Our poems jam Tuesday night set a record for participants – a total of 12, almost 13, with a record number of prompts by @tspoetry (28 in all). All of the prompts were taken from The Squirrel’s Birthday and Other Parties, by Toon Tellegen.
A few changes for this Twitter poem.
First, I’ve modified the usual approach to editing one of our poetry jams and moved all of the prompts to the very end.
Second, the large number of tweets, and the larger number of participants, more than doubled the overall length of the final. So I’ve edited the contributions into smaller but related poems, and this post is only Part 1. Part 2 will come tomorrow.
Third, I’ve generally followed the chronological order in which the contributions were made, but I had to make some changes, because a few of the tweets fell later in the flow. So I moved them where they fit.
Fourth, I had to create some post-jam transitions.
All of that said, this turned out to be, I think, the best one yet.
The Animals Come to a Party: Poems
By @Doallas, @llbarkat, @RobinMArnold, @redclaydiaries, @lauraboggess, @poemsandprayers, @mxings, @shrinkingcamel, @TchrEric, @mhsteger, @gyoung9751 and @moondustwriter; prompted by @tspoetry; some inspiration by @lorrie58; and a smidgen of editing by @gyoung9751
Gifts
Gifts of wood
warm me,
gifts of honey
make me sweet
gifts of air;
help me send
my word
to you,
your word
so sweet,
dewy with
anticipation.
The gift a giver;
the gift of steam
and scent;
the gift of
impatience.
Shivering under a quilt,
I wished for a gift of wood.
Party Treats to Eat
Cake so sweet
lasts not long.
Scent, however, lingers
as fine a memory as any.
Honey flowing,
smooth as a river.
Did someone say cake?
Someone definitely said
that magic word of
flour and icing.
Cake!
Dragonfly cake
Glistens
with dew of tongue.
Dragonfly
on air,
barely there like gossamer,
sweet emerald, sapphire
gift.
Sapphire wings
carry scent to me,
emerald me,
bewitch the cake maker.
Gems for
a gem
held close
take flight.
Emerald memories
Sparkle
yet illuminate not.
Torn wisps,
whipped clouds,
sugar on cone like air.
Sugar water
is sweet on
skin.
Memory of home,
memory of then,
dragonfly hovers, turns,
returns
on sugary wings
of gossamer.
Sugar cone,
your lips pressed to
waffled edge,
and I wish I were, for
this moment,
vanilla, or even pistachio.
I would take you where I could go,
if I could.
Where Water Ends
If I were impatient for you
dear, for sapphire moments,
emerald memories,
would you take me
where water ends
sweet as dew
kissed night?
Water
so elemental
refreshes the thirst
and lets glisten
both sapphire wings
and emerald eyes.
Slow air moving
touches the fog
blue web of evening.
The field empty, the water still,
the glade yet untouched.
The water lily,
Pink petals closed,
Green leaf shining wet.
The Birds Peck at Cakes
Ah, but the scent of cake draws me,
deep thick fog
carries scents
of spice-filled cakes
across still waters,
drawing you near
the cake maker.
Cakes half eaten,
strewn on dew-covered grass;
a lone blue heron
majestically nibbles
edges of sugared icing.
The man of words
sees the cake;
he brings sweet icing.
I can’t say,
wasn’t that a party? Can I?
And what was in the
cake exactly?
Feathers of swan
lightly trip
the air;
beak of heron catches wind
song of thrush;
sings yet of you
lost in fog’s deep ink.
Glass water
reveals what is in
your eyes.
Through the fog
a blackbird,
Red-winged blackbird
perched in dormant eastern
sun
like love’s death
cawing
heart, takes wing;
words die
and love falters
again.
Stop, sings the blackbird;
the south wind is blowing.
Technical Interruption
Suddenly, from the other,
underworldly place, the
one never spoken of,
reached through rooted earth,
(SURPRISE!).
A camel, shrunken, joins the party.
A dromedary,
emerging from leaf litter,
proclaimed,
“I’ma let you finish, but…”
I’m here;
just copying and
pasting like a
crazy person.
Midwestern man
copies love,
death, kisses
into boxes.
And he, the speechwriter,
he that cutteth and pasteth
with due nobility,
doth increaseth his
worth among the
frenzied minstrels.
Thus the camel,
he that speaketh in
King James tongue
rather than poetic rhyme,
he worries that he hath
made ruinous plunder.
G’NIGHT!
The camel,
having been through the marsh,
exits through the trees.
Ah, camel, come back;
you stay not long
enough.
Party Songs
Birds falling from sky,
what kind of greeting
might this be,
what omen yet awaits the telling?
Is it possible they have
forgotten my memory?
Is it possible you have forgotten?
A birthday perhaps
you, never.
Swaying fingers
above half-
closed lids
sing lullaby;
I’ll wait for you.
This
looking glass
is broken;
the jagged edge
of broken
looking glass
reflects the beauty
of the broken
and one is made whole.
A looking glass,
lighting softly,
and looking to see,
a mirror
filled to overflowing,
warm and still,
half or whole? I cannot tell.
Mole and earthworm:
who would think
ones so different
could a dance make.
Mole and earthworm
sang through the night,
first one, then the other. Their
dance shakes beech
to core
unquietly bending limbs,
swaying limbs
ground-touching.
Once, the dragonfly glowed
like moon cake crumbs
strewn o’er waters;
I nibble at the memory of it,
feeling light through dark
reaching up and back again
and back again.
The crumbs of cake stale,
facets of stone,
unbreakable,
hardened bits
of sugar
sink.
The Hippo in the Trees?
Where are you?
Hippo has no time,
for moon cake
make him sleepy.
A hippo in
deciduous mixed
growth forest?
Twas hippo looked
in looking glass;
no friend it be.
Shall I creep
through underbrush to find
you, sugar-crusted against
the starry night?
Seriously, where are you?
Camel and hippo,
fighting sleep, pillage mooncakes
and spook herons.
Mist glistening
on hippo’s back,
re-casting star
light
hide not
on starry night.
Whale? Hippo?
The camel pondered as he plundered,
then concluded that he
should’ve passed on those cakes.
Hippo searched
and found
the one place
he might be alone
off water’s edge.
Deep in he went,
Silence
his friend.
and slept,
dreaming of emerald
blue and sky.
Alone, you lay
upon the rocks.
I remember your shadow
Salted.
Tender light of morning
stains the sky,
tangled in dreams,
draped and strewn
angel wings or dragonfly
iridescent camouflage.
Prompts
All prompting quotes were taken from The Squirrel’s Birthday and Other Parties, by Toon Tellegen.
”Gifts of wood, gifts of honey, and gifts of air, gifts to eat and gifts to put on your head in wintertime, or on your tail…”
“He thought deeply and then baked a cake made of only water for the dragonfly.”
“Most of the cakes were still steaming and spreading a sweet scent. They seemed to be glistening with impatience.”
“Is it possible that they have forgotten it’s my birthday?”
“The swan and the heron swooped down from the sky, followed by the thrush.”
“They ate for hours and hours, until everyone fell over, slipped to the ground to lie on his back in the grass…”
“And there were still half and whole cakes everywhere.”
“The thrush, the blackbird, and the nightingale sang a song on a branch in the middle of the beech tree…”
“The thrush, the blackbird, and the nightingale sang a song on a branch in the middle of the beech tree…”
“Under the ground, between the roots of the beech tree, the mole and the earthworm danced.”
“The glowworm didn’t glow anymore, and the hippo yawned, stretched, and disappeared in the undergrowth.”
“The mist crept low over the ground and wrapped itself around the bushes.”
“Far away in the ocean, between a few rocks close to the bottom of a trough, lived the whale.”
“He lay motionless in the deep water and gazed into the distance.”
“He lay there all alone. He didn’t get many visitors.”
“Dear Whale, I’m not sure if you exist, but I’m inviting you to my party anyway. Tomorrow on the beach. If you exist, will you come?” signed, “The seagull”
“The whale was so surprised that he sighed deeply and briefly lost sight of the whole world.”
“And from the deepest depths of the ocean, he swam to the beach. He arrived there early in the evening.”
“the whole beach was decorated with algae, seaweed and shells, and other things he’d never seen before.”
“That evening the whale met the shark, the dogfish, and the skate; he saw the tern and the albatross and even the ant.”
“…the whale rested a fin on the seagull’s shoulder, while the seagull draped a wing around the whale’s middle.”
“Then they danced, silently and seriously, on the moon-drenched beach, to the sound of the slow surf.”
“Everyone held their breath and thought, ‘No one has ever danced like this before.’
“As far as he was concerned, time could stop right there, that night, on the beach, at the seagull’s party.”
“You know, ” the dragonfly said, “I’m always afraid that I won’t have enough, or that it’ll be worthless–that’s why I hide.”
“But the dragonfly had already disappeared behind a leaf of the bush, early on the evening of his birthday.”
- Poets and Poems: Jules Jacob & Sonja Johanson and “Rappaccini’s Garden: Poisonous Poetry” - October 8, 2024
- Poets and Poems: Ellen Kombiyil and “Love as Invasive Species” - October 1, 2024
- Poets and Poems: Emily Patterson and “Haiku at 5:38 a.m.” - September 24, 2024
L.L. Barkat says
In all that whimsy, you found poignancy. And humor!
I liked SO many things. Here’s just one:
“And what was in the
cake exactly?”
Maureen Doallas says
Seriously, where are you? Just makes me laugh, remembering the evening, as I, too, felt that way at times during our hour together. My screen wasn’t updating quickly enough, so I was hitting the back button on and off to see whose was contributing what and then trying to respond.
Can’t wait for Part 2. You put a magic touch on these tweets and gave them a perfect title.
laura says
Maureen…
That’s where “seriously, where are you?” came from! I lost you guys; my screen just stopped updating. I felt very self-conscious sitting alone on my couch waiting. This is a marvelous edit! So fun.
Linda says
Excellent, excellent work! You all did a great job.