Meaning. Feathers. Fiction. Departures. Oysters.

EXERCISE 106: WHAT I REALLY MEANT WAS, PROSE POEMS

make it paragraphy

Write a prose poem titled “What I really meant was.” Additionally, let the phrase “what I really meant was” serve as both the opening and closing lines of the poem.

What I really meant was that I have not figured it out. I have not figured out how to make a living as a writer. I have not figured out how to not feel brokenhearted and enraged at this painful time. I have not figured out how to make sense of my steel hope. I have not figured out how to start (and continue) my work out plan. I have not figured out how to build a deep relationship with several people close to me. I have not figured out how to make good chocolate chip cookies or pancakes or waffles. 

I have not been able to keep house plants alive. I have not been able to figure out how to put the pieces of several broken relationships back together. I have not been able to figure out how to paint my own fingernails. I have not been able to sort out our storage unit. I have not been able to figure out how to have a to do list that is a based on integrity and joy. I have been able to make peace with every failure. I have have not been able to feel every success. I have not been able to breath deeply for many months. I have not been able to use my imagination to create my vision for the world I want. What I really mean was I have not figured it out.

EXERCISE 107: COMPRESS, DISTILL, REDUCE

sound & energy

Write a poem about a hammer or a feather (or both!) using only single-syllable words.

Flit. Lift. Duck./ Fleece. Down. Up./ Breathe. Blink. Sneeze./ Rose. Blow. Nose./ Tick. Tock. Toes./ Bow. Soft. Show./ Wrap. Warmth. Weave./ Please. Tease. Ease./ End. Float. Descend. 

EXERCISE 108: WAX POETIC ABOUT FICTION

Write lyric synopses of three novels you love. They should be ten lines, ten syllables each, and include both an image from the novel and a quote or approximate quote from the novel.

Tillie Olsen, “I Stand Here Ironing” from Tell Me A Riddle — 

“Let her be. So all that is in her will/ not bloom — but in how many does it? There is/ still enough left to live by.” To ironing— mak/ing life smooth, moving through and beyond re/gret and blame and guilt, looking toward creat/ing and growing and thriving. To letting/ be — stillness and knowing, falling/ apart and back together, as ifand I am not yet/ To having still enough left to live by.

Kate Chopin, The Awakening

“Perhaps it is better to wake up af/ter all, even to suffer, rather than/ to remain a dupe to illusions all/ one’s life.” To choose waking up when life hurts./ To love and breath and feeling. To moving through pain/ and sorrow and darkness toward light and/ softness and life. To holding it all close./ To remembering and connecting and life/ blood. To swimming and shining and expand/ing. To awakening from dark times.

Sandra Cisneros, Women Hollering Creek

“Because the way you grow old is kind of/ like an onion or like the rings inside/ a tree trunk or like my little wooden/ dolls that fit inside the other, each year/ inside the next.” To peace with our past and selves./ To legacies and memories and whole/ness. To weep and burn and ultimately/ thrive./ To generational healing and hope.

EXERCISE 109: WRITING DEPARTURE

as long as you can

Freewrite for as long as you can about leaving a person or a place that was dear to you.

I remember driving from Indianapolis to Bellingham — living more than 2 hours from home for the first time in my life. Two thousand miles from family. Two thousand miles from familiar. Two thousand miles from familiar trees and rivers. Two thousand miles from roots and flow. Two thousand miles toward sky. Two thousand miles toward the as if. Two thousand miles toward the I am not yet. 

Right now, the as if and the I am not yet have never been more important. Right now, imagination and courage and fire call on our interdependence and our strength and softness to heal and create and build. Right now, we can not let our hearts harden and isolate and numb. To do so would undermine the cause of peace and justice and love.

EXERCISE 110: A POEM YOU CAN EAT

from someone you love

Write a poem in which you share a recipe from someone you love who has died. If you don’t have such a person, it ought to be someone you’re no longer in touch with.

I want to write about our family’s New Year Day meal. Every New Year’s Day, my Aunt Bessie — who lived to the age of 94 and was sharp as a tack to the day she died — would make hand breaded, rolled oysters. (January 1st is my Dad’s birthday. So, the celebration was a bigger deal than just the start of a New Year.) Our family tradition dictates, that we would eat oysters (for love), black-eyed peas (for happiness), and cabbage (for wealth). The specifics of how each dish was prepared varied year-after-year (except for the oysters breaded with Saltine cracker crumbs in a cast iron skillet). Black eyed peas cooked in a ham hock. Boiled corned beef and cabbage. The New Year’s/birthday party would take place at different homes on different years. 

Aunt Bessie taught me about never arriving empty handed to a host’s home and never letting people leave our home emptied handed. She taught me about tradition and family and independence. Her husband, Uncle Joe, who she married in her forties, built the home my father was born in. So, it was always fitting she would cook for my Dad on New Years.

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