Hi all :)!
Week 2's update is a little late ^_^', but I'm happy to say that, for the most part, I've kept up with the challenge—and days that I missed were made up promptly. The thing I struggled with this week—somewhat ironically—was the theme! :headdesk:
Each poem, in its own way, resonates with the loose theme of letting go/being loosed...but I found that some of the poems might only have that kind of meaning for me (and, in some cases, even I'd have to dig deep. Lol)
Last week I shared some writing tips (you can get to those here).
This week I'm going to share a few of my favorite poets (thus far) in the challenge. If you'd like, you can attempt to scope them out by taking a look over at the Poetic Asides blog, OR you can use the search tool ;). Sometimes the tool is a little uncooperative, but it's still pretty nifty.
- Ashley Marie Egan
- Aylat (she has a poetry blog—how cool is that?!—and she's posted some of her PAD challenge poems on her blog. Check it out!)
- Tatsuro Nakajima
- Marilyn Cavicchia
Have you encountered a favorite poet or two? Let me know—I'd love to take a look at their work!
Here are my poems for the 2nd week:
Prompt: Dare poem
It's a free fall,
whether you teeter on the edge with your eyes closed tightly,
waiting for the tug of gravity
leap with arms outstretched,
you're braving a sky of unknowns.
It's ok to be afraid.
But steel yourself in the rushing wind,
as you wait in anticipation
for the promised moment;
when you relinquish yourself and
cut the cords,
Prompt: Work poem
The distance of farewell
These boundary lines mark
It's the way it should be.
I don't want to mourn
things I cannot change,
or the existence of mutually beneficial lines I laid across our worlds;
I don't want to feel as though I'm the final arbiter of fault
for recognizing who you are and who I am,
for carving myself out of the desperate situation
we traipsed into.
For acknowledging your existence
and only nodding,
Prompt: How [blank] poem—one of my favorite prompts because it provides the perfect scope, yet almost boundless freedom. Brilliant.
how we hold our breath
i stall on the shore
relishing the waves
that sweep across my bare toes,
embracing the sensation that all my anxieties
are being drawn out, siphoned into a sea
where unrequited dreams await
my last breath is
a siren's song
in my lungs as i plunge
i wish i could breathe underwater,
but i can't
we've all got to surface
Prompt: Seasonal poem
Comfort in the Seasons
But even when the leaves brighten, effervescent moments of consciousness
in the wake of death;
when the frost tames the soil until it languishes;
when the stars promise rebirth, and the air buzzes with renewed hope;
I know, one day, summer will come
for You are always holding my hand.
Prompt: Damage poem
What I Need
Just talk to me, you say.
Hmm. Let's not—
say we didn't.
Say without saying: it's pointless.
I'd rather hush my mortal wounds
to sleep myself. I know what's coming.
You insist now, but after you
see them, you'll balk just like the others—
and once you start running,
you'll never look back.
It doesn't matter if it isn't your fault;
you're still going to make it worse if you pry.
So leave me
to my own devices,
my own madness;
though I don't mind if you escort me to the brink of sanity-not-sanity
where I can finally think.
I'm going to need you when it's over.
Prompt: Confession poem
What I Love Most
We don't communicate with words—
one look is enough,
says everything with a fervency even the words themselves could not:
we accept each other the way we are.
This is why you overlook my tendency
to hide behind a different pair of eyes;
you know how I long to replace striving to be with being.
When my breath catches at the mere thought of leaving the dream,
when no one else sees the illusion and I am loathe to shake it off,
my expression pleads, Don't tell—
but my smile is never more radiant
than in the moments you refuse.
Prompt: Honest or Dishonest (or both) poem
and we are
we reject the notion of becoming—
the lies we forge and lend ourselves to rumor in
trading in one mask for another,
blurring and swirling and mirroring the truths we desire to reflect.
we never ask why—
no, not ever.
Choosing a favorite this week was hard :/. I wasn't very impressed with myself LOL. Two poems stood to me out a tad more than the others, though: how we hold our breath and drowning voices.
Do you have a favorite (or...a not favorite)? Let me know in the comments!
Also, there's still time to join in on the challenge...