M Christine Delea's Blog, page 48

I Come From A Place So Deep Inside America It Can't Be Seen by Kari Gunter-Seymour

I Come From A Place So Deep Inside America It Can't Be Seen

by Kari Gunter-Seymour

published in her 2020 book, A Place So Deep Inside America It Can't Be

Seen, Sheila-Na-Gig Editions

White oaks thrash, moonlight driftsthe ceiling, as if I'm under water.Propane coils, warms my bones.

Gone are the magics and songs,all the things our grandmothers buried—piles of feathers and angel bones,

inscribed by all who came before.When I was twelve, my cousinscalled me ugly, enough to make i...

Iron Woman by Diane Glancy

Iron Woman

by Diane Glancy

published in her 1990 book by the same name

I knew I came from a different place,

a story cut apart with scissors.

I would find a piece of rust in the morning

or a shape in the field through a fog.

I would hear a broken language

as if spoken by a woman

with a bird’s nest on her head,

long pieces of iron welded for her buckskin.

She wears a mosquito mask,

a crooked twig for a nose.

Her teeth sewn together with close white threads.

I hear her small voice

from the bir...

Saint Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell

Saint Francis and the Sow

by Galway Kinnell

The bud stands for all things, even for those things that don’t flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing; though sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on its brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing; as Saint Francis put his hand on the creased forehead of the sow, and told her in words an...

What Plants Can Do: Poetry Prompt

A commercial for The Green Planet on PBS, besides being visually stunning, also prompted this week's prompt.

While showing video of gorgeous plants in action, these three words pop up on the scene: Seduce, Conspire, Destroy--not words one normally associates with plants!

This led me to find some other verbs that plants do, and that is part of this week's prompts.

Write a poem and try to use all of the words below in your poem. Your poem would not be about plants, but you should mention at l...

Text by Andrea Hollander

Text

for D.H.

by Andrea Hollander

published in Kosmos Journal, Autumn 2021

My friend tells me in a text that his cat has stopped eating. She’s in her last week, he writes, and while I am reading this, another text chirps in: Or last days, it says. I consider calling him. I’ve been where he is—on the precipice of such grief, the kind that people who don’t have pets dismiss. Shouldn’t we find a better word? Pets, as if all they’re for is us to stroke their warm bodies, welcome t...

Imagine That!: Poetry Prompt

Read the poem posted today on this very same blog (and many of the others) to see how wonderful poems that are pure imagination can be.

Honestly, I had never stopped to think what Mrs. Buddha and Mrs. God would do in any circumstance until reading Patricia McMillen's poem. Now? My head cannot stop picturing new espresso machines and red eggs!

This week's writing prompt takes today's poem as inspiration.

Imagine two people who do not exist in this realm or any other meeting up. In McMillen's...

Mrs. Buddha Calls on Mrs. God by Patricia McMillen

Mrs. Buddha Calls on Mrs. God

by Patricia McMillen

published in New Ohio Review, 2000

Tea or coffee? asks Mrs. God, hopeful

for an excuse to fire up her brand-new

espresso machine, a gift from Mr. God

last Christmas (he said it was from Santa,

their little joke). Mrs. Buddha can’t

decide. So many ways to burn water!

she marvels, wondering if it’s polite

to marvel, here in Heaven. Certainly

it would be bad form back in Nirvana

but everything’s so different here—why,

outside the front gate, di...

Since Nine O'Clock by C.P. Cavafy

Since Nine O’Clock

by Constantine P. Cavafy

Half past twelve. Time has gone by quicklysince nine o'clock when I lit the lampand sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,without speaking. Completely alone in the house,whom could I talk to?

Since nine o'clock when I lit the lampthe shade of my young bodyhas come to haunt me, to remind me

of shut scented rooms,of past sensual pleasure; what daring pleasure.And it's also brought back to mestreets now unrecognizable,bustling nigh...

Second Person: Poetry Prompt

Read Catherine Klatzker's award-winning poem in today's other blog post.

Then, write a poem in second person.

Although you should write about something from your own life (we will get to that in a second), use the second person perspective. Many writers find it easier to write about difficult experiences by using "you" instead of "I," and the use of "you" pulls the reader in by making her/him/they a more active participant. It does not work with every piece of writing, but when it works, as it...

What It Was Like by Catherine Klatzker

What It Was Like by Catherine Klatzker

published in Split This Rock

2016, 2nd Prize in their Abortion Rights Poetry Contest

The world was always a place of silence,of congenital shame—even before those daysin 1967, four years before you met your love. Yourstrength grew belatedly, fertilized as it was in the

knowledge that you were nothing. Your life didnot matter to anyone, except to hurt you.

~

Every time you awake in your hospital bed

men in white ...