Showing posts with label anaphora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anaphora. Show all posts

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Watching

Sun always watches from afar:
watches flowers burst into vibrant colors,
watches the slow, inevitable changing of seasons,
watches the heinous deeds of humanity
performed with false certainty of privacy.

Sun watches everything, knows everything,
except for the existence of Moon,
who watches Sun,
from the protective shadow
of her brother Earth.
Sun is too caught up in watching
to notice he is being watched.


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Notes: So, the first prompt on The Journal is "Write an Anaphora poem. An Anaphora is 'the repetition of a word or expression several times within a clause or within a paragraph.' In poetry the repetition of the phrase can be just at the beginning of each line, setting the tone as a meditation or a mantra, or it can be utilized more subtlety within the poem. The poem can be free verse or prose style." I decided that I'm going to go in order so that I don't accidentally miss one. The word I chose to repeat was "watch."

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

NaPoWriMo #6 - Converse with Images

Today's prompt was to write a poem based off of an image and the memories associated with it...

Back then

I still remember
standing with you in front of the camera
with our chubby cheeks and jack-o-lantern smiles
giving each other bunny ears like it was an Olympic sport.
Me, in my garish fuschia leggings
that only a child could wear and not be embarrassed.
You, in a hand-me-down shirt from our older neighbor.

I still remember
what it felt like when the world was small.
Back then, my favorite animal was the t-rex,
and you played the trombone.
Back then, we collected Pokémon cards,
even though we didn't know what to do with them.

Back then, I still understood you.

Monday, April 5, 2010

NaPoWriMo #5 - Make Your Poetry Personal

So today's prompt was to personify our poetry and give it a name.... It actually wasn't as hard as I thought it would be after I came up with a name.


Poetry

You are Ash,
short for Ashley,
the name I was almost given.
A part of me,
and yet completely separate.

You are Ash,
like what remains
after hurt and anger
burn through my body
and are extinguished by tears.

You are Ash,
the black chalky substance
I smear into words on the page:
imperfect, smudged,
yet beautiful in your honesty.