Ring, ring, ring

Poetry Telephone Game Wrap-up, Part 1

Below you’ll find the the first half of the results from our poetry telephone game! Rather than giving you 16 poems all at once, I decided to break the results up into two emails in the hopes that you’ll be able to savor the poems more. For anyone who missed my earlier posts, the gist of the poetry telephone game is this . . . I kicked things off by writing a poem, then sent my poem to the next participant in line, who borrowed one or more elements of my poem and incorporated them into a poem of their own, which was then sent tot he next participant, who repeated that process, and so on.

If you would like a prompt to play around with today, then I suggest that you pick a poem from this lineup that speaks to you and use an element of that poem (a line, the title, a theme, an image, a word) to catalyze a poem of your own. Or if you’re feeling frisky, borrow elements from multiple poems or maybe even all the poems, and see what you come up with. Please share your resulting poems in the comments thread, and let us know which poet served as your muse! I’m sure all of these poets would be happy to hear your praise of or reflection on their poems, as well. I hope you enjoy this cascade of poetry as much as I did. I’ll get part 2 to you within a week or so.

Because I Walk Here Every Day

by Lisa Jensen

Every day
the same farm
same barn
same fields
same feet
same fence
same forest
same moss
same stream
same fresh gusts
of astonishment. 

Because I Wake Here Every Day

by

LeeAnn Pickrell

First I sip the coffee, strong and milky,
then I greet the maple tree,
lush in its greenness now,
bump noses with the cat,
plump up the pillows and sit back
hesitant to start the day
but willing to say hello.

I Wake Here

by

Loralee Clark

Measure my life in moments
of generosity, of patience, in
tune with those outside
myself, doing what needs

to be done: light a candle
say the words, bring
the food, pass the water

sprinkle the seed, split
the wood, set the 
boundaries, shape my
heart.

Superbloom

by

Rebekah Jensen

I wake here to sweet revolt—  
the sunflowers have taken heart
when we cannot.

They stand by the thousands
across broken land, bobbing
over bunchgrass, gilding the hills.

They have decided the thing to do
is witness, and not kneel,
and that is what is happening—

as arnica shrivels, as the sky brings
no water, as young ravens
bully our ears.

Can we not, all together,
come alive? Plant our feet
on the parched ground,

shoulders strong and greening?
Let us raise our hands
in a show of petals.

Altogether, Again

by

Emily Kaminsky

Alas, not thousands
But millions
Were required.

In defeat, 
Reduced to wraiths,
Aged, withered,
Brittle and bent,
The stalks that once 
Shouldered lofty ideals
Collapse under their own weight.

Once golden, now burnt
Their faces droop downward
Dropping their progeny tear-like
On to the fecund earth
Where they await 
Seasonal revolution.

When storm clouds burst,
And soil loosens,
The millions beget of those thousands
Will come alive.

The next generation,
Once conceived 
In despair,
Will revolt anew. 

Hope and action
Will bloom,
Altogether, again.

Altogether, Again

by

Keith Aron

Choreography cannot be blamed.
The outcome remains the same,
preordained. 

We come together only
to fall apart.
Then come apart only
to fall together again.
This is the dance of history
throughout humanity.

Metronomic and mellifluous,
we sway until we
step a little too lively
and find we are soaring,
roaring in our crescendo
before diving like swans
into the ballyhoo of bravado.
 
There, ensconced in the depths
of darkest despair,
We lament our talent
for rhyming with insanity and
repeating so grandly
a timeless tragedy.

But with patience and grace
only befitting infinity,
we are called ever so sweetly
by the spiral’s siren, and
in coming home, the hell
that is also heaven
celebrates our return.
 
So, we practice our dance steps
and we promise to learn
a little more each time we come
altogether, again.

All Together Now

by

Larry Brickner-Wood

Round and Round we go,
dancers swirling in cosmic circles
moving together to harmonious rhythm
Heard and unheard.

Whirling in healing moon light
they move sweetly
through this first Autumn night.

Outside this circle of drums and dancers,
the world moves on, erecting tiny boxes
to constrain our joy and prevent
our best angels from escaping.

Round and round we go,
Moving to an everlasting flow.

“Dance with your kind. Stay in your lanes.
Feast with those who look like you, pray like you,
Walk like you and love like you.”
Their kingdom worships sameness, homogeneity
and they don’t care to learn new dances.

In this circle, we are building a kin-dom of rainbow people,
dancing to the beats of our ancestors, and our own drummers,
creating our own dances from the hearts we blend together.

Here we will dance to music created by joy and justice.
We will dance to the rhythms of kindness and peace.
We will drum with the power of a future that is possible.
We will sing with the voices of love.

Round and round we go,
as we dance we continue to grow.

When the monsters and torch carriers come,
we will dance, lightly and with passion,
and invite them to join us.
There is room for all.

Round and round we go…

All Together Now

by

Chuck

Red yellow black & white.
Arc your borders where you might.

But please use a pencil
As you sketch your stencil

my pink pearl is my delight.