A Poem and a Prompt

Whether just starting as a poet, or well-experienced, you can learn by imitation. Choose a poem by another poet, classic or modern, and write a poem in the same style. There's a few ways you could approach this:

• Write a poem as a direct response to the subject.
• Write your own poem inspired by the topic.
• Follow the poetry form only.

Here's an example of one of my early poems. I personalized Emily Dickinson's "This is My Letter to the World." I kept it in a similar style, and thought: What would I say to the world?

My Letter to the World

What do I have to say to the world
That all but deserted me?
Would anyone listen to a single soul
Through the unheard art of poetry?

Although surrounded by others,
Wanting my voice to be heard,
I’m often isolated
For no one will hear my words.

Can I make a difference in someone’s life,
As others did in mine?
Will anyone read the simple words
That I wrote in my spare time?

I may be a shy, quiet person
But I have a message of my own;
Won’t someone come and discover
The soul within my poems.

The message of my poem remains true today. I want my voice, my poems, to be heard. Which is why I am giving away a free copy of my new poetry book, Chiaroscuro. One week left to enter. Go here to the blog post with the Rafflecopter giveaway.

I'd love it if you shared your own poem based on the prompt.

Chiaroscuro Book Give-a-Way!

This is your chance to win a copy of Chiaroscuro.

CHIAROSCURO is a poetry book about the contrast and balance between light and dark. It’s a journey through a crumbling world that leaves a gritty taste. It shines light on the edge of awareness where dark magic wars with childish innocence.

These poems range from internal conflict to worldwide war to creatures of myth, but all follow the themes of finding havens of light in dark days, persisting despite the odds. The light is only brighter for the darkness that surrounds it. 

Winner will receive a PDF copy of Chiaroscuro. This is my first Rafflecopter giveaway. If it goes well, I'll do another! Enter below. Ask if you have any questions.

If you happen to already have a copy (thank you!), you can still enter and gift it to a friend. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

It’s a Brand New May

April is over. I challenged myself to write one new poem a day, and 26 blog posts for the AtoZ challenge. I’m happy to say that now only did I succeed, I blew it out of the water. This was my most successful poetry month. Last year I had the same poetry goal. My numbers:

Blog posts: 26

poems written: 41 (last year 19)

words of poetry written: 2512 (last year 1332)

What would I do different?

I didn’t spend much time visiting other bloggers doing the A to Z challenge. Next year I’ll interact more. I did find a few new blogs to follow, and hopefully got a few friends in return.

My own favorite posts:

C is for Chiaroscuro
F is for Fairies and Fudge
I is for Imagination
Q is for Quotes
R is for Rain
U is for Unique

Fellow bloggers who participated:

Sylvia Van Bruggen: Writer, Artist, Play Instigator
Writing Off the Edge
Untethered Realms
Writing in Wonderland

Thank you to everyone who visited, left comments, and gave support. I couldn’t have done this on my own.

Now What?

My goal is to transfer that productivity to my fiction. I’m going to keep it quite doable this month, and match my poetry. So 2500 words added to my novels.

As for blogging, I’m going to blog once a week, with updates on my poetry and fiction, as well as life in general. I hope you stay with me.

April was also a great month, as my first ever poetry book was published April 23. Chiaroscuro is available directly from SynergEbooks, and on Amazon.com and B&N.com.

Z is for Zero Hour

As today is the last of the A to Z challenge, and also the final day of poetry month, I wrote a poem about an ending. But this isn't "The End". Expect me back here blogging about once a week. It won't be all poetry all the time. I'll expand back to include other topics such as fantasy, books, and life. I hope you've enjoyed this month's journey. I'll do a recap next week.

Fate

Five doomed us—

A council of greed

turned to the dark arts

in their attempts to cheat death,

but only gods can grant immortality.

Foresight could have saved us…

the oracle's visions

blinded by gold,

she bought a ship

and left us to our fates.

Thrice the waves came,

each more deadly than the last…

slammed through walls,

flooded streets,

pushed us to the heart of our island.

Too little, too late,

a sacrifice was chosen

to appease the scorned gods:

I was merely a child

thrown into volcano's maw

One last desperate prayer,

I cried out in terror

as I fell to certain doom:

this wasn't my fault,

wasn't my fate!

Zero hour had come…

Hades embraced me,

blessed my sacrifice;

I arose a phoenix,
reborn as Atlantis crumbled.

Phoenix Press (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Y is for Youth

The child has a special gift, seeing the world with different eyes. Too many of us grow up and stop believing.

The Child's Gift

Mama,

can you smell?

my teddy bathed in wildflowers

Mama,

can you feel?

this rock has a heartbeat

Mama,

can you hear?

the flap of dragonwings

Mama,

can you see?

the fairy sitting in the tree

Mama,

can you taste?

there's magic in my lemonade

Mama,

did you know?
an angel watches over me

X is for eXtras

In Scott Westerfeld's Extras, each person has their own news feed. But with so many feeds, not everyone will get noticed. Even in today's world, anyone can have a blog, a Facebook page. It can be easy to feel lost in the crowd, unnoticed, merely an extra. Even before blogs, when I was first writing poetry in high school and trying to get published, I penned this poem about wanting to be heard:

My Letter to the World

What do I have to say to the world

That all but deserted me?

Would anyone listen to a single soul

Through the unheard art of poetry?

Although surrounded by others,

Wanting my voice to be heard,

I’m often isolated

For no one will hear my words.

Can I make a difference in someone’s life,

As others did in mine?

Will anyone read the simple words

That I wrote in my spare time?

I may be a shy, quiet person

But I have a message of my own;

Won’t someone come and discover

The soul within my poems.

Once I had the word Extra stuck in my head while planning this post, there's one other thing that kept coming to mind. "Extra! Extra! Read all about it." More news trying to get attention, the newsies selling their papers on the streets. So here's my new poem on topic:

Extra Extra!

sellin' news

on the streets

tryin' to stand out in the crowd

to be heard o'er the noise

weighin' the need for food,

a roof overhead,

against standin' up

for what's right

just one boy, one voice,

the big man won't hear,

but one becomes legion--

united we change the world

If you haven't seen it, the movie Newsies follows these boys, in their struggle to stand up to the presses. And since Newsies is a musical, I simply must include a song.

P.S. If you haven't yet read Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series, check it out. Awesome YA dystopian series. My husband and I bought the whole set after being unable to put down the sample chapters. So compelling.

W is for Walt Whitman

Whitman is my favorite classic poet.

Walt Whitman was born May 31, 1819. He was the second of nine children, four of whom were disabled. At age eleven he was pulled out of school to help support his family. At age twelve he began to learn the printing business and was mainly self-taught. His collection of poems Leaves of Grass, which he began working on in 1848, was so unusual in form and content that no commercial publisher would publish it. In 1855 he published his first collection, consisting of twelve poems, at his own expense. His editing job was the only way he kept himself afloat.

Despite his rough upbringing in poverty, Whitman took his experiences and used them to give a foundation to his writing. He could not know and truly appreciate the wonders of life without first experiencing the grime. And that he did. Whitman was a writer that the average worker could relate to. Because of his experiences, his poetry speaks to us all.

And we listen because he knows what it is to live. He has begged in the gutters with the worst of us, and he has soared through the heavens with the best.

Excerpt from Song of the Rolling Earth

A song of the rolling earth, and of words according,
Were you thinking that those were the words, those upright lines?
         those curves, angles, dots?
No, those are not the words, the substantial words are in the
         ground and sea,
They are in the air, they are in you.

Were you thinking that those were the words, those delicious sounds
         out of your friends' mouths?
No, the real words are more delicious than they.

"Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and mothers of families. ... reexamine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem."

~ Walt Whitman