Get your favorite steep (or brew) and join us in writing a poem based on Kim Addonizio’s “My Heart”—which ran recently at Every Day Poems.
In “My Heart,” the poet never says anything like “my heart is.” She simply begins describing her heart as follows…
That Mississippi chicken shack.
That initial-scarred tabletop,
that tiny little dance floor to the left of the band.
That kiosk at the mall selling caramels and kitsch…
Your Pour
Using the poem title “My Heart,” describe your own heart in images. If you like, you can follow Addonizio’s form as follows…
My Heart
That [regional thing]
That [type of furniture]
that [place you like to be]
That [business and item for sale]
Her poem goes on like this for fourteen lines before switching to a final “aim”:
That landing strip with no runway lights
where you are aiming your plane,
imagining a voice in the tower,
imagining a tower.
You can follow her poem’s end form, too, or take a detour. If you follow her poem’s end form, it will look something like this:
That [item in dark or light]
where you are [aiming something]
imagining [an item related to your aim]
imagining [what holds that item]
Sample My Heart Poem
My Heart
That New York winding creek
That worn wooden rocker, carved with lilies
That tea house with the movable door
That book store giving you a free tote
(painted with poems and art)
That antique vase, ruby and waiting,
That closet with the white lace gown,
those sheer sleeves drifting down (silken, so silken).
That hummingbird sugar, that nectar, that sweet breeze.
That tear-stained pillow
That chamber of laughter, round and deep—
those notes of a cello rising, falling
That mason jar with the golden cover
unlabeled, no date.
That dark universe with the comet someday returning
where you are aiming your telescope,
imagining glitter-dust inside an ancient stone,
imagining an ancient stone.
✨
Looking for more inspiring lines? Check out Every Day Poems!
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Jan Smith says
I love the heart poem!! Can’t wait to write my own and share the form with my students!
L.L. Barkat says
Wonderful, Jan.
If they write poems, and you want to share some with us, please do! 🙂
Bethany says
Glad this inspired you! Welcome to this space!
Bethany says
L.L., this is a beauty of a poem.
L.L. Barkat says
Thank you *so* much, Bethany.
I hope you’ll try the form. It’s a small challenge, but a doable one. If you try, I’d love to see…
🙂
Rick Maxson says
Winter Heart
The glistening of morning.
The window craze.
Long walk through a Timothy field,
the wood’s edge like a door.
The warming pace forward
The outcropping, the sky
laid on stone, birds of lichen there.
My breath in clouds and the wind,
sibilance against the bowing bare trees.
The beauty of a lonely sound.
The wistful shirt of memory.
The palms and shells that hide
the coming of a delicate cold,
twisted by a warming sea.
The child that turns toward distant
homes, then back across an ocean
wrinkled over rusted buckets.
The wet pearls of sand.
The falling snow,
God’s fingerprints brief and cold.
L.L. Barkat says
Love all the nature imagery that speaks of your heart, Rick. I can feel it. Like a cool and quiet walk in the woods. 🙂
Michelle Ortega says
“My breath in clouds and the wind,
sibilance against the bowing bare trees.”
Love this line, Rick, especially “sibilance.” Makes the image even more alive!
Laura Brown says
Love this, and the surprise of those fingerprints.
Toni says
Beautiful!
Michelle Ortega says
My Heart
that shifting shoreline
that beach chair at the water’s edge
that salty-charged breath
that pull beneath your feet
as the water ebbs and flows
that sea glass tumble
that broken shell
that snapper close to shore
that roadside stand
selling fresh conch salad
that bowl of citrus sea in hand
that other stand a few steps down
selling Bimini bread, that sweetness
and the breeze that wafts it to me
that full moon release
that glitter on the obsidian sea
stars freckling, speckling the sky
that uncharted ocean
where you are moving
with the wind above
or the current below
seeking hidden treasure.
(wish i was there!)
Michelle Ortega says
L. L., if I had to pick a heart out of a line-up, I’d know this was yours. 🙂
“those notes of a cello rising, falling
That mason jar with the golden cover
unlabeled, no date.”
I love the sound of the cello, and the way it rises and falls like a peaceful, comforting breath.
And the mason jar…if you don’t know, how can you ever open it? It can stayed unlabeled, no date, in perpetuity!
L.L. Barkat says
What a fun way to think about it, Michelle. My heart, in perpetuity. 🙂
I love all the sea imagery in yours. Oh, Jersey girl heart! Marvelous.
Sandra Heska King says
I’m late to this. But oh my heart. These poems are all tugging on my heartstrings.