PAD Challenge 2020 – Recap

I decided to take stock this morning and look back at what I wrote this month. 36 poems and 7 starts (that may turn into poems at some point). I even like 4 of them! Most of the poems I’ve gone on to publish in journals or anthologies have started from seeds planted during these poem-a-day challenges.

I recently submitted a revised version of my poetry manuscript, and the majority of poems in it also started from the monthly challenges I’ve completed in previous years. I realize prompts don’t work for every writer, but they have been an amazing motivator for me, and also help me explore writing in new forms or about different topics than I’m normally drawn to.

All of this to say, even in the midst of one of the most stressful and disorienting months I’ve ever experienced, poetry has been a respite. I know it always will be.

To anyone who has read or commented on my work this month, thank you! I am grateful. I always write for myself first, but it’s encouraging to know something I’ve created and shared resonates in some small way with someone else.

Next comes editing and revising. A different kind of fun! But not until June. The words need time to age and settle a bit. First I plan to read more of the poems others have created this month, and dig in to the MANY poetry books I’ve purchased in the last several weeks. I firmly believe every day is better with poetry, but never has that seemed truer than now.

green leafed plant on sand

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

PAD 2017 – Day 18

The peeps at NaPoWriMo central are trying to spark invention today with a prompt to write a poem that incorporates neologisms. Seemed a good fit with the Writer’s Digest two-for-Tuesday prompt to write a poem about either life or death, or both. My mind went to creation thoughts, of love and words.

Tip of the Tongue

To beatify is to make blessed. I, ungodly, search for it in you. Exalted. Blissful. Words as comely as their meaning. Feathery sounds, like your eyelashes brushing against my thigh. Our names together, sapid on tip of the tongue. Utter the euphonious and climb closer to harmony. Say something into being. Create a word like a life. Melodianic. Symphonosis. Ecstoxication. How many words get us higher in languages we don’t know? In tonguepaths we haven’t traced yet?

 

Apparently it’s spring, but today’s looking pretty darn wintry in my parts. Thinking about an Alberta writer to highlight today, and wishing for warmth, I thought of this poem, “First Hot Day” by Edmonton-based poet Claire Kelly.