Everyday Poetry

Day 30:  write a poem in the form of a series of directions describing how a person should get to a particular place. It could be a real place, like your local park, or an imaginary or unreal place.  There's an old joke about someone asking directions,  and being told "I wouldn't start from here." But that's the only place you can start, whether it's a real journey,  or your journey through life.    To get to where you want to be Start from where you are.  Take the first step,  then - most important - Keep going in your chosen direction.  Take along your close companions If you're worried they'll be left behind;  Trust you will meet new friends In unexpected places. You may get lost along the way,  Blundering your way back on track After several false starts Before you find your destination.  You may choose to stop, distracted By the bright lights of interesting diversions. Take time to decide if you need to back track Or if th...

Day 29:  “in the window.” Imagine a window looking into a place or onto a particular scene. It could be your childhood neighbor’s workshop, or a window looking into an alien spaceship. Maybe a window looking into a witch’s gingerbread cottage, or Lord Nelson’s cabin aboard the  H.M.S. Victory . What do you see? What’s going on? My poem draws on the window trope of the BBC programme Playschool. Through the square window  A man is busy creating a home Finding his style in his own space Making his own particular choices.  Through the round window  He is making it ready for his children Preparing a place where they feel safe Making a home as special as their mother's. Through the arched window They are living a new life in this new place As happy, cross, excited, noisy as their old home,  But nowhere near as sad.    © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

Day 28:  write a poem that poses a series of questions. You can choose to answer them – or just let the questions keep building up, creating a poem that asks the reader to come up with their own answer(s).  Each day can feel like routine,  but in reality it's a series of choices. Why can't I stay cosy in my bed?  Can I justify reading another chapter?  Must I get up and start the day? Is it a Marmalade or Marmite kind of day?  Milky or black? Large or small?  Inside or on the deck?  Why doesn't the gym get any easier?  My stomach any flatter?  (Could it be the marmalade ? The milky coffee? ) Who is that woman stalking my reflection?  Am I looking good for my age? Should I wear mascara?  Who's looking anyway?  Should I phone a friend, arrange a coffee?  Why haven't they asked me?  Are their lives full enough, without me?  How long will the sunny weather last?  Can I leave the housework for another day?...

 Day 27: for some reason the NaPoWriMo site wasn't updated today - hopefully everything is OK with the organiser.  Anyway,  it gives me free rein to come up with something of my own. I've just come off a book group meeting on zoom - I'm still undecided whether it's a boon or a bane. Whether they lift up your spirits, or cause you great strain,  There's no escape from zoom meetings when they come round again. Whilst we can't meet up in person they're part of our life,  They're the best we can do while corona is rife. Before it starts the room's tidied and cleaned So the pile of dishes is not seen on screen, The battery is charged so this time it'll last For the whole 90 minutes which zoom past so fast.    With my face on display I've taken good care To wear something decent, and blow dried my hair.    I've learnt having light on your face flatters you most The first time I did it I looked like a ghost.    It's lovely to see you while...

Day 26:  write a parody - mimic the form of an existing poem while changing the content. Just find a poem – or a song – that has always annoyed you, and write an altered, silly version of it.   The song which is increasingly annoying me is unfortunately "Happy Birthday" which Boris (Johnson) told us to sing twice to ensure we were washing our hands for long enough to kill the virus.  It's about time it had some new words.  Wash your hands carefully Kill the virus with glee  Use soap and warm water To get both hands clean. Don't forget thumbs and backs Massage into the cracks Between all your fingers Then rinse with the tap.    © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

Day 25: write an occasional poem - about  an occasion in the past or the future, one important to you and your family.  Yesterday I finished Matthew Haig's excellent Midnight Library,  which explores how different a life would be if different decisions were taken at certain points in your life.  I've always been amazed at how events come together to spin you off in a different direction;  this poem celebrates one such occasion,  and flows from the coincidence of reading that book and receiving this prompt.  Was it written in the stars Were there beneficial karmas That led to the convergence of our paths?  My life had become a bit humdrum, Signed up for the course as a bit of fun, I didn't intend to meet 'the one'. Was our meeting always meant Was it somehow heaven sent Were the planets in alignment? You were looking for a university course One your bosses could endorse,  You didn't intend to be blown off course.  So, was it luck or pure ...

Day 24: today's  prompt is to find a factual article about an animal – just make sure it repeats the name of the animal a lot. Now, go back through the text and replace the name of the animal with something else – it could be something very abstract, like “sadness” or “my heart,” or something more concrete, like “the streetlight outside my window that won’t stop blinking.” You should wind up with some very funny and even touching combinations, which you can then rearrange and edit into a poem. I chose the hare - an animal with a rich folkloric history - and let it take me back to a time when my life was not so settled and  believed in a fantasy.   Back then,  Mad as a March hare Staring at its reflection in the moon,  I lay in thrall to Aphrodite Pining for a lost love.  Too timid for my own good Unable to face the risk of knowing Too ready to dash away should danger appear I never noticed the tortoise creeping up behind me. Nowadays, I'm grateful...

Day 23:  write a poem that responds, in some way, to another poem. This could be as simple as using a line or image from another poem as a jumping-off point, or it could be a more formal poetic response to the argument or ideas raised. I've chosen as my starting point One Art by Elizabeth Bishop, a poem about loss.  I've written about something I worry about losing - my memory. Bis hop's poem is a type of villanelle, a favourite poetic form of mine,  but it is quite tricky.  The art of losing was easier to master Once I accepted my memory is shot; Blank spaces no longer feel like a disaster.  At first, unwilling to accept, I'd fluster Feigning my way through gaps a lot -  Bluffing was a skill I quickly tried to master.  If nothing came to mind,  I'd bluster Hoping they'd not think I'd lost the plot Admitting forgetfulness seemed like disaster.  As time went on, I knew I'd have to adjust, or Else be found out, judged a clot, Quick-fire pretenc...

Day 22: today is all about  metonymy  -  write a poem that invokes a specific object as a symbol of a particular time, era, or place. Our ivory tower was a block of flats A clever architect's solution, concealing a chimney stack Sited along the central spine, in  a corner of the square  It took centre stage, before the site expanded.  The tower sounded a jarring note, too modern  In a campus of honey coloured concrete quadrangles Vainly trying to emulate its more ancient siblings To give it gravitas.  At the tower's foot sat the newsagents  Where we  searched through the piles of second hand books For recommended texts, b efore heading to the bookstore Thoughtfully sited next to the bank.  A tower of windows, each flashing a poster Declaring the political allegiance of the student inside -  My own swayed by the cool,  bearded,  tutor  Unaware of my schoolgirl crush. The tower where, the wrong side of a too early ...

Day 21:  write a poem that uses lines that have a repetitive set-up.  Inspiration for today's prompt is t he nursery rhyme, “ There was a man of double deed ”. Its effectiveness can be traced back to how, after the first couplet, the lines all begin with the same two phrases. The way that these phrases resolve gets more and more bizarre over the course of the poem, giving it a headlong, inevitable feeling. It was morning It was spring sunshine It was the start of something It was a mystery, as yet unknown It was a day bursting with possibility It was exciting, scary, full of resonance It was an ordinary day turned extraordinary It was leading to something indefinable, new,   It was finally the day she shed her lockdown hair.   © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

Day 19:  write a sijo. a traditional Korean poetic form. Like the haiku, it has three lines, but the lines are much longer. Typically, they are 14-16 syllables, and optimally each line will consist of two parts – like two sentences, or a sentence of two clauses divided by a comma. In terms of overall structure, a sijo functions like an abbreviated sonnet, in that the first line sets up an inquiry or discussion, the second line continues the discussion, and the third line resolves it with a “twist” or surprise. "Will you read one of yours?" The request ignites a blush of pleasure As I find my poem, discreetly marked up ready, just in case.  My voice rings out with confidence, carefully masking my nerves.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Day 19:  write a humorous rant. You may excoriate to your heart’s content all the things that get on your nerves.  There's something we suffer from in this house The common, but seldom diagnosed condition Of Almost But Not Quite-itis. It can start slowly,  but if left untreated It will spread,  to other parts of your life, to your partner.  Once it takes hold you will find: Socks on the floor next to the washing basket,  Empty packaging on the worktop over the bin, Piles of books on the stairs,   A tottering pile of washing up left to drain, Bags or piles of weeds scattered over the garden,  Sofas with no room to sit down,  Decorated rooms with one detail left to finish,  Letters waiting on the mantel shelf for the next trip to the post box. You'd think these little things would add up Would point towards a diagnosis,   Be enough for behavioural change. Almost,  but not quite.   © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger...

Day 18:  write a poem based on the title of one of the chapters from Susan G. Wooldridge’s  Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words . It's a book on how to write poetry,  but written in such a way as to inspire you with its own words.  The chapter title I've chosen is "On a night picnic" - not something I've ever done, but this imaginary outing may persuade me to try it.  Ticking off our list of 'romantic things to do' We check the forecast on the longest day, Agree it's not cheating to go on the lightest night, Indulge in a light supper - to take the edge off -  Collect our things together.  The car park is empty, bar a few Late dog walkers, teenage chancers, So we sit awhile, absorbing the silence Before choosing the perfect spot Overlooking the Estuary.  After a day full of action, it takes a moment more of busyness Sorting out blankets, chairs, picnic basket,  Before we can calm our minds,  Focus on the here and now,  Breathe i...

 Day 17:  write a poem that is about, or that involves, the moon. A cobweb travesty of the moon Rides the sky in daylight, A gossamer ghost of its nighttime self When its cool, blue luminance Throws a velvet sheen Over peaceful,  empty streets.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Day 16: ' relax with the rather silly form called Skeltonic, or tumbling, verse. In this form, there’s no specific number of syllables per line, but each line should be short, and should aim to have two or three stressed syllables. And the lines should rhyme. You just rhyme the same sound until you get tired of it, and then move on to another sound.   Skeltonic verse is a fun way to get some words on the page without racking your brains for deep meaning. It’s a form that lends itself particularly well to poems for children, satirical verse, and just plain nonsense.'   No pain, no gain I'm going back to the gym - I've even booked a swim - I'm expecting it to be grim Waking my dormant limbs.  But I've sat in this chair far too long It's started to feel I belong.  I know my muscles will shake  And my whole body will ache  But avoiding the pain's a mistake - When I get home I can flake!  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

 Day 15:    think about a small habit you picked up from one of your parents, and then to write a piece that explores an early memory of your parent engaged in that habit, before shifting into writing about yourself engaging in the same habit.  Each year, as if caught unawares By the àpproach of the firm's Dinner Dance My mother would try on her dress, sigh,   Then buy a new corset (surely two sizes too small) And order me to hook her in.  The beast, designed to encase from breast to hip Was made of stern stuff - The strongest elastic known to man.  Instructed to start at the top and work down I heaved each hook towards its eye Wary of causing pain, But Mum was made of sterner stuff.  Gradually the metal ladder inched down, Coming together, squeezing her soft flesh Into rigid submission. It was an armour of sorts Against the judgement she so feared.  Later she would ask me to paint her nails -  A chance for us to forgive each other ...

 Day 14: write a poem about the meaning of your first or last name.  I've recently written one based on my surname,  so here's one on my "Christian" name.  Tired of being told I'm a "follower of Christ" when I'm paganly not, I come across the Urban Dictionary, where "people define their own world" And I begin to recognise myself again.  "Easy to be around": a good start! Uncontroversial,  calming,  relaxing - I'd like to be around someone like that.  "Witty,  intelligent,  good sense of humour": What me? Too kind. But it's true I love learning, Enjoy puns; just don't ask me to tell you a joke!  "Caring,  sympathetic,  a great listener": another tick! This is something I've been told all my life, along with - You care too much to be a professional counsellor.  "Honest,  trustworthy,  dependable": hmmm, in the main. It's hard to tell a lie, impossible to break a promise,  But can...

 Day 13:  write a poem in the form of a news article you wish would come out tomorrow. In a move sure to please grandmas  Up and down the country,  SAGE yesterday advised the government,  That despite previous concerns, No evidence had been found o f children  Under the age of puberty Passing the virus on to adults, Especially those who had received both vaccinations.    After the Prime Minister's announcement  In which he called for cautious restraint,  There were scenes reminiscent of a Breugel painting: Streets in every city, town and village Were full of giddy grannies this morning,    Hugging their grandchildren tightly,  Smothering them in kisses,  Holding hands and dancing in circles,  Swinging them high up into the air,  Crying tears of joy and laughter.  Scientists are following the data carefully To be ready in case of any upswing.   © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved...

Day 12: I'm going off prompt today,  with one of my own.  Facebook is great for many things; one of my favourites is the 'memories' it gives you of this day in previous years.  Snapshots of this day Six years ago I posted a photo of seedlings -  Runner beans and courgettes, newly germinated, Soaking up warmth through the porch window.  Five years ago I lunched in Bristol, with friends I used to work with; we would meet every two months  To swap news of holidays, gardens, family.  Four years ago we were ending the Cotswold Way When we heard the wonderful news: Our third grandchild had been delivered safely.  Three years ago I was proud of a cushion I'd made to sit on top of our shoe cupboard;  I thought it very smart, almost professional.  Two years ago I declared: I am an organ donor! In the event of my death (surely a long while yet) Give my organs to someone who needs them.   One year ago we were in the Bay of Biscay Cruising...

 Day 11:  write a two-part poem, in the form of an exchange of letters. The first stanza (or part) should be in the form of a letter that you write either to yourself or someone in the past. The second part should be the letter you receive in response. This exchange was based on a visit to a therapist/counsellor around the turn of the millennium,  a time when lots of us were asking questions about where life was taking us.  Dear Ms Therapy,  Can you tell me if I'll ever be free Of this feeling that nothing's ever enough? I'm fed up with this stuff Going round and round inside my head, So I thought I'd ask an expert instead.  I know I'm well off, life's far from crappy, But it's been a long time since I felt truly happy.  Is that superficial, selfish, greedy? Am I just simply being too needy? Dear Chris I don't have the answer, but can tell you this: You need to ask yourself a simple question,  Balance the two halves of this vital equation: Is your...

 Day 10: today's prompt is    “ Junk Drawer Song ,” and comes to us from the poet   Hoa Nguyen . First, find a song with which you are familiar – it could be a favorite song of yours, or one that just evokes memories of your past. Listen to the song and take notes as you do, without overthinking it or worrying about your notes making sense. Next, rifle through the objects in your junk drawer – or wherever you keep loose odds and ends that don’t have a place of their own. On a separate page from your song-notes page, write about the objects in the drawer, for as long as you care to. Now, bring your two pages of notes together and write a poem that weaves together your ideas and observations from both pages. I took as my song "Happy" by Pharrell Williams, because it always makes me feel positive,  even in the face of life's messes.  "Give me all you've got Can't nothing bring me down" Like a room without a roof, l ike a miniature tardis The drawer t ak...

Day 9:  write a poem in the form of a “to-do list.” The fun of this prompt is to make it the “to-do list” of an unusual person or character. For example, what’s on the Tooth Fairy’s to-do list? Or on the to-do list of Genghis Khan? Of a housefly?   I've been noticing the odd bee in our garden,  buzzing around looking for flowers to visit in this early spring weather,  so it seemed a natural choice.  The hive has warmed earlier than expected Alive with the buzz of expectation.  A good thing: last year there weren't enough hours in the day Especially as not everybee pulls their weight - Naming no names, but you know who you are drones - With careful planning we can do this.  One: attend the briefing,  Be assigned my allocated sector, Research the flowers expected in bloom.   Two: get my wings tuned. They're making an odd noise Not quite up to the vigour of last year's buzz.  Three: Stop off for breakfast. The honeycomb is running dry ...

 Day8: inspiration today comes from from  Edgar Lee Masters’ 1915 book  Spoon River Anthology . The book consists of well over 100 poetic monologues, each spoken by a person buried in the cemetery of the fictional town of Spoon River, Illinois.   Write a  poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead.   It was really difficult to decide on someone,  but I've chosen the lovely lady I only ever knew as "Ma"; the farmer's wife living in Devon who took in my father as an evacuee during WW2, and subsequently adopted us all as family. She was a very spiritual person. Did you know we were cousins? Despite the frowns, the gossip, dire warnings, We fell in love, got married, Created a home on our dairy farm.   Despite passion we remained childless,  Trusting in a benevolent God To bring us happiness.  What a miracle it was - The war brought us two strong boys To join our farming family,  Gave us the chance to raise th...