Last February I challenged myself to write a poem every month for a year. I chose a different form each month and struggled to craft a poem that fit the parameters. Now that I’ve finished, here are all twelve poems with just a few tweaks (originally published in my monthly email newsletter — sign up here). I’ve also linked to the description of each poetic form in the Writer’s Digest Poetic Asides column.
One of the things I learned through this challenge is that I tend to focus on the rhythm and rhyme scheme rather than taking the time to work on the content and meaning of the poems. I’m glad I stretched myself and maybe I’ll try again after a break to work on a different type of writing exercise.
I hope you enjoy reading the poems!
February – Diminishing Verse
“Night Wind”
Lying wide-eyed as the crash
Of wind, insistent as a rash,
Fills the world, all shades of ash
My bed’s the only thing that’s still
Trees scrape at the shingles till
I’m the one feeling raw and ill
Fretful words who nag and preach
Circle my mind just out of reach
Repeating endlessly each to each
If I could embrace the rush and glide
Of wind, and bury the times I lied
The hearts I broke or cracked, then I’d
Relax into the rhythmic blast
Of crashing wind — and sleep at last.
March – Clogyrnach
“Rrroll Up the Rim to Spring”
Melting snow drips from every tree
On sidewalks shards of ice break free
At first light birds sing
Mud coats everything
Signs of spring?
Wait and see!
Rainy night greets morning when
Thermometers rise hopeful, then
A cruel flash freeze
Smothers the fresh breeze
Sorry, “Please
Play again.”
April – Bref Double
“Lemon”
Yes. I want to taste
life like a baby
tastes a lemon, cring-
ing but back for more.
When they tell her “stop,”
she still chomps and slurps,
persistently eat-
ing, mouth puckered, sore.
Licks the tabletop
searching for the sweet
somewhere past the sour;
can’t show her the door!
That’s the way to treat
life: don’t miss a drop.
May – Haiku
“Haiku for Springtime at the Farmhouse”
Midday sun
In warm water
Golden flowers grow
A steady hum
In the cherry blossoms
I’m not alone
A robin sits
On three smooth eggs
My baby cries
Green leaves emerge
On apple trees
Before the blossoms
A soft breeze
Carries the scent of lilacs
Past the manure pile
Stamped in the mud
A raccoon print
Scattered with petals
June – Cinquain
“Family reunion”
Bug bites,
Dirty laundry,
Sunburned shoulders, matching t-shirts,
Deeper relationships — brought home
From camp
July – Golden Shovel
“To the Babysitter”
after Tony Hoagland
Whatever you do
Don’t let them take advantage of you.
(You must remember
When you were a rascal like that.)
Put them to bed on time,
Read them one story, and
Make sure you turn out the light.
Be firm because if you are
Vulnerable they’ll shower you with all kinds
Of sticky presents and drench you with bucket loads of
Squealing, squirmy, muddy-kneed love.
August – Kyrielle
“Evening Walk”
Children at last tucked into bed
I step outside to clear my head
Wind rustles through the poplar tree
And thus peace settles over me
I walk along the gravel drive
Past ditches where wildflowers thrive
Breathe Queen Anne’s lace and chicory
And thus peace settles over me
Beside me is my shadow long
Above my head the warbler’s song
I watch a lingering bumblebee
And thus peace settles over me
I hear the crickets and the frogs
In nearby fields and distant bogs
They chorus on unceasingly
And thus peace settles over me
My walk is short but all I need
Back at the house I sit and read
Holding a mug of steaming tea
And thus peace settles over me
September – Interlocking Rubaiyat
“Tsundoku”
When I gaze at all my piles of books
Stacked on tables and filling nooks
Colourful covers and pages pale
I thrill to see the way it looks
From history to fairy tale
I find them at the library sale
I browse bookshops in the mall
And even buy them through the mail
They fill the shelves from wall to wall
They crowd my room and clog the hall
I suppose I’ll never read them all
I suppose I’ll never read them all.
October – Luc Bat
“The Cold That Never Ends”
The cold that never ends…
instead it only sends me in
the kitchen for a tin
of chamomile or minty tea;
around the house I see
tissues that need to be thrown out,
children too hoarse to shout,
too tired to run about and play —
in their jammies they stay,
coughing and sneezing day and night.
What a pitiful sight,
their noses pink and mighty sore,
collapsing on the floor,
whining for just one more treat now,
which I guess I’ll allow…
’cause how they look is how I feel!
November – Ovillejo
“Comfort Food”
What do you wish for when you’re scared?
Comfort and care
How do you feel in from the storm?
Snug and warm
How do you like your soup served up?
In a cup
Don’t worry that you might disrupt
Pull up a chair, follow my lead
Sooner or later we all need
Comfort and care, snug and warm, in a cup.
December – Monotetra
“A Pastime for Christmas Vacation”
When driving on a dismal night
I like to see the Christmas lights
All blue and green and sparkling white
A welcome sight, a welcome sight
These are laid with such precision
And those show clear artistic vision
But some are just a bad decision
A petition! A petition!
Yes, garish lights that droop and wink
Mixing orange and red and pink
(I wonder what the owners think)
They make me blink, they make me blink
But houses that are trimmed like this
Should not be snobbishly dismissed
They’re fun to spot and not to miss
Don’t boo and hiss, don’t boo and hiss!
Don’t give in to the temptation —
Every Christmas decoration
Makes for lively conversation
On vacation, on vacation
January – Ottava Rima
“From the Mixed-Up Files”
Miffed at her family, Claudia one day
Began to plan and save for two train fares
She knew a fancy, comfy place to stay:
Inside the Met — no one would find them there
Injustice and boredom both kept at bay
As she and Jamie (an unlikely pair)
Roamed the museum and discovered — oh!
An angel carved by Michelangelo
My favorites are “Evening Walk” and “To the Babysitter” and “Tsundoku.” I loved reading all your poetry! It makes me miss you. 🙂
My favourites are a tie between March and October’s. Also, I wanted to note that I prefer to eat my soup out of a mug too. 🙂
Margaret, my favorite of your poems was “An Evening Walk”. It touched my soul, and brought back many memories of when our children were young and my husband and I used to go for a walk once they were tucked away in bed. All of the allusions to things in nature seemed especially meaningful now in the middle of winter, where most living things are hibernating! I also really enjoyed your usage of the eight beats per measure. I appreciate some of the works of Robert Frost, and he seems to employ this method at least some of the time! It creates a beat that works well with my sense of internal rhythm. Well done! You are a very hard worker and gifted writer!
I liked “To the Babysitter” best. But really, they are all wonderful!