This month’s challenge was to write a Definito — a term coined (and form defined) by the brilliant Heidi Mordhorst! (Yikes — our poems aren’t usually read by the inventor of the form!) The basic parameters of the Definito are to write an 8-12 line poem geared toward 8-12 year-olds that “demonstrates the meaning” of a word, which serves as both the title and the ending of the poem.
For me, there was something about writing for this particular audience that suggested a narrative right away, so I’ve written two related poems that could lead me to even more. Here goes (and with apologies to Ms. Mordhorst!):
Broken
Pieces of sidewalk chalk
My monkey-bar arm
Grampa’s voice
when he says goodbye
Mom’s car-in-the-shop
and the vacuum cleaner
and the little window
over the kitchen sink
Things that are in pieces,
like my heart or my family
all broken
Promise
Something sure
Something lasting
Something hopeful
Something spoken
Something wobbly
forgotten
left behind
and broken
A word that means something
(everything) until
it just plain doesn’t:
promise
Now, go find the other Definitos here:
Andi
And here’s all the rest of Poetry Friday, at The Opposite of Indifference!
As for next month, we’re writing rhyming Occitan verse poems called Dansas. We’d love for you to join us!
Not just a pair, but a pair that work together! These feel like they might someday live in a verse novel…I want to know the back story for both.
oh, YES. So much story permeating these poems. I LOVE them. Please write more!
Your poems are full of emotion, Liz. Broken is a sad word but promise implies hope, too, even as it can be broken. These poems are so well done, and evocative.
What a perfect list for the word broken. I love how it connects to promise.
Yes, we need more!
Yes, I, too, immediately thought that these two had the feel of a novel in verse. They go together like pb&j. You all really have a knack for this form! I’m a bit envious!
So much story in both your poems…and spare, always straight to the heart. Thank you.
Oooh. Not just definitions, but definitions that tell us so much about the speaker. Truly lovely.
Ms. Mordhorst has just experienced throat-clench and eye-well. “My monkey-bar arm,” “things that are in pieces,” and as Mary Lee says, the way they fit together as the uncommon heart of a common story. Brava.
Both these poems led me to wanting to know more. As a few others have said, they do feel like something from a novel in verse. Could it be we’ll read more?
This poor narrator! Great voice, Liz.
I love that these poems bring up sympathy right away…they make me want to know more. Is broken going to be fixed? Is promise going to be put right?
The way you wrote from such feeling seems like it would touch young readers mightily, Liz.
Oh, my gosh, now I’m all teary-eyed. These are just lovely and perfect and so packed with emotion and backstory. Clearly, no apologies to Heidi necessary!
These definitos are so evocative. I felt as though I was reading a novel in verse. Well done!
Lovely–such a heavy heart in your first poem, leaves you with a lump in your throat. And they tie together–I like the rhythm in your second poem and then, ugh you drop us–powerful, thanks!