Hey friends — I don’t know what happened to summer, but whoosh! I got so turned around I missed last month’s prompt, which means I missed you too! So. As a reminder, my poetry sisters and I are working with an overarching theme of conversation this year, and this month we’re being especially overt about it. We read Talk to Me, Poem. I Think I Got the Blues. by Nikki Giovanni, and decided to talk right back at it!
Nikki’s poem starts off:
Talk to me, Poem
I’m all alone
Nobody understands what I’m saying
As the kids would say, hashtag relatable.
So, here goes, Nikki!
I Hear You, Nikki. Nobody Understands Me, Either.
After Nikki Giovanni’s Talk to Me, Poem
By Liz Garton Scanlon
Um, hey… Nikki? It’s me, Poem
Man, it’s good to hear your voice
I got myself off track there for a while
Got mixed up with the wrong sort of folk
Who wrote papers with footnotes about me
And gave lectures about me
And earned degrees and money off of me
But I swear, Nikki, they didn’t sing
Or dance or cry with me
They didn’t love me, not even a little
So I’ve actually been back around here
I’ve been incognito, if you know what I mean
I’ve been wearing a hat
That’s why you haven’t seen me
That’s why you thought
I’d gotten myself lost
Or locked up
But I’ve been here, I’ve been around
Especially early, walking, before most anyone is up
‘Cept the birds and the street sweeper
And that guy who looks like he never went to bed
He’s up still, with me and the sun
Do you hear that, Nikki?
He’s humming
Read the others here:
Tricia
Tanita
Laura
Mary Lee
Sara
Poetry Friday is being graciously hosted by Karen Edmisten this month.
And, for those interested in joining us next month, we’ll be writing tritinas. Invented by poet Marie Ponsot, this less restrictive sibling of the sestina uses three repeated words to end three tercets, in the order of 123, 312, 231, with a final line, which acts as the envoi, and features all three words in the order they appeared in the first stanza. (And, continuing with our theme, we’re writing poetry in conversation, whatever that means to you!)
Liz, your poem opens your heart with the reality you feel. Your words offer an inside level of agitation but the beauty of early morning nature and the peace it offers. I really sense your feelings throughout this poem. Enjoy your early morning walks.
Oh, neat. I am now curious about those papers with footnotes. Do tell! But, It’s nice to see the speaker chatting about being back with poets, the right sort of people. Those that hum. Wonderful!
I love this so much. Dude never went to bed, and he’s still humming, meanwhile, Poetry is also up early, slouched in a sunbeam, hat pulled down. Never having left it’s still available to be found…
I love that last stanza so much, but I also appreciate the whole notion of going off track and not respecting poetry for what it is. Lovely!
Liz, I love this conversation, and the humming. YES!
I laughed out loud at these fabulous lines:
Got mixed up with the wrong sort of folk
Who wrote papers with footnotes about me
And gave lectures about me
Beware the company you keep, Poem! 🙂
And the humming at the end? Perfect.
Liz, what a fun conversation you had here with the poem. The second stanza is my favorite–such a powerful image of the sidetracks a poem can take. Then these sweet reminders:
“But I swear, Nikki, they didn’t sing
Or dance or cry with me
They didn’t love me, not even a little”
Beautiful!
Love the voice of poem, glad they’ve made a short appearance, and at least “they didn’t sing/
Or dance or cry with me” (poem) probably cause poem is true through and through—Terrific, thanks Liz!