Saturday, June 17, 2017

Prompt # 282 –The Canzone

The canzone is a form of poetry that we don’t hear a lot about. “Canzone” derives from cantio, which means song in Italian. This form of poetry is a medieval Italian prototype of the sonnet. Rooted in the Provençal song or ballad, it was more fully developed and practiced in Italy and was popularized through the writings of Petrarch and Dante. 

Canzones are lyric poems that don’t have the same, conventional rhyme scheme as sonnets. For the most part, they are written in various stanzaic arrangements and usually conclude with an envoy (a short stanza at the end of the poem that brings the poem to closure, often with an address to a real or imagined person or as a comment on the preceding parts of the poem).

In structure, sonnets are typically set in a pattern of fourteen lines; however, canzones may contain from seven to twenty lines. Canzones may also contain anywhere from one to seven stanzas and may include a range of rhyme schemes. (Any rhyme scheme may be used, but for starters, rhymed couplets are suggested.) Additionally, each line in a canzone contains ten or eleven syllables, but this can also vary. Greater flexibility in structure makes canzones easier to write than sonnets.

This week, let’s try writing our own versions of canzones.


1. Begin by reading Dante Alighieri’s “Canzone 1,” in which he creates a fourteen-line poem with ten syllable lines. The language is archaic, but reading the poem and counting out the syllabic pattern may be helpful in giving you an idea of how you might structure your own poem.

    Ladies that have intelligence in love,
    Of my own lady I will speak with you;
    Not that I hope to count her praises through,
    But telling what I may, to ease my mind.
    And I declare that when I speak thereof
    Love sheds such perfect sweetness over me
    That if my courage failed not, certainly
    To him my listeners must be all resigned.
    Wherefore I will not speak in such large kind
    That mine own speech should foil me, which were base;
    But only will discourse of her high grace
    In these poor words, the best that I can find,
    With you alone, dear dames and damozels:
    'Twere ill to speak thereof with any else.

Dante’s rhyme scheme (abbcdeeccffcgg) is intricate, but because there’s no fixed rhyme pattern for this form of poetry, you can feel free to invent your own or to leave out rhyme entirely.

2. My suggestion is that you plan on a fourteen-line poem that ends with two lines (envoy) designed to bring the poem to closure. Work toward ten syllables in each line. 

3. In keeping with lyricism, try to create a sense of music in your poem and be sure to choose a topic that will lend itself to poetic musicality. Some topics that may work for you include: nature, seasonal subjects, a particular place or geography, love and other relationships, and people you know or admire.

4. For this prompt (a fourteen-line poem with ten syllables in each line) think in terms of the following (and, if you decide to write more than one stanza, follow the pattern for each). Remember that this is a simplification of the form and only a suggestion.

Define your subject and how you will "converse" with your readers. 
(Lines 1 & 2)

Present the central theme, question, or conflict. 
(Lines 3 & 4)

Incorporate your mood, feeling, and tone. 
(Lines 5 & 6)

Provide details on your subject. 
(Lines 7 - 12) 

Close with a couplet that brings the poem (or stanza) to closure. 
(Lines 13 & 14)

Note: If you write more than one stanza, this should leave an opening for further expansion.  

5. If you elect not to rhyme, you might want to think about rhyming just at the end by concluding with an envoy that’s a rhymed couplet (two lines of poetry in which the last words in each line rhyme).

6. Of course, if you find these suggestions in any way inhibiting, let your own creativity and your own poem guide you.


1. Because a lot of this form may be left to the poet’s discretion, be sure to remember that it is essentially a form of lyric poetry and work with that in mind (avoid narrative poetry for this).

2.  Create a sense of music in your poem through alliteration, assonance, consonance, anaphora, end rhyme or internal rhyme, meter, modulation, rhythm, and resonance.

3. Try iambic verse—an iamb is a metrical foot consisting of one short (or unstressed) syllable followed by one long (or stressed) syllable. Note: u/ (unstressed/stressed syllables) sounding like ta-DAH.

4. Observe all the usual caveats for writing good poetry (create strong images, avoid the passive voice, watch out for articles and prepositional phrases that your poem can live without, and be careful of too many adjectives and details).

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Prompt #281 – Guilt and Blame


Guilt is typically a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some something you've done that's offensive, criminal, or otherwise wrong, and may be real or imagined. Shame is a feeling rooted in conscious avowal of doing wrong (something dishonorable or inappropriate) to someone else. Often, shame and guilt are experienced together. It’s not unusual for a guilty individual to blame himself or herself for a wrong done to another. Sometimes, at the heart of shame is a feeling of inadequacy; and those feelings of inadequacy are sometimes manifested in assigning blame to someone else.

Have you ever felt especially guilty about something you’ve said, done, or didn’t do? Have you ever been blamed for something you didn’t do, or have you wrongly blamed someone else? We all feel guilty at one point or another, and we all accept or assign blame. This week let’s take a look at guilt and blame and write about an actual time in our lives when we experienced either or both.


1. Think about a time in your life when you felt ashamed or guilty, or think about a time when you blamed someone or were blamed by someone else (rightly or wrongly). What happened? How did you judge yourself? How did others judge you? How do you judge yourself now?

2. Free write for a while, and see what happens.

3. Let your free write sit for an hour or so, and then go back to it. Read it carefully and select a dominant or important point that you made about guilt and/or blame. Reflect on that point.

4. Begin a poem based on your memories and your free write.

5. Think about remorse and redemption. Did it figure in your guilt/blame experience? In Stephen Dobyns’s poem “Bleeder” (example below), there is no sense of remorse or guilt. How does this strengthen the poem and make it even more disturbing? Think about how you can you ramp up the power of your poem.


1. The first line of your poem should be inviting, shockingly interesting or comforting—draw your readers in from the first moment of your poem.

2. Write with an authentic voice—the way something is said is infinitely more important than the intellect of what is said. Be aware of your attitude toward the subject matter and how your attitude becomes part of the subject.

3. Create a sense of intimacy in the poem, a revealing of something you’ve never “told” before. Remember that your readers may not have had the same experience, but most will have experienced similar feelings.

4. Try to write in the active, not the passive, voice. To do that, it can be helpful to remove “ing” endings and to write in the present tense (this will also create greater immediacy).

5. Be on the lookout for prepositional phrases that you might remove (articles & conjunctions too).

6. As you work on your poem, think about adjectives and which ones your poem can live without. (Often the concept is already in the noun, and you don’t need a lot of adjectives to convey your meaning.)

7. Avoid clichés (and, while you’re at it, stay away from abstractions and sentimentality).

8. Show, don’t tell—through striking imagery, a strong emotional center, and an integrated whole of language, form and meaning.

9. Experiment with line and stanza breaks. This will help expose weak spots as well as unnecessary repetitions and wordiness.

10. Work from the personal toward the universal. Think about how your poem will invite readers to relate to your experience (even if the details are different from experiences of their own). Create a resonance for your readers that extends beyond the ending of your poem.



“Bleeder” by Stephen Dobyns
By now I bet he’s dead which suits me fine,                            
but twenty-five years ago when we were both
fifteen and he was camper and I counselor
in a straight-laced Pennsylvania summer camp
for crippled and retarded kids, I’d watch

him sit all day by himself on a hill. No trees
or sharp stones: he wasn’t safe to be around.
The slightest bruise and all his blood would simply
drain away. It drove us crazy—first
to protect him, then to see it happen. I

would hang around him, picturing a knife
or pointed stick, wondering how small a cut
you’d have to make, then see the expectant face
of another boy watching me, and we each knew
how much the other would like to see him bleed.

He made us want to hurt him so much we hurt
ourselves instead: sliced fingers in craft class,
busted noses in baseball, then joined at last
into mass wrestling matches beneath his hill,
a tangle of crutches and braces, hammering at

each other to keep from harming him. I’d look up
from slamming a kid in the gut and see him watching
with the empty blue eyes of children in sentimental
paintings, and hope to see him frown or grin,
but there was nothing: as if he had already died.

Then, after a week, they sent him home. Too much
responsibility, the director said.
Hell, I bet the kid had skin like leather.
Even so, I’d lie in bed at night and think
of busting into his room with a sharp stick, lash

and break the space around his rose petal flesh,
while campers in bunks around me tossed and dreamt
of poking and bashing the bleeder until he
was left as flat as a punctured water balloon,
which is why the director sent him home. For what

is virtue but the lack of strong temptation:
better to leave us with our lie of being good.
Did he know this? Sitting on his private hill,
watching us smash each other with crutches and canes,
was this his pleasure: to make us cringe beneath

our wish to do him damage? But then who cared?
We were the living children, he the ghost
and what he gave us was a sense of being bad
together. He took us from our private spite
and offered our bullying a common cause:

which is why we missed him, even though we wished
him harm. When he went, we lost our shared meanness
and each of us was left to snarl his way
into a separate future, eager to discover
some new loser to link us in frailty again.


Saturday, May 27, 2017

Prompt #280 – Narrative Poetry

On June 3rd, I’m going to moderate a panel for Passaic County Community College Poetry Center's “Celebrating the Poetic Legacy of Whitman, Williams, and Ginsberg: A Literary Festival and Conference.” (Click on the title for more information.) Our topic will be “The Narrative Tradition in Poetry.” We’ll look at the history of narrative poetry and discuss various aspects of the form, along with its relationship to lyric poetry and its future. It's quite an honor to be included in this festival and conference (after submitting a proposal for competitive vetting many months ago). I'm also delighted to have an opportunity to work with a group of distinguishes panelists—poets whom you've met here on the blog: Laura Boss, Diane Lockward, Edwin Romond, Joe Weil, and Michael T. Young. (Click on their names to visit these poets online.)

This prompt will take a look at narrative poetry and offer some suggestions and tips for writing a narrative poem of your own.

If you’ve heard of Beowulf, The Canterbury Tales, Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” or Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken,” you know something about narrative poetry. Narrative poems are like our favorite relatives—they like to tell stories.

Historically, poetry has its roots in an oral tradition that predates all other forms of modern communication. Before there were printed books, people told stories through narrative poems. Early narrative verse used rhythm, rhyme, repetition, and vivid language—easily remembered and recited and, arguably, the first examples of performance poetry.

Early narratives were ballads, epics, idylls, and lays. Many of these are long, especially examples such as Homer’s “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey,” and Tennyson’s “Idylls of the King.” Narrative poems have also been collected into interrelated groups, as with Chaucer’s “The Canterbury Tales.”

As a “genre,” narrative poetry has retained importance throughout literary history. Over the past thirty years, the form has made a comeback against lyric poetry, which dominated the last century. Contemporary narrative poems are dramatic and compelling and deal with personal histories, losses, regrets, and recollections. Today’s narrative poems often focus on emotionally intense moments; they are typically powered by imagery and buttressed by nuance in ways that distinguish them from prose memoirs.

Personal narrative poems (the type seen most often in today's poetry) initiate contact between poets and readers; they bring people together through mutual experiences—specific details may be different, but they “speak” to the shared situations of both poet and audience. Importantly, while they often delight and entertain, they can also teach us that we’re not alone.

Personal narratives sometimes fail to move beyond the anecdotal and simply recount an experience that the poet has had in much the same way that prose memoirs do. A great personal narrative, though, has to be larger and more meaningful than an anecdotal poem. In other words, a great personal narrative can’t rest on its anecdotal laurels and must do more than simply tell a story. It needs to approach the universal through the personal, it needs to mean more than the story it tells, and the old rule “show, don’t tell” definitely applies whether a narrative poem is an epic in the style of Homer, a collection of narratives as in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, a "mood" narrative as in Poe's "The Raven," or a personal narrative as in Frost's "The Road Not Taken."


1. Think about a story that you really want to tell: something that happened to you (or to someone you know), a memory that haunts you, a family legend, or a dream. It may also be completely fictional.

2. Make a list (or do a free write) in which you record the important details of the story you want to write. Include the main “characters” and a bit about their relationships to one another.

3. Decide upon the approach you’d like to take in your narrative: chronological, flashback, or reflective. In chronological, you structure your poem around a time-ordered sequence of events; in flashback, you write from a perspective of looking back; and in reflective, you write thoughtfully or “philosophically” about the story you tell.

4. Begin writing in the first person singular, but feel free to change that once you’ve completed a couple of drafts. The narrator of the poem doesn’t have to be you—you have the option of writing in the first, second, or third person. Consider a variety of perspectives before deciding.

5. Start with a “bang” by beginning with a startling detail (or part of your story). A good narrative poem doesn’t have to begin at the beginning of the story. Move the story forward (and look back) from whatever your “point of entry” may be.

6. Be aware that merely telling your story and arranging it in lines and stanzas won’t make it a poem. Think about the qualities of writing that make good poems good and include some of them in this poem.


1. Remember that narrative poems often fail because the poets have included too much detail.  Leave out details that might mean something to you but aren’t essential to the narrative you’ve chosen to tell.

2. Watch out for over-use of adjectives.

3. Don’t waste words introducing characters or describing scenes—jump in with both feet.

4. Don’t ramble. Be concise and get to the point. Yes, there should be a point to your narrative—something that’s something bigger than the experience, something with which readers will be able to relate. Along that line, be sure to leave room in your poem for the reader to enter and “belong.”

5. Don’t simply relate your narrative or tell your readers what they should feel. Your job is to show and not to tell. Avoid “emotion words” such as “anger”—bear in mind that when someone is angry he or she is more likely to slam a door than to say, “Hey, I’m angry.” You can show anger or any other emotion without ever using the words. Let actions and sensory images lead your readers to understand the emotions in the poem. As the writer of a personal narrative poem, it’s your job to include revealing details, not to interpret or explain them for your readers. You may want to avoid the passive voice, “to be” verbs, and “ing” endings as these can inhibit the process of showing rather than telling.

6. Set a tone for your narrative poem Tone in poetry is an overall feeling that inhabits every corner of your poem. Think about your story and the feeling with which you want your readers to leave the poem.

7. Think about the perspective from which you want to tell your story. Do you want to tell the story as if it were happening in the present (using the present tense)? Do you want to write from a perspective of looking back (past tense)? This is, of course, up to you and you will need to think about how use of the past or of the present tense will impact your poem.

8. Just as a short story includes rising action, a climax, and denouement or resolution, so should a personal narrative poem. Use of stanzas can be helpful in emphasizing the sequence of your poem. Be acutely aware that you’re writing a poem and not prose. Narrative poetry often springs from a prose impulse and becomes mired in prose-like details. Remember that you’re writing a poem and should be focused on imagery, figurative language, and the sound quality (alliteration, assonance, dissonance) of your work. Don’t become so engrossed in the story that you forget about the elements of good poetry!


"The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe

 "Beowulf" by an anonymous Anglo-Saxon poet

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Prompt #279 – The Cento

This prompt deals with a kind of poetry that we first explored on the blog seven years ago, in May of 2010. The form is called the Cento, a term that derives from the Latin word for patchwork (as in patchwork quilt). In poetry, a cento is a kind of collage poem made entirely of lines taken from poems by other authors. The rules are simple: no more than one line may be taken from any one poem; any number of quotes is acceptable; and centos may be rhymed or unrhymed. Though some poets adapt this form to include borrowed lines from other poets’ work along with lines of their own, a true Cento is composed only of lines from other sources.
Remember that “borrowing” other poets’ words is typically regarded as an honorific practice when the work is well done and sources are properly credited. Be sure to provide credits (usually at the end of your poem).
Historically, the cento is ancient. Early Greeks built poems from such works as The Iliad and The Odyssey. Roman poets composed centos taken from the works of Virgil, and Renaissance poets worked with lines from Petrarch and Cicero. Modern cento forms include variations (i.e., a single borrowed line that’s echoed throughout a poem), and today’s centos are often witty or ironic. 
Remember, this isn’t a prompt about “grand theft poetry”—it’s a prompt about how other poets’ writing can inspire your own.


1. Centos are fun to experiment with and are reasonably easy to “put together.” For this prompt activity, create a cento based on a particular idea or theme (don’t simply collage randomly). Use a poetry anthology if you have one handy. Alternatively, the Internet offers many poetry sites at which you can look for poems by poets or by titles and themes (you might want to try Poem Hunter).

2. Read the example poem below.
3. Next, read some poems by other poets (time-honored or more contemporary).

4. Let yourself be inspired gently—take whatever suggestions the poems you read might have to offer, but don’t be locked into anything.

5. Spend a lot of time, playing” with the ideas you gathered from other people’s poems. Where do they lead you? What moments of inspiration do they bring? How can you “piggy back” from these ideas into something spectacular of your own?

6. Be sure to reject anything that doesn’t fit the poem you begin to write and make sure that each line you use is taken from a different poem.

7. Remember that, although you’re assembling a selection of lines from various poems, your poem must makes sense. This is important!

8. Keep your poem short, don’t ramble.

9. After you’ve written a draft, look for “lifeless” parts of the poem and delete or rework them.

10. In the end, your new poem should bear little or no resemblance to any of the poems from which you’ve borrowed lines.

11. At the end, list each poet’s full name. Include (in quotation marks) the name of the poem from which you’ve borrowed.

1. Think of poetry at the line level.
2. Work on associative thinking and making connections among various poems.
3. Pay attention to tone, syntax, and mood.
4. Think about context, arrangement, and form in writing.
5. Examine how art can be disassembled and reassembled to create new works of art.  


That Was by Adele Kenny

That was the real world (I have touched it once),
which, though silent to the ear,
licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
where wings have memory of wings…

Ah, sweet! Even now in that bird’s song,
even now I may confess,
we are what life made us, and shall be –
more glory and more grief than I can tell.

All pleasures and all pains, remembering –
(I learnt the verbs of will, and had my secret).
These are the years and the walls and the door.
Now, whether it were by peculiar grace,

(long after the days and the seasons)—
better by far that you should forget and smile.
I lift my eyes in a light-headed credo,
then let you reach your hat and go.


Line 1: (Edwin Muir, “The Labyrinth”)
Line 2: (Percy Busshe Shelley, “Lines Written in the Bay of Lerici”)
Line 3: (T. S. Eliot, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”)
Line 4: (William Butler Yeats, “Upon a House Shaken by the Land Agitation")

Line 5: (Dante Gabriel Rossetti, “The Blessed Damozel”)
Line 6: (Alexander Pushkin, “I Loved You”)
Line 7: (Algernon Charles Swinburne, “At a Month’s End”)
Line 8: (Emily Bronte, “Stanzas”)

Line 9: (Wallace Stevens, “Sunday Morning”)
Line 10: (Dylan Thomas, “From Love’s First Fever To Her Plague”)
Line 11: (Elizabeth Bishop, “Visit to St Elizabeths”)
Line 12: (William Wordsworth, “Resolution and Independence”)

Line 13: (Arthur Rimbaud, “”Barbarian”)
Line 14: (Christina Rossetti, “Remember”)
Line 15: (Seamus Heaney, “ Remembered Columns”)
Line 16: (Hart Crane, “The Bridge”)

Copyright © 2017 by Adele Kenny. All rights reserved.

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Prompt #278 – Five Words or Phrases


It’s hard to believe that National Poetry Month (and all of April) will have come and gone as of Monday. The Music In It received several thousand hits during the month, and I’m grateful to all who visited and posted comments and poems. My special thanks go to Basil Rouskas of California for posting an amazing poem every single day!

There are still today and tomorrow left for National Poetry Month, but I thought I'd post for the rest of next week a couple of days early to stay in sync with posting on Saturday mornings. For our return to regular prompts, let's ease back with something that’s uncomplicated and enjoyable.


1. Pick a poem you really like. Read the poem twice, once silently, once aloud.

2. Jot down five words or phrases from the poem that “speak” to you in some way (touch you emotionally or capture your attention or imagination).

3. Reflect for a while on the words and phrases that you selected.

4. Write down any thoughts or images that the words or phrases you chose inspire.

5. Write a poem using one or more of the words or phrases and also include some of the thoughts and images they inspired.


Make sure the words and phrases you choose are compatible in terms of the content you develop.

Include only those selections that are absolutely pertinent, and use your own creativity to alter them.

Don’t try to imitate the poem you used as your inspiration. Make the poem uniquely your own.

There should be nothing superfluous in your poem: no extra words, no extra syllables. 

Avoid explanations of what you’ve written in your poem: trust your images.

Don’t undercut your poem’s “authority” by ending with trivia or a “so what” line that doesn’t make your readers gasp.

Don’t conclude with a sentimental or emotional statement (both sentiment and emotion may be heartfelt but, when they’re blatantly stated, they can detract from the power of your poem).

Don’t close the door on your poem; leave it slightly ajar.

Link the end of the poem to the beginning but not overtly—and don’t over-write.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Prompt #277 – National Poetry Month

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
– Robert Frost

It’s April again—where I live, the daffodils are in bloom, hyacinths have broken ground, and there are leaf buds on the lilacs. In addition to our natural world “rites of spring,” National Poetry Month begins today—a month-long celebration of poets and poetry.

Established by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month begins on April 1st and runs through April 30th.  This month-long "event" is held every April “to widen the attention of individuals and the media to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and concern.” During April, poets, poetry lovers, publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, and schools throughout the US celebrate poetry.

One of the challenges of NPM is to read and/or write a poem every day. So ... in the spirit of the observance, as I’ve done for the past several years, I offer you inspiration words/phrases and related poems for each of April’s thirty days.

This year, I’ve selected poems by poets whom I call friends—poets I know personally, have read with, spent time with, and respect. Links to the poems appear beneath each day in April after the inspiration words and the titles and poets’ names. You may wish to read, write, or do both. If you choose to write, be sure to extend the inspiration and travel away from the example poems. You’re not bound to any content or subject matter in the example poems—only the inspiration itself and however loosely you wish to interpret it.


1. Don’t feel compelled to match your content or style to the examples—in fact, do just the opposite and make your poems as different as you possibly can. The inspiration titles and the example poems are only intended to trigger some poetry-spark that’s unique to you, to guide your thinking a little—don’t let them enter too deeply into your poems, don’t let their content become your content.

2. Let your reactions to the inspiration phrases and poems surprise you. Begin with no expectations, and let your poems take you where they want to go.

3. Give the topics your own spin, twist and turn them, let the phrases trigger personal responses: pin down your ghosts, identify your frailties, build bridges and cross rivers, take chances!

4. Keep in mind that writing a poem a day doesn’t mean you have to “finish” each poem immediately. You can write a draft each day and set your drafts aside to work on later.

5. Whatever you do this month, find some time (a little or a lot) to enjoy some poetry!

As always, your sharing is welcome, 
so please don't be shy about posting your thoughts and poems as comments!

Regular prompts will resume on April 29th.

In the meantime, I wish you a wonderful and poetry-filled April!

Happy National Poetry Month!

April 1
Inspiration: Music
Example: “The Risk of Listening to Brahms” by Michael T. Young

April 2
Inspiration: The Tree of Life
Example: “Tree of Life” by Gail Fishman Gerwin

April 3
Inspiration: Through the Lens
Example: “The Lens of Fire” by Penny Harter

April 4
Inspiration: For the Love of …
Example: “For the Love of Avocados” by Diane Lockward

April 5
Inspiration: Finding Our Way
Example: “You Are My GPS” by Linda Radice

April 6
Inspiration: Seasons
Example: “I Hate to See October Go” by Laine Sutton Johnson

April 7
Inspiration: Parental Memories
Example: “Breakfront” by Bob Rosenbloom

April 8
Inspiration: Oz and Other Mythical Places
Example: “The Yellow Brick Road” By Donna Baier Stein

April 9
Inspiration: Wilderness
Example: “Let There Be a Wilderness” by R. G. Rader

April 10
Inspiration: A Place Remembered
Example: “Morning at the Elizabeth Arch” by Joe Weil

April 11
Inspiration: Loss & Grief
Example: “Grief” by Maria Mazziotti Gillan

April 12
Inspiration: Vacancies
Example: “Vacancy” by Tony Gruenewald

April 13
Inspiration: Reflections 
Example: “I Have a Theory about Reflection” by  Renée Ashley

April 14
Inspiration: Yes or No
Example: “Yes” by Catherine Doty

April 15
Inspiration: Teaching
Example: “Dream teaching” by Edwin Romond

April 16
Inspiration: Newspapers
Example: “The Star-Ledger” by B.J. Ward

April 17
Inspiration: Age
Example: “The Age” by Emily Vogel

April 18
Inspiration: Husbands & Wives
Example: “Once My Husband” by Priscilla Orr

April 19
Inspiration: What I Wanted
Example: “Thanksgiving” by Martin Jude Farawell

April 20
Inspiration: Silences
Example: “Silence” by David Crews

April 21
Inspiration: Fire
Example: “Built Fire” by Charlie Bondhus

April 22
Inspiration: Memorials
Example: “Trains: The Memorial” by Deborah LaVeglia

April 23
Inspiration: Seeing
Example: “How I Took That Picture” by Basil Rouskas

April 24
Inspiration: Evolution
Example: “Evolution” by Jessica de Koninck

April 25
Inspiration: Being Alive
Example: “The Grand Fugue” by Peter E. Murphy

April 26
Inspiration: People
Example: “Colored People” by Charles H. Johnson

April 27
Inspiration: Revelations
Example: “Revelation” by Charlotte Mandel

April 28
Inspiration: Streets as Metaphors
Example: “River Road, East Paterson” by Nancy Lubarsky

April 29
Inspiration: Rain (April Showers)
Example: “Things We Do and Don’t Say of the Rain” by Robert Carnevale (scroll down to poem)

April 30
Inspiration: Stillness
Example: “Still” by John McDermott (scroll down to poem)