.NaPoWriMo 2015 Day 7.

Day 7 of NaPoWriMo is upon us. Today’s prompts are ones that I’ve actually been pondering for some time. The prompts are poetry’s value and love from NaPoWriMo and Writer’s Digest, respectively.

I’ve thought about writing and my love for it and whether the love is or will ever be reciprocated in the way of publication or maybe even getting some pay for sharing it. These thoughts have stopped me from submission  and conversely, with a thrust, put  me into a submission frenzy. In between the rejection letters and the lapses in writing due to them, I have found myself, somehow, still loving poetry. Still pining for the next inspiration. Sometimes she treats me bad. Sometimes I treat her bad. Other times we just stay away from each other, but it’s always love.

How much do you value your poetry? Does it have any worth to you?  Be frank. Does your poetry do absolutely nothing for the reader? Is it your personal catharsis? Does it speak and not teach? Is it the total opposite?

I’ve been a little of all the above and have vacillated. How about you?

mouth in this marriage
of speech & spit,
born word,
flickering between the defeated
& the devout making this
erraticism of constancy,


as stable as heartbeats go
the asphyxia between planets
from here to there is where
the poem meets paper
in that same vacuum, a piece
is left behind

diminished value
even in the deep space the poem
enforces my breathing & gives
me proof of life

“a poem, like
trying to remember, is a movement
of the whole body”*

my whole being moves towards you.
move (towards) me, my love.

*Rosemarie Waldrop from “The Ambition of Ghosts: I. Remembering into Sleep,” Another Language: Selected Poems

As I mentioned yesterday, I decided that I would start showcasing writers that have had a significant influence on me in life and writing plus those that I have just recently come across. My first is Richard Wright. Although he is mainly known for his novels, essays, and short stories, he took to writing haiku in his last 18 months of life and a collection of them were compiled, some of which I will share below. His haiku transcended his earlier work but still had the element of how his race and experiences informed his life, only set to nature. Out of over 4,000 haiku, he compiled 817 of his favorites into a book. Here is just a handful of some of my favorites:



Coming from the woods,
A bull has a lilac sprig
Dangling from a horn.


From the skyscraper,
All the bustling streets converge
Towards a spring sea.


Holding too much rain,
The tulip stoops and spills it,
Then straightens again.


The sudden thunder
Startles the magnolias
To a deeper white.


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