Writerly Friends,
thanks for all of the birthday wishes. I had a wonderful weekend at the winter SCBWI
conference, held in one of my favorite cities: NYC.
Because I took a
birthday break, it is Day 20 of the Pantone® Poetry Project. You can read a full project description at this post.
Today’s colors are
Silver Bullet and Rhapsody.
Day 20 Silver Bullet Pantone ® 17-3933 |
Day 20 Rhapsody Pantone ® 16-3817 |
Being in New York this
weekend brought out my funky fashion sense. Check out my scripty nails.
The perfect press-on nails for a writers' conference. |
This poem describes
what I would wear, walking around the Big Apple, if I were really, really
brave:
NYC
By Laura Shovan
Pants – a purple
rhapsody,
silver heels, rock
concert tee,
velvet jacket’s fuzzy
feels,
hair slicked back, as
smooth as eels.
Be prepared, that’s
what you’ll see
if you’re stepping out
with me.
Michelle Heidenrich Barnes of Today's Little Ditty, imagines me in a rhapsody of tulle for my birthday celebration:
There once was a poet named Laura
who fancied a Sea Foam fedora
and Rhapsody gown
which she wore about town
to showcase her Pantone-rich aura.
There once was a poet named Laura
who fancied a Sea Foam fedora
and Rhapsody gown
which she wore about town
to showcase her Pantone-rich aura.
by Michelle Heidenrich Barnes
As you know, Michelle and I often go head to head in limerick challenges. When it comes to clothing, her taste is hands-down better than mine. (Plus, I want that hat.)
I did not mortify my BFF Michelle with the outfit I described above (though the jacket is real, and black – one of my favorite pieces). We were properly dolled up, though not in gowns and fedoras, to see the musical Chicago.
Speaking of music, here is Linda Baie’s parody of “Home on the Range” for her Silver Bullet poem.
From shopachu.com |
I did not mortify my BFF Michelle with the outfit I described above (though the jacket is real, and black – one of my favorite pieces). We were properly dolled up, though not in gowns and fedoras, to see the musical Chicago.
Speaking of music, here is Linda Baie’s parody of “Home on the Range” for her Silver Bullet poem.
Forgive Me, Roy Rogers
(Thanks to Daniel E.Kelley for Home On The Range)
Oh, I yearned for a
home, where Roy Rogers roamed
and Gene Autry sang us
a song,
where Dale Rogers had
a shirt that was plaid,
and the days of play I
loved were long.
Chorus:
Home, home on the
range
in the summertime I
played every day,
where seldom I heard a
discouraging word
as I galloped and
galloped away.
I pretended to be a
wild western girl
with my holster and
gun at my side.
I galloped and
whooped, and twirled lasso loops
imagining horses to
ride.
My favorite of all was
the writer’s sure call
and the magic of words
that I read,
when I learned of the
best warrior found in the west
the Lone Ranger! my
hero instead.
I heigh-hoed along,
singing his song
and loved that he did
what was right.
Like the story
foretold of Lone Ranger bold,
left silver bullets as I rode out of sight.
Linda Baie © All right reserved
I took Silver Bullet
more literally in my second poem for today.
Reflection
By Laura Shovan
No one sees the bullet’s
silver,
its dull, unpolished
lilac.
Who would hold a metal
bud
pinch it with thumb
and forefinger, roll it
round
to see a small
reflection--
one’s own face? A
bullet’s
place is in the quiet
dark,
the chamber of a gun,
or blooming
in the chamber of a
heart.
Finally, we have two
beautiful nature poems for Silver Bullet and Rhapsody.
Margaret Simon tells
us, “After I wrote this poem, I went out for a walk and guess what I saw in the
sky?”
Photo by Margaret Simon of Reflections on the Teche |
Sky Rhapsody
By Margaret Simon
Wispy cirrus curls
spin like a silver bullet.
Contrail lines
crisscross—ice
crystals
communicate
a rhapsody*
in the sky.
*rhapsody from Merriam-Webster: a piece of
music that is meant to express a lot of emotion and does not have a regular
form.
And I’ll leave you with Diane Mayr’s hopeful
poem.
Lilac Rhapsody
by Diane Mayr
Syringa vulgaris?
There's nothing vulgar
about a Lilac in June
bursting forth in glorious
purple, lilac, or white.
It's heady stuff, her fragrance.
And heady, her vernal tune--
Summer is coming!
Summer is coming!
Summer is coming soon!
I know some mythology-loving friends out there
have been waiting for tomorrow. We’ve got the god of the ocean himself,
Poseidon, to write about. Choose his mood: angry Tornado, or playful Aqua
Splash.
Day 21 Poseidon Pantone ® 19-4033 |
Day 21 Tornado Pantone ® 18-3907 |
Day 21 Aqua Splash Pantone ® 14-4812 |
Yesterday, at SCBWI, Kate Messner gave an amazing speech about the power of failure. She told a story about living with imperfection by trying, and trying, and trying again. Sometimes focusing on quantity, not quantity, of our writing is a way to honor the practice and give ourselves an opportunity to try new things, fail, sometimes succeed, and grow. To that end, I'm still planning to announce Pantone ® prizes for frequent fliers contributors on Day 28.
8 comments:
Thanks for the bullets and rhapsodies. I will have a Poseidon tomorrow.
All beautiful, everyone. Laura & Michelle, you must have a personal clothing connection with both your 'ditties' about dressing to the nines, or at least Laura is dressing to the nines! That second poem from you Laura, is like a punch in the stomach. And Diane and Margaret, beauty today and beauty coming. Nice to see how you both said it.
I think your fashion sense rocks, Ms. Shovan... and I can't believe you found a sea foam fedora! Enjoyed today's poems, as I do every installment (even if I don't always comment)!
haha author amok--totally unable to pass up Poseidon. Thanks.
Gender Identity
I
Poseidon tornadoes the
surface in an aqua splash.
Wait. That is so Disney.
II
Poseidon mirrors his niece
Athena—she the mini-Zeus
dressed in drag—he the true
vestige of Mother God.
Athena of the harness—
Poseidon the horse—
riding sea waves—
mane billowing serpents—
Scylla—Charybdis—
then plunging into
the briny female deep.
Hi, Laura. I wrote this poem a few years ago about my father who passed away (it was published in the LPR). The 26th is his birthday so it would be really nice if you are able to publish it on your blog for Poseidon day. -Stephanie Lemghari
Tide
When I was a child, I stumbled on pebbles while playing
on the beach and fell into salty water. The sea
raced
to steal my breath, but my father fished me up like
Poseidon,
his trident arms carrying me safely to land.
Now his body betrays his mortality after all,
as, pebble by pebble, the tide pulls him from shore.
I call to him to stay, to close his ears to siren song,
to trace a different ending in the sand.
PS: my line breaks didn't copy properly because the lines are too long for the blog comments. ;)
Stephanie, that's such a powerful and moving poem. It made me a little verklempt.
Stephanie, thank you for sharing your beautiful poem again. I know that my readers will appreciate it.
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