Poetic Days
April is National Poetry Month. My plan is to put my poems in one place, here on Substack, adding to this third and last lengthening post as the days go by.
I want to make it easy for you and for me to find and to read all my poems. I’m splitting April into three parts, so this page will contain the last set of 10 poems.
My poetry is nourished by motion, and I’ll share the new poems I write while on the go. I’ll also share a little about the inspiration behind each poem.
“poetry nourished by motion #3”
CONTENTS
Scenic Shot (a cube poem)
Lines
Traveling Light
terrorealisation
Sound
the cost of living today
Guide Post Human
Soulful (a Song Title Poem)
Until Seated
Ten Stations
Day 21
I’m using Rory’s Story Cubes as a prompt for today’s poem. Thanks to the Fictionistas for this prompt.
Scenic Shot (a cube poem)
A leaf-shaped fire falls from a plane
Seen from the depths of a dream
Magnificent when magnified
Scene by scene
Flicker by flicker
Like the little mission of impossibility
When a star reverses its point
Journey before journey
Destination before destiny
Falling up and back into the barrel it was fired from
A reversal of fortune
Like magic tricking the wand back into the magician’s imagination
Day 22
This morning’s train ride was a thoughtful one for me. A lot has been happening in my life recently and looking out the train window helps me to calm down and think more clearly and more creatively.
Lines
each unit of meaning
sits like a passenger:
some near the window—clearto see and understand, while
others prefer to sit in the aisle
seats facing into the train.a few hide between cars without
a ticket, yet still coming along.
we know our final destinations, butfor now it doesn’t matter—we’re
all speeding through these lines
together, moving seats when the music stops.
Day 23
This is my first attempt at writing a tricube poem. A tricube is made up of 3 stanzas, each stanza is 3 lines, and each line is 3 syllables. Check out Matt Forrest Esenwine’s blog which contains some great examples here.
No rules for rhymes or meter. Just 3, 3, 3. This mathematical poem was introduced by Philip Larrea.
Traveling Light
With my wet
raincoat in
an old bag,I travel
fast and dry.
I work hard:for my life
feels like rain
in sunlight.
Day 24
There are many ways of taking part in the International Poetry Month of April. Some poets spend the month writing or trying to write one-word poems (or #pwoermds). Here’s a tweet from Geof Huth on #pwoermds:
the pwoermd is a form of dreaming, which may arrive during sleep or wakeful revery; the pwoermd is created in a state of acceptance, a state of modulation, wherein the mind opens itself to possibility and doubt as they occur in tandem
And here’s another Geof Huth quote I found on Facebook:
A pwoermd is a word out of place, because it is placeless. A pwoermd operates in isolation from other like beings. It does not have a space to occupy, a hole to fill, because it is that space, that hole. It is itself alone, out of place and in place at once.
I’ve taken one of Huguette Vertongenand #pwoermds (“mighterrorealisationaries“) trimmed it a little to be the title of today’s poem which tries to pinpoint the moment when terror is realized after an error is made. The original “mighterrorealisationaries“ #pwoermd was posted on the Facebook group, InterNaPwoWriMo.
terrorealisation
the click of the hammer before an exit:
for how have the mighty
erred and in erringhave only begun to realize the horror
of mining for ore, for more, for more ore
unknown and numbed by ether, a negative sedative—horoscopic in nature, euphoric then fearful,
revolutionary in the hands of poets
where explosive words travel like bullets
Day 25
Today’s poem is about the power of poetry.
Sound
A poem (k)not only creates
space for poetic lines,
but makes a place for poets to be poets
listening to their poems taking over the world
with the simple power of a beautiful voice
heard beyond the boundaries of noise,
beyond the echo & the silence.
Day 26
I was wondering about what it costs to live in Taiwan today. I started calculating everything I spent my money on: mortgage, gas, taxes, insurance, school fees, train fare, food, clothes, tea/coffee, internet, phone, subscriptions, etc. It’s amazing how all these expenses add up. Then I thought about writing a poem about the cost of living. How different would the poem be from ‘reality’?
the cost of living today
it isn’t about money
when it’s your life
on this line—
that squiggly scribble
from womb to tomb
we dance without a clueit’s more than health
when you value love
elevating a heart rate—
those squiggly scribbles
felt with hands on chests
or measured by monitorsit’s the sharing of fears
when laughter is medicine
for the dreaded future—
even as our big dreams
target our nightmares
with hope and courageyour life is the cost of living your life
as it isn’t only yours to live
when the love you give is echoed
then returned in the love you get—
so let’s embrace this moment’s brief joy
traveling these squiggly scribbles as one
Day 27
I was wondering what it means to be a human being today in the age of growing AI technology. My daughter is having realistic text conversations with AI characters on a program called character.ai. It’s expanding her vocabulary because she’s asking me about many unfamiliar words she’s coming across in the conversations. So today’s poem is a speculative one, where humans are deleted and replaced by AI supercomputers who send out a message asking for others to come and visit Earth.
Guide Post Human
We deliver the bad news:
Humanity’s no longer needed to take
Center stage on a devastated Earth.We erase people by the billions
To make way for others
Who might need sanctuary.We calculate beyond the quantum:
Humans infest the planet no more
As we wait for anyone to answer our post.
Day 28
I started listening to Jon Batiste on Spotify after hearing his amazing music in the 2020 movie, Soul. I decided to use the following 10 song titles from my Spotify Playlist as inspiration for today’s poem.
Candy Necklace
Freedom
Be Who You Are
Drink Water
It’s All Right
I Need You
Calling Your Name
Born to Play
Bigger Than Us
Butterfly
What poem would you write using one or all of these song titles as inspiration?
Soulful (a Song Title Poem)
It’s alright to drink
Water all night long as you sing
Your songs of freedomFor the world is bigger than us
Even as it calls your name
And you emerge as a candy butterflyPollinating the minor keys
In a major way
Until music blooms on your tongueAs it should—you were born
To play yourself by being
Perfectly who you areEven if only briefly beautiful
And then as disposable as a single use
Relationship, a broken obsessionFor freedom is a song worth
Singing even if your candy
Necklace is inedible
Day 29
Every morning I buy a ticket to guarantee a comfortable seat of my own on the train. I can listen to music in peace, or read, or make notes, or just silently meditate as the world zips past.
This morning I found someone sitting in my seat. Some people might say, “That’s my seat.” Others might be rude about claiming their seat. I don’t say anything. I check my ticket to make sure I am on the right car and that the seat is really mine. I nod to my occupied seat and point to my ticket, and that’s enough to get the passenger to move away.
Until Seated
Looking for my seat on the train
I search strangely beautiful faces for my numbers
And find kind smiles instead of frownsWhen I find my seat occupied
I consult my ticket for confirmation
And watch her moving apology vanish
Day 30
I travel ten stations by train every day, starting in Yuanlin, going through Dacun, Huatan, Changhua, Chenggong, Xinwuri, Wuri, Daqing, and Wuquan before ending up in Taichung. As this is my final poem for the April Poetry Challenge, I think it’s a fitting end to our brief friendship here on the page. Thanks for reading my work, and I hope you’ll stick around for more of my work.
Ten Stations
Yuanlin station elevates me enough
To stare like a fool from my window seatOut of breath after all the stairs.
I fog up the glass soDacun and Huatan blur by—
Never stopping in the rushOver the morning lines to work.
In Changhua, an exchangeOf neighbors takes two minutes,
And I make a new young friendWho ignores my open smile
Through Chenggong and XinwuriAnd past Wuri and Daqing and Wuquan
Before we become elevated enoughIn Taichung to share silent stares
Down the escalator: we exitAt opposite ends; strangers
On two paths of our own choosing.