NPM Day Eleven: Make a List

Here is a visual list of five varieties of daffodils on Goldfinch Farm.

Write a list poem.
When I first began writing Gratitude Lists, I quickly became aware of the fact that each one is really a little poem, that the seemingly unconnected items on the list spoke to and informed each other, created a magic in the randomness. And some days I would order them so they would either flow or crunch up against each other, intentionally poeming. I took up the discipline of gratitude lists at the same time I took up poetry as a discipline, and the two paths began to teach each other and to become intermingled.

In a list poem, what happens if “buy red ink for the printer” sits next to “write an apology to X for yelling at them” or next to “seek World Peace”? I’m fond of to-do lists as poems, but you can make a grocery list, a gratitude list, a vengeance list, a how-to-solve-the-problems-of-the-world list. Try a list of your favorite things, or things you see out your window.

Here’s mine, spontaneously:
April

is violet grape hyacinth
bluebells we called them
purple deadnettle
gill on the ground or the grass
violet myrtle

is golden forsythia flaming
in every hedgerow
yellow teeth of the lion
dotting the lawn and
a dozen kinds of daffodil

is pink skirts of cherry trees
whirling in breezes
rosy magnolia stately queen
pink orchards preparing
the fruits of the summer

is green almost glowing
life force in everything
growing new life
emerald grasses and new tender shoots
green vines weaving the season to come.


Gratitude List:
1. Purples and violets
2. Pinks, roses, and fuschias
3. Greens, emeralds, and viridians
4. Blues, ceruleans, and indigos
5. All that carries color

May we walk in Beauty!


“We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. We have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. it is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, I think, to be an organ and a blade. But, learning to forgive ourselves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human. We make horrible mistakes. It’s how we learn. We breathe love. It’s how we learn. And it is inevitable.” —Nayyira Waheed


“To me, it’s all right if you look at a tree, as the Hindus do, and say the tree has a spirit. It’s a mystery, and mysteries don’t compromise themselves—we’re never gonna know. I think about the spiritual a great deal. I like to think of myself as a praise poet.” —Mary Oliver


“When you hold a child in your arms, or hug your mother, or your husband, or your friend, if you breathe in and out three times, your happiness will be multiplied at least tenfold.” —Thich Nhat Hanh


“I stuck my head out the window this morning, and spring kissed me BANG in the face.” —Langston Hughes


“In the morning, wonder and be generous like the sun.
In the evening, meditate and be kind like the moon.”
—Debasish Mridha


“There is a huge silence inside each of us that beckons us into itself, and the recovery of our own silence can begin to teach us the language of heaven.” —Meister Eckhart


“Every spring is the only spring—a perpetual astonishment.” —Ellis Peters

Poem a Day: 15

Pear blossoms and barn

Today’s prompts were fun to mash up: “dream,” and “middle of the week.” Also, I had my Creative Writing students write a list poem today, so I wanted to try one of those, too. Pile on the fun.

Transformation
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

On Sunday, she dreamed she was inside an egg,
arms and legs curled tight, and light (diffuse)
swirling through the veil of shell around her.

On Monday, she dreamed she walked a pathway
underneath an overarching fern. Fronds unfurled
where dragonflies hovered above, large as dragons.

On Tuesday, she dreamed of thorn and bramble,
rose and blackberry sending tendrils grasping,
catching clothing, and bright crimson drops of blood.

On Wednesday, the fulcrum of the week, no dream
disturbed her sleep, no portents woke her,
no messages arrived through the veil between.

On Thursday, the forest of her dreams darkened
and wolves prowled just beyond her firelight.
Wolves howled in shadows, eyes a-glint.

On Friday, she died in her dreaming, yet stood
at the edge of the clearing, watching her body
where it lay among mayapples and mushrooms.

On Saturday, the dream spread a wide
gleaming sea in her path. She stepped
into a coracle boat, ivory, smooth as eggshell.

List Poem(s)

IMAG0297-COLLAGE
I managed to get a list poem written this afternoon while I was sitting by the pond watching the boys play.  Let’s call this one

June Afternoon
A List

Sun dapple on pond, sunlight and shadow on lily pads.
Ivory lotus lilies frozen in time and sunlight
in the corner where the cool spring feeds the pond.
Undulating shadow-shine of water
reflected on the low arms of cherry and of maple.
A dozen damselflies loop and dart and hover,
sun flickering through their shining wings.
A dragonfly bends an iris-leaf lance and settles into a sunbeam.
Muddy merchildren splash and babble in the shallows.
Yeep of startled frog, booming glumph of granddaddy croaker.
Percolating pop of pollywogs sipping through lily pads.
Wispy white clouds in the small circle of sky seen through green.
The constant swish and whisper of Cabin Creek,
the chatter of the little falls,
the shush and hustle at the narrows.
Sweet scent of crushed pond fern and honeysuckle.

And here’s a free-association word-list I found in my journal from 4-10-12.  I think I ought to do a word pool every week or so.  It’s such fun to come back to.  Why did I put those words together, but for the sounds, or the feeling in the mouth, in the brain?

Word Pool
A List

nuthatch
frazzled creeper
window column
prodigal peeping peachfuzz
windows uptight
limpid pirate
pyromaniac reverberation
aquamarine
amethyst exclamation
liminal window minimal
review teleportation manual
threshold
outside
vermilion
vermilion intellectual
vapid estimation
vapourous mossy mist
vavoom
varoom
insipid limpid
crestfallen intellectual
vibrant (stuck on vee)
indivisible
kerfuffle
persnickled
endumbration
impartiality
intrepid

For Glee

The list poem for a March Monday.  It will suffice for my gratitude list for today:

For glee
for giggle
for grin
for glow
for making snowmen in the snow

For dare
for desire
for delight
for dream
for things not always as they seem

For hilarity
for hope
for honor
for heart
for touch, and healing, and grace, and art

For breath
for blanket
for blessings
for birds
for building stories with our words

 

This is Ellis in 2009.  Today’s snowman is much smaller than this one, and today’s brother looks exactly like the boy in this picture.
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List Poem, Wednesday Prompt, Gratitude List

Never Not Broken

Three red stripes of sunrise through torn clouds.
A cat-claw scar down the center of my nose.
The broken spot in my Rumi anthology that always opens
to the one about the moon dropping her clothes in the street.
The crispy pin-feathers on the head of a moulting hen.
The little moon-shaped chip in my cobalt bowl.
The sleeves of that old brown sweater, tattered just so.
The dent in the rear door of Roxanne Buick, from the ice storm
that broke the limbs off the maple at the old blue house on Main.
The welt of a scar across my belly, where my children first breathed air.

Poetry Prompt for Wednesday
What shall it be?  I have been thinking about writing about anger.  A poem about something that makes me angry?  Want to join me?  If you have a good idea for shaping an angry poetry prompt, please help me out!

Gratitude List

1.  Catching my stride again
2.  Collaboration
3.  The women I work with at Radiance
4.  Blue lace agate
5.  Warm sweaters

May we walk in beauty.