XXV.
The clouded mountains,
are distant and beautiful—
sunlight peeking through:
I would go, if you allow,
and breathe in the wisps of sky.
Prompt: write a poem based on the “Proust Questionnaire.” Ignored.
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XXIV.
I would like to suggest
the purple lilacs flowering
in my neighborhood
are spring’s platonic ideal—
here am I, only sneezing.
Prompt: write a poem that starts with a line from some other poem. Ignored.
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XXIII.
Spring cricket singing,
raindrops softly pattering
on my umbrella—
I would walk forever in this,
a night perfumed with flowers.
Prompt: Write a poem about or to a superhero. Ignored.
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XXII.
The frozen crabapple
brilliant pink in a white world
blossoms set in ice:
the nature of blooming is
always a bit dangerous.
Prompt: Write a poem in which two things have a fight.
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XXI.
朝露に In the morning dew,
吹き出している growing, sprouting up and out
青い草 the youngbluefresh grass
うつせみの世に in this cicada-shell world,
春がやってきた! Spring has thoroughly arrived!
Prompt: write a poem that focuses on a particular color.
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XX.
To the capital,
Hitomaro was called up,
but, in the leaving,
his wife flew up, and,
left him behind.
Prompt: write a poem that recounts a historical event. This “event” is recounted in Man’yōshū II:207-212. You can read Edwin Cranston’s very nice translation online here (p. 224 - 228).
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XIX.
Anxiety hunts,
nibbling at my toes; hunting,
my life each moment.
I would lose this hunting ghost,
yet who am I without it?
Prompt: write a poem about something that haunts you. Then, change the word “haunt” to “hunt.”
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XVIII.
To become a fern,
her dearest wish—curling green,
frond in the forest,
untroubled by former cares:
may this email find you gone.
Prompt: write a poem in which the speaker expresses a desire to become someone or something else and explains why.
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XVII.
His guitar riffing,
surfing with the alien,
Joe Satriani
wins an intergalactic
battle of the bands for Earth.
Prompt: write a poem inspired by a piece of music.
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XVI.
On brown, sunbaked hills,
butterscotch ponderosa
hiding prickly pears
grasshoppers buzzing loudly—
the heart becomes smooth sandstone
Prompt: write a poem about place or object with a final, more abstract line.
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XV.
The package arrived,
sent to me from overseas,
covered with eggplants,
fifty dollars in eggplants,
inside was gifted friendship.
Prompt: write a poem inspired by a stamp.
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XIV.
I like the way the rain comes down
I like the way it patters on the roof and on the glass
I like the way the world goes still
I like the way we press our noses on the windows
I like the way we read a book all curled up
I like the way we wait
I like the way the puddles form
I like the way the raindrops ripple
I like the way water settles into the dirt
I like the way the earth smells
I like the way it fills with life and greenness
I like the way my feet fit into the mud
I like the way it squishes between my toes
I like the way the rain comes down, but best of all
I like the way it makes me live.
Prompt: write a poem of at least ten lines using anaphora.
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XIII.
Waka, they say, must rhyme,
Back in Hamanari’s time—
Rhyme should be like wine,
There, at the end of line,
Something pure and clear—refined.
Prompt: write a poem with rhyme.
n.b. This poem is a joke for me specifically, since I suspect that the average reader is not particularly interested in Fujiwara no Hamanari and very early book of poetic criticism. Instead, I offer three cheers for Hamanari, who, for all his opinions, was an incredibly bad poet.
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The dog on the floor
Waits patiently by the door,
Longing for a ghost,
Do you bark for your loved one
Or is it just the postman?
Prompt: write a poem inspired by a tall tale. Ignored.
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XI.
The wind blew spring in and the cobwebs out of my heart.
Prompt: Write a monostich (one line poem).
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X.
WANT A REAL GOLD FISH?
do they make fish of fool’s gold?—shiny and brittle,
glittering with falsity: this fish is a fake. or perhaps
it comes with a certificate. or contract.
a proof. this, here, genuine. a 14 carat fish.
THEY WILL BE GIVEN AWAY
free for the low price of your time and energy! give away,
given away, means no longer wanted. a loss of value,
poor stock performance. the investors won’t have it.
better hand it off to the plebs; they won’t know.
SATURDAY IN THE PARK
saturday, free day, free fish on saturday!
come to the park and get your fish,
fresh from the pond, take any one you like
as long as it’s golden.
Take a Receptacle With You and the Finny Ones Will be Yours Without Charge.
bring a bowl, bring a plate, bring your baskets,
any type will do. the Finny Ones are waiting for you.
there is no charge for them, take them.
take the finny ones and go….
Prompt: Write a poem based on one of the curious headlines, cartoons, and other journalistic tidbits featured at Yesterday’s Print. I used this one.
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IX. Ode to the Ripe Tomato I Found Out of Season
You,
bright red and surprising,
succulent
round and
ripe—
a tomato, hiding
unnoticed, on
the grocery store
shelf. Still
fat with summer’s
sweetness. I took
you home, my love,
to sit, treasured
on the counter,
waiting,
for an afternoon
snack,
eaten over
the sink, juice
running down
my arms and
dripping
off my elbows—
the messy
manifestation
of adoration, us,
together. I ate you
plain, no salt
required to flatter
your taste: sugary
brilliance and
I remembered sunlit
lifetimes, sweat
on the concrete
and tomato seeds in
my teeth, you,
the taste of sun here
in my
winter-pale kitchen,
a forgotten treasure
just for
me.
Prompt: write an ode celebrating an everyday object with inspiration from Pablo Neruda.
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