A Thoughtful Poem

What have wishing words giv’n me
Besides a wand’ring mind
What have whirling words giv’n me
Besides the need to rhyme;

Would I sit; soliloquy
If I had never known
Would I stare; tranquility
Whilst others study phones;

Am I the higher, better one
To wander, rhyme, and muse
Am I the thoughtful, ‘lightened one
Or am I just amused?

The Power of the Word

I love words, and I always have.

Whilst pregnant; my mother swallowed Agatha Christie and James Herriot and Ogden Nash, sending their formatted prose intra-umbilically to my formatting body. After I was out and able to lay still; the fare included A Child’s Garden of Verses, Shel Silverstein, Ramona Quimby, and Twig. Once literate by my own merits (and from my mother’s example); I devoured Laura Ingalls Wilder, Arabian Nights, Bruce Coville, and Anthem.

I vowed to read every book ever written. I thought my goal an attainable one.

In the meantime, my literary diet supplemented my grammatical learning. Unlike many writers, I do not have a degree in the craft. My teachers were Charlotte Brontë, Mary Shelley, and Douglas Adams. They taught me by example and expanded my lexicon to precocious measures.

In this way, I blame them for my problem.

I love words and am not afraid of them. I play with adjectives, verbs, and nouns like a small child with a treasure chest of his favorite playthings. Yes, I sometimes smash them together and finger paint a Jackson Pollock-worthy story. Yes, I sometimes roll terms into shapes like Play-Doh and end up with noun-verbs and adjective-nouns.

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Every now and then I step back from my mishmash meter, sigh with contentment, and behold a magnificent mural.

Between times, however, my words have a tendency to cause mischief. I’ve used strong words to accurately describe my feelings, and inaccurate words in feeling ways. I’ve intentionally poked and stabbed to incite a reaction. A handful of times, I have drawn on The Power of Words to move a people to action.

I am, naturally, a novice at wordweaving. I worry at trying a spell when I haven’t passed all the levels. I tell myself not to dabble until I become a master.

I have also ticked some people off.

And yet, I cannot stay away. The bubbling brew of prosaic verse simmers warmly, invitingly, lovingly. Come hither, it tempts, I will not harm thee

What say ye, wordspellers? How do words speak to you, how do you listen, and how (in turn) do you release the power that builds as you chant your incantations?

—————

We’ve crafted for another week. Here’s what I created:
Wednesday, February 20: Is Harry Potter a good book? Read what I thought and what many insightful comments determined in “To Potter or Not to Potter?
Thursday, February 21: “The Cure for Depression: Don’t Be Hatin’ on Medicatin’,” another suggestion in a series originally posted over at The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog.
Friday, February 22: Winner of the Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Congratulations to Peregrine Arc!
Saturday, February 23: Announced the 14th Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. We’re doing parodies of pop songs. PLEASE ENTER!
Sunday
, February 24: “Dot on the Brown,” my poem response to the famous Frank Prem’s “speck on the blue.”
Monday, February 25: “Wilhelmina Winters, Eighty-Three.”
Tuesday, February 26:  An inspirational quote by Maya Angelou. Smile at home, everyone.
Also, noted that I now have 500 Followers! Thanks again, everyone!!
Wednesday, February 27: Today‘s post.

I also posted all this week at my motherhood site. My favorite (and the internet’s) was my poem, “A Poem About Socks.”

And, I wrote a piece for Kids are the Worst titled “12 Fun and Easy Cabin Fever Fixes.” Don’t worry; there’s plenty of my good, old-fashioned sarcasm to keep things interesting.

 

Photo Credit:
Amaury Salas

FREE Contest: The Second Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the second Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. I am your hostess, Chelsea Owens.

Please, please read my wonderful blog post, How To Write Terrible Poetry, then note the following rules:

  1. The topic is sour grapes.
  2. It’s shorter than the last contest. Keep your poem below 150 words but above 5. That means anywhere from 6-149 words.
  3. To rhyme, or not this thyme? Again, up to you.
  4. And remember: the poem needs to be terrible. I want your high school poetry club teacher to pat you on the back for how many ways you failed to write the word ‘love’ or ‘agony.’ (Please do not literally use ‘love’ and ‘agony’ 50 times, assuming it’s a requirement.)
  5. Keep it PG-Rated.

Think you can do it? You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (November 23, 2018) to submit. Write it early ’cause I don’t want to see anyone coming here instead of to their family’s house for Thanksgiving.

Post your poem or the specific link to it in the comments.

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Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the very first Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. I am your host, Chelsea Owens.

Your first contest has the following rules:

  1. The topic is elective surgery.
  2. It’s short. Keep your poem below 200 words but above 4. That means anywhere from 5-199 words.
  3. To rhyme, or not this day? Up to you.
  4. And remember: the poem needs to be awful. I want to cringe. I want to scrub my eyes and go lick something to clear my artistic palate. -though, G-Rated.

Think you can do it? You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (November 16, 2018) to submit. Post your poem or the specific link to it in the comments.

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Poetry Contest Writing Thingie

I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I want to start a poetry writing prompt contest thing on my site.

Yes, here.

Yes, I still intend to randomly have a caption contest as well. -In fact, I had intended for that one to be monthly or quarterly, but got a bit sidetracked in keeping my children alive over the summer.

On to the poetry:

Every week, I will announce a topic and parameters. People may enter by posting their entire poem in the comments, or a post-specific link. I will read through the entries and pick my favorite. Said favorite is the winner and gets his/her post listing his/her poem and announcing that he or she is The Grand Poet Master of the Week.

The best part?

This will always be a contest for the very worst poetry you can write. *Ahem* And G-Rated. I’m not gonna want to tread through some of my reader’s minds (you know who you are)….

So…. Every Saturday at 8 a.m. MST (UTC-7, though UTC-6 during Daylight Savings), I will post the rules and prompt. Every Friday of the following week at 8 a.m. I will announce who won. You’ll have that week to write something.

Are you game? I am. Tune in tomorrow and let’s have some fun!

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Sticks and Stones

What form are the words that leave your mouth?
Do you sour space, airing yesterday’s spoiled mistakes?
Does your listener flinch from flinty shards, falling as vengeful missiles?
Or, are you breathing delicacies that float gently, lightly glinting of sunshine?
Are your lips forming love like a bubble-blower sending happiness aloft?