Michelle Garren Flye's Blog, page 22

National Poetry Month, Day 14, Verse 14

I just re-read what I have so far. It’s actually quite good. I may have to re-write here and there.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 13, Verse 13

Trying to figure out where this one came from. Like all of these verses, though, it emerged while I was drawing. It’s also quite pertinent to my life right now. What do I wish for? What are my expectations about those wishes? I’m hardly what my mother once called a “spring chicken”, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with this life. I’m not even really started on the fun part yet.

National Poetry Month, Day 12, Verse 12

I’m starting to think I’m not really breaking the renga rules by writing it all myself when you’re supposed to have at least two poets interchanging verses. It’s like a duality within me is emerging. On the one hand, I love all the beauty and innocence. On the other, I see it rushing headlong into the night…

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 11, Verse 11

Spring, man. It gets into your blood, makes you want things. Beware.

National Poetry Month, Day 10, Verse 10

Last night during my most productive time (the hours of 11 p.m.-1 a.m.) I discovered I’d left my iPad at work. Those might be my most productive hours, but I don’t go wandering the streets during them. (I did briefly consider going to fetch my iPad as it is only a couple of miles away but discarded that almost immediately.) So I took a night off, which was fine because I already had this one mostly done. Still, it made me realize how closely knit my process of drawing (which I do exclusively on my iPad) and writing are now. I had my laptop. I could have written a verse or two. Maybe, anyway. I’m beginning to understand where this thing is leading me. But it didn’t feel right. So I guess I better not leave my iPad at work anymore.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 9, Verse 9

I love this flower. In the midst of so much white and yellow, this flower dares to bloom in full color. But it also reminds me of our headlong rush through life. Innocence only lasts so long. And once it’s gone, we are never the same.

National Poetry Month, Day 8, Verse 8

Trying to add a few twists and turns and not just have this a straightforward ode to spring joy. Hold onto your seatbelts. I have no real plan, just going where the flowers take me!

Poem and Illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 7, Verse 7

I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to see this little conglomeration of some of my favorite wildflowers on my walk the other day. I actually almost walked past it, but I stopped and went back to snap a picture. I had the haiku pretty much written by the time I got home. I love it when it happens like that. Matsuo Basho said something about writing poetry which unfortunately has not stuck with me, but it was something about not allowing space between inspiration and writing. To just write the thing. (Can’t you just imagine Master Basho standing over you with his cane and yelling, “JUST WRITE THE THING!” lol)

So that’s what I did.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 6, Verse 6

I got up this morning and looked at the illustration I was working on last night (a bit late) and it wasn’t finished and I panicked…until I remembered that I started that one for tomorrow because today’s was already finished! This is what happens when you stay up too late being creative. Especially at my age!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. I had fun playing with it since I did have some extra time. It’s a bit different for me. I used some different iPad “brushes”.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 5, Verse 5

Not much explanation needed for this one. I found these rather jovial flowers while on my walk the other day. They remind me of court jester hats. I fell in love, of course, and had to add them to the spring renga.

Poem and illustration copyright Michelle Garren-Flye 2022