Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Relaunch of The Poetry Bug

Once upon a time, The Poetry Bug was a featured column at Perpetual Prose. After that short-lived experiment, The Bug went into hibernation.

But now The Bug lives again. New home. New look. Same premise.

The Poetry Bug will deal with the mechanics of writing poetry and look at resources and markets for poets, but I also want to explore the human factor--the emotions that go into writing a poem, whether negative or positive, humorous or serious. After all, a poem without some sort of emotional context is just words strung together like plastic pearls.

Whenever possible, I’ll also be interviewing poets in an effort to get inside their creative processes and showcase their contributions to the form. If you want to get “bugged” (or make a comment or suggestion), drop me a line.

In the meantime, I encourage all you budding and practiced poets to follow the lead of Robert Lee Brewer, host of the annual Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides. The premise is simple even if the task is not. Write one poem a day for an entire month.

I tried to participate once but found myself pulled away by other matters. While some of my efforts were less than stellar, I did manage to surprise myself a few times. 

I’ll share two of my favorites with you right now.

Almost There

Landmarks guide our travels
Over new terrain and old
Familiar sights on a long journey
Taken many times before

Father steers the station wagon
Winding down a two-lane highway
Late at night embraced by fog
Headlights catch the tendril swirl

Broken at last by the crumbling
Yellow hulk, a landlocked berg
Haunted by voices long lost at sea
Still carried on phantom telegraph lines

“Almost there,” mother says
Children shuffle in the dark
Passing, missing, in the night
Souls who echo, “Almost there.”

The Mantle Clock

         the mantle clock
fly away a faster day
shorter than
the past, what’s gone
will still be
gone, no turning
         the mantle clock

Remember. If the poetry bug bites, don’t swat. Just write. And let the little guy fly on to his next target.

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