Miranda, Puck, Titania, Ariel…
How much do you love the names of the Uranian moons?

Uranus is pretty much always the butt of jokes, but it’s actually a pretty spectacular planet.
27 known moons, 13 known rings, named for the Greek god of the sky. Pretty spectacular.

Uranus

You’re well attended:
Shakespearean satellites
Just mooning about

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryMonth
#30daysofhaiku

We could be forgiven for looking at Saturn and seeing all moons (82!) and rings (7), all hydrogen and helium, but scientists think there may well be a solid core in there. Makes you wonder!

Saturn

We all admire
the way you accessorize
but what’s at your core?

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryLevel
#30daysofhaiku

Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system but Venus usually outshines him.

Plus, for part of the year, Jupiter’s barely visible from Earth at all because the sun stands between us.

It’s just now, this April, that he’s re-emerging and will become increasingly brighter and more visible until late September when he’ll be in direct opposition to the sun and will shine like a star for us all night long.

The universe has a way of humbling everyone at least sometimes.

Jupiter

Re-emerge at dawn
from behind the sun’s smug glare.
You’re your own big deal.

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryMonth
#30daysofhaiku

That red planet just drives our earthling imaginations wild, doesn’t it?

Mars

Un-crewed but roving
all over your mysteries.
Your face flushes red.

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryMonth
#30daysofhaiku

Today I am holding Earth as if holding a big blue marble.
A big, blue, perfect, fragile, precious marble.

Playing for keepsies,
knuckles down and aim is true.
The blue one? Is ours.

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryMonth
#30daysofhaiku

Wow, doing research on Venus got me in a certain kind of way.
So, y’all get a triptych today!

Venus

fiery, crushing,
explosive, unbearable!
My own toxic twin.

#lizsharespoems
#NationalPoetryMonth
#30daysofhaiku

Happy National Poetry Month, friends!

This is (I think?) my 13th year of writing daily haiku during the month of April, and I couldn’t be gladder that it’s swung back around to this time of year again. (Also immensely grateful that you’re here, either reading along or writing your own poems!)

As you probably know, haiku is a traditional Japanese form that has been evolved and played with and differently understood over time and across space. I follow the (westernized) 5/7/5 syllabic pattern because I like working within a defined form. There are also other trademarks of the haiku, including the kigo (a word that names, points to, or suggests a season) and the kireji (the turn or surprise part way through the poem). I try to stay mindful but not bound by the rules.

This year, instead of going free-form like I’ve done in the past, I’ve given myself prompts for each day of the month. You’re welcome to them, too, if they feel helpful or fun. The first nine days will be the planets (plus that lowly dwarf planet Pluto), starting closest to the sun. So, without further ado, here’s Mercury.

Mercury

Your dark, cratered crust
writing an oblong orbit
in and out of light

Note: Besides being the closest planet to the sun, one of the things that is cool and unique about Mercury is that scientists believe it’s partly made of graphite. Yep, like pencils! Mercury — forever writing ovals in the notebook of the sky!

#lizsharespoems
#nationalpoetrymonth
#30daysofhaiku

Dodoitsu: A four-line form from Japan with a defined syllabic structure (7/7/7/5) and a focus on work or love. Often funny.

Ekphrasis: Originating from the Greek word for description, ekphrastic poetry engages with or is inspired by a piece of visual art.

This month my pals and I challenged ourselves to write one or more ekphrastic dodoitsu, based on photos we offered up to each other. I really had fun with this prompt, although I left quite a few, well, we’ll call them dodos, on the cutting room floor. Here are the few left standing:

(Photo Credit: Laura Purdie Salas)

APPLE LOVE
Your rootstock grafted to mine
promised sweetness and pink shine
till love turned to vinegar.
You’re just plain rotten.

(Photo Credit: Tanita Davis)

TWO DOLLAR BILL
Oh, look – Thomas Jefferson!
You have been discontinued!
Not up for a hard day’s work,
what is your value?

(Photo Credit: Mary Lee Hahn)

BRICK BY BRICK
The writer stacks word by word,
building beauty out of bricks,
mortar made of metaphor.
And then, she re-reads.

You can read more here:
Andi
Laura
Kelly
Mary Lee
Tanita
Tricia
Sara

And Poetry Friday is at Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s The Poem Farm!

Next month we’re writing poetry “In the style of…” Taylor Mali! Join us?

There is something so energizing and inspiring about collaboration.

Having chosen an art form that is so often solitary, I love and appreciate any chance I get to work with others. The picture books I’ve co-authored with my pal Audrey Vernick have been some of my most fun to make. And the decade of shared prompts with my friends (here) have kept my fingers in poetry pie and a steadiness beneath my feet.

This month, we took our usual playful collaborative efforts a bit further by trying an exquisite corpse poem, wherein we each contributed a line to make a whole. There are lots of ways to play this sometime-parlor game, and ours went like this:

I started by penning a single line. There were no rules for mine, although I anchored it in February, this funny little slip of a month that is asked to do such heavy lifting.

I sent my line to Tanita, and she wrote a second line to follow mine. She then sent her line to Kelly, but didn’t include mine. When Kelly was done, she sent her line (without mine or Tanita’s) to Sara. And it went on like this, from Sara to Andi to Laura to Tricia to Mary Lee, with each new writer only seeing the line immediately preceding their turn. Nobody ever had a grasp on the big picture.

Nerve-wracking! Mysterious! Thrilling!

Finally, we came together via Zoom and put our lines together as an exquisite corpse first draft. It looked like this:

This month, odd one out, running short on days and sleep,
this month, past meets pride, roots ripped from native soil still somehow grow.
The once-bright future dims. Shadows grow
but there, near canyon rim, in broken light
the yearling hawk shrieked in futile fury
and the steel-edged clouds looked away.
Trees bow and bend on a blustery day
that rattles old oak leaves down the street.

We were surprised how imagistic it was! And how in many ways, it already kind of… worked. BUT, the fun had just begun, because then we granted each other permission to do with the draft whatever felt right, to cut and paste, to alter, to re-vision. Thus the eight very different poems we’re posting today.

Mine is quite transformed — lines edited and cut and moved about — but it’s still about February, about winter passing to spring, maybe, or a mother passing to a daughter, or the old, dark ways passing to the new. Your guess is as good as mine. Enough said, here goes:

Passing the Torch
Liz Garton Scanlon

This month (so short on days)
trees bow and bend,
the young hawk shrieks,
a once-bright future dims.

This month (all bluster still)
dry leaves and steel-edged clouds
rattle and release themselves
into the light upon the canyon’s rim.

As for the others, go here to read:
Laura’s
Tanita’s
Andi’s
Sara’s
Mary Lee’s
Kelly’s
Tricia’s

And Poetry Friday is at our own dear Tricia’s this week!

OH — and if you’d like to join us next month, try writing an ekphrastic dodoitsu! Say what? Well, a dodoitsu inspired by an image — a painting, sculpture, photograph. And when you do, let us know about it with the tag #PoetryPals! Have fun!

I really ran out of steam at the end of last year, but I sure am glad to be back amongst you all. This month, my Poetry Sisters and I decided to try Overheard Poems — a kind of found poem built on the snippets of conversations we’d stumbled upon.

Eavesdropping — like so many other things — took a hit during the pandemic, what with us all holed up at home talking mostly to our dogs. So I was a bit worried. I needn’t have been.

Just yesterday, I walked up to my favorite outdoor coffee counter, and while I waited for my drink, I listened to two young women having a conversation at the table right behind me. One of the women was particularly insistent, and as soon as I heard her speak, I knew I had my poem.

Overheard, An Etheree
Liz Garton Scanlon

I
really
like to know
what to expect.
She shrugged. She meant it.
Nobody spoke. Or laughed.
Each breath stilled, doubt sat like stone.
Mercury has no atmosphere,
and this was like that – hope suspended –
but we wanted it to be possible.

Go read the other Overheard Poems here:
Tanita
Sara
Laura
Andi
Mary Lee

And Irene Latham is hosting Poetry Friday at Live Your Poem.

***As for next month, we’re going to try one or more Exquisite Corpse poems. We’re not sure exactly how we’re going to do them, and there’s a lot of wiggle room. Read about them, and then figure out how YOU’d like to use or be inspired by the game. We’ll share our poems on Feb. 25th, and you can, too! If you share on social media, use the hashtag #PoetryPals. We can’t wait to see what you (and we?) do with this! Be brave, have fun!