed.
2. Write down three things you wish you could do for three other people.
3. Name three things you've done in a rampage.
4. Name three things you've done for love.
5. (This might be hard.) You have to come up with ONE WORD that best describes you.

- - - - - -

What you wrote down for #5 is your title. Have the next lines or stanzas be its numerous definitions by using the moments you wrote down for 1-4.

(This exercise was inspired by the spectacular poem "Mean" by Colette Labouff Atkinson.)

Writing Exercise #61

Write a poem that re-tells a family anecdote. If you don't have one, think of one you've heard from someone else. A story that has never left you. Let the last line be what you learned from this anecdote; a power you now have, or a black hole you avoid.

It's not as simple as it sounds. Trust me.

Writing Exercise #60

Ingredients:

(answer these. NO monosyllabic answers or you will cheat yourself. Oh, and DO NOT move to the next step until you have completed these.)

1. Where will you be in 100 years?

2. Something awful to find in your bedroom.

3. Write down three images from three separate fairy tales.

4. Describe the soundtrack of your childhood.

5. Write the cure for a broken heart.

6. What physical attribute of a celebrity do you wish you had? Include their name in your answer.

7. Write the materials it takes to build an unstable house.

- - - - -

Make sure you've written out your answers before you move on to the next step.
If you read the next step,

you aren't going to be able to write your answers the way you need yourself to.

I'm serious. DO NOT MOVE ON to the next step until you have created the above ingredients.

I'm not joking.


Like, for real.


STOP IT.





- - - - -

SECOND LIST OF INGREDIENTS:

1. Write seven questions you'd love to ask __________ . Each question doesn't have to be to the same person. Save one for god and one for your favorite aunt if you must, but make sure the questions are yours. Things you need the answers to. You must be curious about things. You must wonder why _____ happened, or how ______ could have ended differently.


- - - - -

Once you've written out all seven of your questions, answer each one with your first list. Do the best you can to keep them in the same order. I often do this exercise with a partner (we each write down seven questions and seven answers and then I answer their first question with my first answer, no matter how ridiculous, and just go down the line.) Title the poem, "Conversations with _______" and then include an abnormal setting - think butcher shop, think the library at 3:15 a.m., think abortion clinic holiday party. Or, do something else entirely! Remember, there are NO RULES to my exercises. These steps are just to get your gears moving.

This is just one fun way to get juicy non sequiturs. This is how I come up with lines or images meant to unsettle the reader in the middle of a stanza. To remind them they are reading a poem and not the newspaper. Because isn't a poem about going to church better when "Marilyn Monroe's pinky finger" finds its way onto the collection plate?

Do whatever you want with your questions and answers but make sure it is something you would not have thought of yesterday. If you're still superduper stuck, let a Traci Brimhall poem fix you. BAM!

Writing Exercise # 59

INGREDIENTS:

1. Think of someone you have great memories of.

2. List some of those memories. Capture as many quiet/wild/scary/joyous moments as you can.

3. Make up three impossible memories.

- - - - -

Let's write an anaphora poem. CLICK HERE to learn what one is and, also, to read a few examples. Ginsberg's "Howl" is a great example, too.

Consider any of the following to be your opening/repeating line:

It seems like yesterday when

No one can take away

Let the last thing I remember be

We dared to

When we were young

Our hearts only wanted to

In 19____



or make up your own. Once you catch your rhythm, don't let it go. Include the impossible memories. Include specific details of places only you and this person could know. It's okay if none of these memories are real. If you want this to be a dream-filled eulogy, do it. But make sure you have some fun.

Writing Exercise #58

INGREDIENTS:

1. Three humiliations.

2. Three disasters (natural, political, whatever you want)

3. Three discomforts.


_ _ _ _ _

Do you know what a curse is? Not a curse word, I'm talking about an actual downhome and hearty curse. If you've never written one, that's okay. You've most likely thought one in response to someone wretched before. And if you haven't, you probably deserve some sort of medal.

This exercise is about you writing some catalogue verse...a list poem of seventeen curses. The first nine should be pulled from the things you wrote out as ingredients, above. By the time you hit number 8 or 9, you should be on a roll. Which is why I want you to s t r e t c h that amazing brain of yours and write 8 more.

The entire poem should not be to one person. Curse anyone and everyone you can think of. I'm thinking Newt Gingrich has an entire congregation of blackbirds waiting to peck out his tongue. Oh, which reminds me. Try to incorporate groups of animals. Or better, groups of [insert horrible thing here.] That animal groups link is my go-to when I'm feeling extra wicked. And don't worry, you can be naughty on the page today, because tomorrow's exercise will totally make up for it.

Writing Exercise #57

Write a second-person narrative poem about a moment when you were extremely scared/lonely/grief-struck/cruel/free or wild.