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Poetry Prompts

Monday Poetry Prompt: Remember


While I know this blog has a worldwide audience, I wanted to alert the Americans that we just named the next Poet Laureate of the United States, Joy Harjo.

This week, let’s take her poem Remember as the prompt. Maybe make your own list of things to remember. Or things to forget. But don’t forget to post your poem in the comments below.

by Joy Harjo

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Copyright ©1983 by Joy Harjo from She Had Some Horses by Joy Harjo.


About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.


11 thoughts on “Monday Poetry Prompt: Remember

  1. The womb, warm and safe
    Remembering the membranes which would hold me under
    Casting no doubts for the sanctity of home
    Until a new memory took place
    Slapped and crying, brought into the cool air
    Darkness seeking, ever since, I believe
    Remembering the pain to come forth
    Safety at risk
    Placed in a cold pan with just a little cloth
    What’s that feel like to you?
    That’s what I thought
    I remember my mother saying I sure was ugly
    Before my face rearranged
    And she counted my fingers and toes
    And now
    I look in the mirror
    And remember her

    Ironically, I only read the first couple of lines of the poem presented and came up with this. Isn’t that something?

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 24, 2019, 3:58 PM

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