Mythopoesis 26 – Unraveling The Poem

For NaPoWriMo Day 26

And For The Sunday Whirligig: Whirligig #4 http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

mottled, velour, purse, ink, dissonant, shade, stain, lace, diaphanous, clip, iridescent, weather

ex2a3 (2)abUnraveling The Poem

But, Darien sir, I still don’t
understand how a poem
can be a kitten?

Well, Joey, I said that a poem
is about a moment, or an experience.
But , that is only the beginning.
A poem can be anything. It is
whatever the poet wants it to be.
Maliah used metaphor in her poem.
That is a direct comparison between
two dissimilar things. By telling and showing
us the kitten, she was telling and showing
us about the poem.

Joey turns a confused
look on the man
from
Interlude.

First, Maliah told us the kitten
was white with a black heart spot
in the middle of his forehead.
We already know that black and white
are opposites, and there is a great
deal of distance between those two things.
The head is concerned with thoughts, ideas,
logic, while the heart is about feelings.
This may often cause a certain dissonance
within the individual, a conflict, or disagreement.
You said you could see the kitten playing
but it didn’t make sense that a poem
could be a kitten. A poem,
this poem, was as playful as that kitten,
but also pointed out a very real experience.
We all have moments when our heads
and hearts are telling us two different things.
I could just as easily say that this poem
is a Joey with mottled ink stains
on each of his five fingers.
That might be because Joey only owns
one ink pen. It’s old and leaky.
But Joey is like that kitten that wants
to grow, to learn, to know. So Joey,
like that kitten, and this poem, just keeps using
what he has, keeps reaching for what he wants.

Joey looks down at his hand, smiles
a sad smile, then slowly
raises the hand
to show his classmates
different shades
of ink stains
on his fingers. Some
of the children smile,
but Julie reaches
into her book bag/purse
and offers him
two extra pens
from the many she owns.

And the man from Interlude, aware
of bright glare in Joey’s eyes,
points to the sky and says, “It looks
like the weather might become disagreeable.
Perhaps we should stop for now
and continue tomorrow.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/26/15

Notes: Again, this is a continuation of my experiment with mythopoesis (making-myth). The poem, being discussed within the post, may be found here: https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2015/04/11/mythopoesis-11-dreaming-a-poem/ Trying to use the word list was difficult, but I did manage to use 8 of the 12. The image is a kaleidoscope made from a pen and ink zen doodle.

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Mythopoesis 25 – What Is A Poem

For NaPoWriMo  Day 25

10-30-11 Zentangle 8What Is A Poem?

Embarrassed by his open display
of exuberance, the man from Interlude
bowed his head after telling the child
that her mother was a wise teacher.
She smilingly nodded.

The children’s teacher stepped
forward saying, You are Darien,
of the Counsel of Bards, are you
not?

Nodding, “Yes, I am, but how
would you know that? It has been
a long while since I have spoken
to the Counsel.”

When I was still in school, I went
to the city to hear you read. Aside
from your beard, you look much
the same and your voice still holds
a certain timber that is hard to forget.
Will you stay a while and speak to us
about poetry, the making of poems,
Maliah’s poem, and why you
clapped after hearing it?

Looking around at all those expectant
faces, nodding, he walked over to a boy,
who sat apart. Unaware of Maliah’s swift
fearful glance at her teacher, he squatted
in front of the child and asked, “Can you tell me
what you thought about the poem?”

I kinda liked it, but didn’t understand
how a poem could be a kitten. That
just doesn’t make sense.

“That’s very good. The poem made you
think. Can you tell me what you heard
when Maliah was reading her poem?”

I heard about a small kitten
exploring his world.

“And what did you see, inside of your head,
when you heard about that kitten?”

Grinning, I saw the kitten, small,
white, with a black heart spot
in the middle of his forehead. He
reaches with his paws, smells things,
and probably chews on a lot of them.

“What did you feel when you heard
and saw all of that?”

Sort of happy and light, like
that bouncing, pouncing kitten.
I wanted to be there, playing
with him. And a bit sad that I
couldn’t be there.

“Very good. What is your name?”

Joey.

“Well, Joey, I asked you those questions
because the teacher has asked me
to talk about poems and making them.
There are three things a good poem should do.
It should use words to tell you about a moment,
or an experience. More important, it should use
those words to create a picture of that moment.
And most important of all, it should make you
feel like you are in that moment and maybe
help you see something about yourself.
Your answers to my questions tell me
that Maliah’s poem is a very good poem
because it did all of those things.”

Elizabeth Crawford 4/25/15

Notes: This post is a bit lengthy. However, I feel that it is at the crux of this myth-making experiment, so trust that it will all make sense, eventually. Because I am still without a computer, I’ve been reading a great deal, or doodling. Which means I’ve been revisiting Dean Koontz. In one of his books, I found a brief paragraph about what makes a poem, a good poem. Because I agree with what he wrote, I used his explanation, putting it into my own words and the context of this piece of the myth.
The image is a free-hand, pen and ink zendala I created several years ago.

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Mythopoesis 24 – The Learning Begins

For NaPoWriMo Day 24

ex2d1btrial2

The Learning Begins

The circle of children and teacher
sat in shade of a huge oak, refreshed
by a gentle breeze rustling softly
through overhanging leaves.

He sat, leaning back against
its trunk, surprised at the smile
and nod he received from
the teacher (as though she’d
been expecting him).

Gathering the children’s
attention, she told them
of a surprise treat she’d brought
for them, a poem written by
one of their own: Maliah.

The child slowly stood up,
clearing her throat, she began
to read her poem (that was a kitten)
in a light soprano voice that easily
reached the ears of all who listened.

Especially those of the man
who had traveled from Interlude.
By the time the child had finished,
he was grinning, eyes alight with
brightness of joy. Unable
to resist, he was on his feet,
clapping his hands and whistling.

Stopping abruptly, realizing that all
eyes had swiveled toward his person. Some
smiling, others not able to hide their
questioning curiosity.
In a rush to explain, opening his mouth
he began to speak.

That is a boomerang
poem, do you know that? Turning
to the child, he asked, Who taught
you about this kind of poem?

With a wide smile, she simply said,
My Mama.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/24/15

Notes: Very late today. Several things interfered, but I finally finished. Can only hope, I’ll do better tomorrow. Image is a kaleidoscope created from one of my zen doodles. The center image is a pen and ink drawing that I merged within the kaleidoscope.

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Mythopoesis 23 – Continuing The Journey

For NaPoWriMo Day 23

dscn1962-2Continuing The Journey

Although he had left the small
market town behind him, he’d
encountered no one in the days
that followed. Yet, was more than
content with his thoughts
and companionship of birds, their
songs, the landscape unfolding
as he slowly moved through it.

The myth he’d heard in the market
place stayed with him, reminding
him of other times and places.
How want and desire can and do
create impatience as they seek
their own satisfaction. How that
impatience may turn a want
into a need, that ripples outward
and may affect all it touches for
generations.

Memories of the woman he’d met,
and her practice of delayed satisfaction.
If she found herself wanting a piece
of chocolate, she’d resist immediate
consumption, putting it off for three
days. And how that waiting made
the chocolate more sweet, as well
as more satisfying somehow.

These ruminations had given him
focus, perhaps some direction, as
he continued his journey toward
an unknown destination. At that
moment, he rounded a bend
that ended in a clearing where
a large wood cabin had been built.

In the foreground, he saw a group
of children, sitting in a circle
surrounding a woman who was
obviously teaching them. Deciding
to join them, he slowly moved
in their direction.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/23/15

Notes: Took a break for Earth Day yesterday and enjoyed posting for the Challenge I had created. Last night, I realized that I only had about seven more days to finish this myth-making experiment, so knew it was time to bring the man from Interlude into contact with the child and her mother. We shall see what happens next. Between my sporadic posting yesterday, I was rereading the first book in the Odd Thomas series, written by Dean Koontz. In it, Odd’s girlfriend Stormy, explains her practice of delayed satisfaction. Love that synchronicity. Image is a photo taken last summer.

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Earth Day Challenge 6

For Earth Day Challenge
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

RSCN3964

https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2014/02/24/an-albatross-of-difficult-scribbling/

Please click on the above link to read poem and view the photo.

Elizabeth

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Earth Day Challenge 5

For Earth Day Challenge
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/

Leap of Faith

https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2012/09/18/leap-of-faith/

Please click on the above link to read poem and see photo

Elizabeth

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Earth Day Challenge 4

For Earth Day Challenge
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

In The Way of The Hawk

Photograph by J.G.

Photograph by J.G.

https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2009/06/23/in-way-of-the-hawk/

Please click on the above link to read the poem.

Elizabeth

 

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