Sunday, August 02, 2009

ReadWritePoem Prompt #86

WOOOHOOO! This was the most fun poem to write! The prompt was totally succinct and completely doable - with lots of good challenge. I just am addicted to making my own hyphenated adjectives...I feel like a Word Goddess when I create my own that be a "Word Goddess"? Here is the prompt:

Here is my poem:

tiny tangled legs wrapped in timothy grass
pink palms flat, in a bird-hunter's blind.
a sudden chumble-chooking of meadowlarks
makes me sit up so sunrays bounce-refract from golden braids
tied with red yarn, fat as readied caterpillars. Grandma says,
"That's my favorite bird," and I agree.
In the u-pick, strawberry rows succumb to Roman-esque ways
sickening Bubba like little birdies weighty with seeded pulp.
Freezer jam is put up to remind us of engorged bellies and vertical stains on new white shirts,
but now lips, waxy-red as berry juice, are coated with the exhaust
of my raspberry car dusting itself away toward late-night pizzas
but chewing on the tar-bubbled smog-heated air and red wax lips that taste remotely of rolaids.
I collage and journal about dead-beat dads,
then I make art from lemons, instead of sugar-sweetened lemonade
with ice-cubes calmly clinking on cold-beaded glasses.
These feathered wings have beat the skin of a full-breasted moon, and Grandma says
"That's my favorite bird," and I am missing her.
Bubba has his own baby now and
the strawberries are in the sunsets that soften the broken crags.
These healing flames are like hands praying, clasped around the rake
as I make my own timothy grass come spiraling back around my legs.
I wash the red off my lips and finally see my own blood
as an autopsy of sunshine, lemons and feathers.


JFKlaver said...

This poem makes perfect sense to me and reminds me of my grandma. I can only hope that, in the future, it will remind my grandchildren of me!

Queen Of The Armchair aka Dzintra Stitcheries said...

Of course it's all right to be a Word Goddess♥x

wildplumwhisper said...

I love the repetition in the lines spoken by grandma, lots of delicious words here.

gautami tripathy said...

Superb way of putting it!

chemical analysis of a poet

Kill Word Verification

Dana said...

Man. This poem is phenomenal. I can't believe everyone wrote all of this stunning work this week. It's amazing.

Did your site just start playing music that sounds like a bubbling brook? Weird because I was going to say that your poem has that kind of musical, watery quality -- on a cognitive and emotional level, the words envelope and comfort the reader in the same way that sound and water do. Even when you have lines such as:

"I wash the red off my lips and finally see my own blood
as an autopsy of sunshine, lemons and feathers."

That still sings like music, and it still calms the reader, despite the heavy emotion the lines hold.

This is exquisite.

O! My comment-verification word is "moister." I kid you not. Speaking of water ...

alotus-poetry said...

I really enjoyed the alliteration, lyricism in this piece. I mean, all your words just explode, dripping with everything delicious! I think I'm satiated now. :)

"then I make art from lemons, instead of sugar-sweetened lemonade" I can so relate to that! My friend once told me this! :)

Thank you for sharing!

caroleesherwood said...

this brings my senses alive: i hear the clinking ice, i can touch the yarn, i can see all the colors, etc.

it's very rich. wonderful, wonderful words!!!

Derrick said...

Hi Katie,

You did enjoy this prompt, didn't you! Wonderful images. Thoroughly eye-dazzling, lip-smacking images!

Nathan said...

Katie, this is outstanding! Such imagery! And those last two lines...I wish I had written them.

Wanda McCollar said...

Katie, this is fine work, indeed. Images spring to mind of my grandmother as well. Your poem has the ability of plucking my own moments of childhood happiness and playing them back to me. Nothing better could be wished from a poem. Thank you.

angie said...

I love all the colors, the fruits: red strawberries, yellow lemons. And the feathers--love the feathers. Wonderful poem!

one more believer said...

rich words filled with delight...everyone has a bubba in their many colorful images...words are everything!!