What happens when the earth moves? I mean literally. Things shake, crumble collapse; everything known becomes changed, unfamiliar, disorienting. The very ground you stand upon becomes unsteady. What can you count on when that happens?
I want you to write about a situation where the earth moves under your feet. Maybe your significant other has been found to have their own significant other. Maybe your own body or that of a loved one turned traitor and a lump is found, or something that was easy and natural now involves pain and effort. Maybe your world view has been shattered and Everything You Know Is Wrong. Perhaps it's a crisis of faith. (Maybe it's even Donald Trump winning the White House.) Whatever it is, write a new poem about being shaken up, tossed about, made to doubt what you thought was solid. Then link up and visit other Toads. Don't wait until it's Too Late, baby. Feel the earth move and write about it.
Greetings.. seems a little quiet in the garden these days. I hope everyone is doing okay. I am almost over the strain of final examinations and I'm looking forward to my summer holidays. I expect to get back into writing during my time off.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful prompt Shay, and very appropriate. @Kerry: It's a difficult time to find the muse, I think, amid the poisonous furor which has led up to and still surrounds the changes stunning us all over here(and around the world as well.) Glad to hear you plan on getting back to writing, Kerry, though being able to read your collected works as they emerge on Skylover has kept me from missing your stellar poetry.
ReplyDeleteI have dredged up and revised an old one for this.
Online is extremely quiet. I agree with Joy, we all have battle fatigue. A timely prompt, Shay, when we live on a continent so removed from the one we thought we were living on. On facebook there was a photo of KKK on a bridge somewhere. We have been set back 50 years and the lunatics are in charge of the asylum.
ReplyDeleteI needed to vent about something other than election. Thanks for the prompt Shay.
ReplyDeleteMaybe tomorrow I will feel bad, but it's been a long, long time-46 years-since personally I've felt trodden on. So the only let down in my poem worth writing about was the poor fellow stuck behind me, stuck in traffic.
ReplyDeleteThe election? My vote didn't count, Texas is a blue state, given fact. But I have liked Hillary ever sense I first heard of her when Bill was running. I would have liked for her, we will be in for some sorry times with mr. trump (I don't capitalize his name), really sorry. Tonight I couldn't write about that.
..
It is very quiet - everyone seems subdued, as if they are expecting something to happen.
ReplyDeleteI've been caught up in all sorts of things and have to go out in a while - I just managed to find a spare 20 minutes to read. Next week will be a busy one too, as I will be off to Poland on Wednesday evening for a few days - back on Saturday. I hope to take some photos of Wroclav.
Had a little accident with my laptop this morning but it seems to be working - my rheumatic fingers are worse in the cold, damp weather and I dropped a cup, spilling raspberry tea all over some paperwork, with several drops disappearing into the keyboard. I don't know how I managed to concentrate on listening to first graders read this morning - they did cheer me up!
Kerry--yes, it's quiet, and I've been one of the quiet ones. Not sure why I haven't been feeling it as much. Your blog is looking good, I love it!
ReplyDeleteHedge--nothing wrong with dredging up old ones; we're here, aren't we? ;-)
Sherry--you may well be right about the battle fatigue.
Susie--all subjects, as long as the earth moves, are fair game!
Jim--hate to be the one to break it you, but Texas is a red state, one of the reddest.
Kim--been there, done that, and ruined my old notebook! Glad yours is still soldiering on! Maybe it likes raspberry tea.
Hi Shay and Kerry and Joy and all, just wanted to say hello. I am quiet. I am not okay, we are not okay, this is not okay. Our globe is in trouble.
ReplyDeleteMy mountain was defaced with horrendous racist, anti-Semitic, pro-Trump graffiti. I live in wacky hyper-liberal western Massachusetts.
Am thinking about the human capacity, my own capacity, to normalize pain.
Trying to sort things out. Haven't been writing much poetry though I have not completely stopped and do not plan to stop. I want to acknowledge that I haven't been participating much here but am grateful no one has voted to boot me as the result. Love to all of you. Stay lucid. xoxox M.
I love "stay lucid" - there is a poem there! And we couldnt do without you, Marian.
ReplyDeleteHi suppose poets are tired after the elections hype. Wishing a creative weekend to all
ReplyDeleteMuch love...
Wanted to participate but have been laid up with the worst cold I've ever had! Plus it was a hard one for me... Now, if Hillary would have won, I might have come up with something (sorry Pond, I know that comment can't be popular) Good thing I'm let to comment and most won't see it. :) Love you all. You inspire me all the time.
ReplyDelete...good thing I'm "last" to comment ... should have read
ReplyDeleteThe more you shall honor Me,
ReplyDeletethe more I shall bless you.
-the Infant Jesus of Prague
(<- Czech Republic, next to Russia)
trustNjesus, dear,
and wiseabove to Seventh-Heaven.
God bless your indelible soul.
The more you shall honor Me,
ReplyDeletethe more I shall bless you.
-the Infant Jesus of Prague
(<- Czech Republic, next to Russia)
trustNjesus, dear,
and wiseabove to Seventh-Heaven.
God bless your indelible soul.