April 25—Write a falling poem. This could be about the physical act of falling (like someone tying your shoelaces together), or it could be symbolic falling (such as falling in love).
Falling
By Bill Kirk
When
I was
A kid,
I used
To dream
About falling.
The scene had a
Very geometric quality to it—
Dark, with just enough light
To discern a series of
Circular holes appearing
In rapid succession
On the ground in front of me.
There I was,
Running and jumping
From one spot to another
To avoid falling
Into the holes—
Almost as if
Some kind of
Giant cookie-cutter
Was imprinting holes
As fast as
I could jump
Ahead of them,
Anticipating
The next safe spot.
Breathing between jumps,
I watched as the hole maker
Left just enough
curved and roughly
Diamond-shaped
Space in between circles
For my feet to safely land.
Imagine, if you will, Jimmy Durante
Signing off his show.
Remember how he would
Stand beneath the street light
To bid his audience farewell—
All black and white, of course,
As he walked away after saying,
“Goodnight, Mrs. Mcgillocuttie.”
I can’t be sure if it were true.
But in my mind’s eye,
A trail of street lights would
Appear at his feet as he
Walked away into the darkness.
And I carried those early
Black and white TV images with me;
My dreams imbued with
A perpetual falling theme.
Yet somehow,
I always
Managed
To avoid
The holes,
Landing
Safely on
Solid
Ground.
Is
That
Weird?
Indeed.
April 26—Today is the final "Two for Tuesday" prompt(s) of the month:
1. Write a leader poem.
2. Write a follower poem.
I'll leave it up to you to decide what a leader or follower poem might be. You can either lead the way in figuring that out, or follow the lead of another.
Writers As Leaders
By Bill Kirk
Any writer
Must a leader be,
Wouldn’t you say?
For doesn’t the
Writing of a thing
Tend to push it along
To its conclusion,
Either natural or forced?
From its start,
Through its middle
And right on to
Its very end,
Whether
A story or
A treatise or
A search for meaning,
The writer leads
The way with words
As the tools of his trade.
That’s not to say
Some things may
Never quite seem
To reach
Their end.
But given
Enough time,
Enough study,
Enough reflection;
An end should certainly
Begin to take form.
Stated simply, then,
The writer’s job
Is to stretch
The idea,
The thought
The concept,
The story,
Until it is within reach,
Then pull it all
Fully into the
Imaginative grasp
Of the reader.
April 27—For today's prompt, take the phrase "In the (blank) of (blank)," replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.
In The Blink Of An Eye
By Bill Kirk
It was just a downward glance
At the phone in my lap—
The insistent ring tone
Made me do it.
Who’s calling, anyway?
It took me a second,
As I tried to focus.
The abbreviated message
Trailed across the
Small LED-lit screen.
Quick glance up ahead—
OK. 100 feet. I’m good.
Damn! The light went off.
Where’s that reply button?
There, I can see it now—tap, tap, tap….
“hey wzup, dude. this trfik is kiln m….”
It was just a split second, really.
In the blink of an eye,
I was dead.
Nice poetry, I liked "Falling", reminds me of nightmares I used to have as child. Liked? Yeah, becxause I survived them.
ReplyDeleteI always just thought the J. Durante sign off spotlights was a creative show ending, but now, maybe not.
Thank You.
You're welcome. Thanks, for taking a look, Anthony. Some things leave a curious impression when you're a kid.
ReplyDeleteThat was back in the days of black and white TV, one or two channels that came in clearly and maybe an hour of family TV watching in the evening.