Thursday, April 12, 2012

Napowrimo - April 13

This prompt really works for me.
Look through your poem drafts, notes, and writing fragments. Choose one line that you like and refine it until it feels as complete and polished as one line out of context can be. Use that line as a refrain in a new poem. When you've completed a decent draft, try writing an additional draft of the poem without the line, using it instead as the title.

Below the three poems. The blog is not doing justice to line breaks, italics and all,
so if you really want to see this, email me:

First poem
Spruce boughs heave under the rain’s cold diamond spit
a few miles beyond the hum of the New York State Thruway
just at the edge of the fresh-skunk scent, under
a halo-sliver of moon in that moment between dog
and wolf when everything wild knows
I belong here, doing what I do
and if you hear it, you
too feel the web
of things.

Second poem
Even if the wind spits cold diamond edges of April sleet,
do not send back, dagger-dash knife-tongue.

The wind also sends kindness, like kisses.

And if the skunk leaves you a fresh-scent, and fleet-footed
deer have trampled your garden, remember the lily’s perfume

the wind sends to you, to wend your curses to kisses.

And if the moon seems cut to a sliver, greet the light
that day-wipes the stars, greet the clouds shrouding dawn

you know the wind will comes, like a kindness kisses.


3rd poem

The wind will come, like a kindness kisses

The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.

The wind will,
as will does,
spins into comings,
We measure it in gusts,
lusty gales,
in breezes, soft as sheets billowing on laundry lines,
or stiff as the eager sail;

The wind will,
as abroholos on the coast of Brazil, or
as will does,
squall and scream,
suffer us to moan.

We measure it into rhythms
patterns of whistle,
figures of flight,
rollings’ leap,

The wind will burn
as sirocco, tramontane, foehn or fén-fēng** (焚風 'burning wind')
as fire does,
Anemoi... to explain moods,
how the chords tighten in our throat
until Zephyros, gentlest god,
allows us to sing

and the song carries like a kindness kisses

the song presses into the wind,
like kindness,

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