Well lookie here — dusting off the old blog for Poetry Friday!
(Truth be told, back when I was in the thick of blogging, Poetry Friday was always, always what I loved most. A simple celebration of language at its purest, of connecting to others through that language, of trotting about all Friday morning, from one spot to another, remembering old favorites, discovering new ones. I'm so glad to be a part of that today…)
So. Here's the deal. During those days, I met and grew close to a little clutch of very wonderful women and writers. We ganged up to work on some group poetry projects — a crown sonnet, for example — and called ourselves The Poetry Princesses. Because why not?
Recently, we re-connected and discovered we were all missing poetry in our lives so we decided to challenge ourselves anew. The result? Pantoums. With the unifying line "I've got better things to do than survive" — from an Ani DiFranco song — we each created our own poems and are sharing them today.
The prompt actually resulted in two pantoums for me, and here they are:
And This, and This
(with thanks to Ani DiFranco for the line “I’ve got better things to do than survive)
Appointments, bookmarks, lists
I’ve got better things to do than survive
Each moment is a chance just missed
I take off knowing that I won’t arrive
I’ve got better things to do than survive
And a doctor who will get me there
I take off knowing that I won’t arrive
That hair-fine like between elation and despair
There’s a doctor who will get me there
Dark’s antidote? A tiny pill –
That hair-fine line between elation and despair
My head, my heart, my driving will
Dark’s antidote, a tiny pill
Or better yet, from you, a kiss
My head, my heart, my driving will
Touch here, and there, and this
Yes better yet, from you, a kiss
Each moment something not to miss
Touch here, and there, and this, and this
Appointments, bookmarks, endless lists
The Food Movement
(with thanks to Ani DiFranco for the line “I’ve got better things to do than survive”)
Oh, please – the relentlessness of meals
The menus, so contrived
The local beets, the grass-fed veal
I’ve got better things to do than just survive
The menus, so contrived
The water bottled and the prices fixed
I’ve got better things to do than to survive
But still I sit like stone, transfixed
The water bottled and the prices fixed
We are assured “the glaze has been reduced”
My god, I sit like stone, transfixed –
If food were man, I’d be seduced!
We are assured the glaze has been reduced
I want to cry, “Who cares?”
If food were man, I’d be seduced
I take it in like necessary air
I want to cry, “Who cares?”
The local beets, the grass-fed veal
I take them in like necessary air
and say "Oh, please!" to all these unrelenting meals
Thank you to Poetry Princess and friend Laura Salas for hosting today — visit her here — and thanks to you, too, for stopping by. Enjoy your Friday!
Brava! Two compelling pantoums, and they both had me in their back-and-forth. I especially like “The Food Movement” with what I read as both fascination with and weariness of our preoccupation with what we eat.