How to keep moving 

How to keep moving 

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So I write another post. It’s been another week. I’ve been digging through my old writing trying to find something to say. I talked to my friend Cheyenne last night, he is lovely and sweet and says, “Do you want feedback?” before telling me exactly what I needed (but don’t always want) to hear. Then I went to bed and woke up at 2:15. Which is ridiculous. So I’m writing this at 4 am, which is so ill advised, after spending two hours reading and editing and looking for a poem that

  1. I want to share with you and
  2. Isn’t a bummer

But all the poems I like right now are bummers. In my digging through my own scratchpads, I came across some beautiful moments and I came across this, the second part of a piece I was writing about how my friend KT and I once broke a window (okay to be honest, she threw the offending rock, but I was there too, and had played a part in gathering the rocks for throwing, but not at the window, neither of us meant to throw them at the window of the shoe store–KT will tell you: “a freak accident occurred in my arm”). Anyway, usually when I tell that story, I tell about the (rightfully) wild-eyed angry shopkeeper who chased us while we ran and ran and ran all over the city, got separated and somehow met up. But while I was writing it, I was thinking about that moment when the rock made contact. How for a moment the glass turned opaque with cracks and then the entire thing came down.

some Mondays someone I’ve come to love tells me 
they nearly didn’t survive the weekend

like a pane of glass in the moment before it’s struck  
I am transparent, fragile, useful

anything in this jagged world could shatter me

even the docile fists of the well-intentioned conceal
rocks waiting to be loosed

I know you’re here for a prompt, and my little chatter is maybe not prompting enough. So I’m also going to add a poem from Black Aperture by Matt Rassmussen. This is maybe my favorite poem. I just think of it sometimes.

Your prompt: What do you know know about breaking?

And here are some great poets talking about line breaks. I found it interesting and useful.

 

 

6 Responses

  1. Mary Durfee says:

    First attempt at the prompt
    Breaking Sound
    By Mary Durfee

    The flow of air was not strong, too shallow,
    the breath not taken sincerely.
    So the note cracked.

    My fingers were annoyed at the lack of cooperation.
    Perhaps the composer, too.
    But he was long dead, had taught many.
    He probably ruined a note in the midst of a phrase, too.
    Or maybe regretted writing the note in the first place.
    But, the rent was due and the Duke was waiting for the score.

    Put it aside for another day or face up to it?
    More notes in a different piece will not help this one,
    and the injured note will not heal, noted the flute.
    Try again.
    Deep breath to lift the diaphragm and fill the lungs
    Let the note sing itself unbroken.
    A part of beauty making a whole.

  2. Antonia says:

    Seema,
    Here is a marvelous freshly published poem by an amazing young poet.
    http://www.bkmag.com/2016/11/14/we-arrived-as-witness/
    I hope you like it!
    My students treasure your book.
    Perchance we will see you again in Athens Ohio!
    Best,
    Antonia

    • seemareza says:

      oh man, Antonia, this poem! Thank you thank you thank you. And I’m glad your young poets are enjoying my book. Honored that you’re sharing it with them. Much love.

  3. Vainuupo Avegalio says:

    Title: Breaking News!
    Thought I’d give it a shot.

    Breaking News! This Now In!
    Soldier shattered by visions of his past,
    His collapsing lungs from the burdens he bares.
    His fractured spine caused by distant yet near,
    Faceless children’s agonizing cries.
    Yet how did the Soldier get there?

    Breaking News! Previous Condition,
    The smashing blow,
    The antonyms for breaking is Army Strong!
    Fractured minds are not caused by war torn hearts.
    Crumbling families, now that’s our way out.
    Get the patient to believe, the root of this evil is his broken home.

    Breaking News! A miracle!
    Don’t worry my son, the side effects are zero to none.
    Four more pills and the pain will be gone.
    Your splintering mind will begin to drift
    And think of nothing but good times and bliss
    You can tear down the walls and forget these unhappy thoughts.

    Breaking News! Abandoned VA approved!
    We see here son, the Army didn’t break your mind.
    The condition you see is not our concern,
    This is a pre-existing condition, ha ha ha ha
    We got you there.

    Breaking News! Soldier Laid to Rest!
    End.

    • seemareza says:

      AV-thank you. This repeated use of “breaking news” and then all the other synonyms for something coming apart throughout the poem. You know you’re a star, but I’ll tell you here on the internet anyway.

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