Living Poetry congratulates Ada Limón on being named the next Poet Laureate of the United States so this week let’s write a poem for her. Check out her website and Wikipedia page and what may be her most famous poem How to Triumph Like a Girl . You could then write an ekphrastic poem inspired by that or any of her poems or you could write an epistle poem in the form of a letter to her or maybe just a straight-forward poem about her.
But don’t forget to post it in the comments below.
who is sylvia
what is she
we know
she is not ada
the poet laureate
we know
that should be me
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Very interesting. I like how you brought Sylvia into it. Thanks for sharing!
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A nod to Shakespeare, the consummate poet laureate
“Who is Sylvia” from Two Gentlemen of Verona.
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Very cool. I assumed Sylvia was Sylvia Plath. Thanks for informing me!
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Thanks for the reference to Shakespeare’s poem, revisited because of your interesting post. Notable about this phrase in the poem is that “Love” is personified as a male entity, that has is helped by seeing through her, Sylvia’s, eyes. The male and female power structure on display. Or to be more forgiving, the interplay of male and female archetypes…all of this so valuable to poetry, so thanks again.
‘…Love doth to her eyes repair,
To help him of his blindness;
And, being helped, inhabits there…
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Vision 07 19 2022
Because it was before
each iteration till ground innately
sweat forth to provide scenic eruption
of tree admiring since Nature nourishes
after one births from that darkness
shell erupting sprout to infantile discovery
a determined colt rests cradle bough
suckle sap at nap
time of one
dreaming of a future
attentive branched songbird
well-fed blirping praisodically
a green minstrel socrasticly invests
their why— leaves freely
nourished from water shed
swaying into spring
blossom beyond gentle nest
as mighty earth
through chloroform mystery theatre
rows of nursery newborns—
canoes kayaking heavenly
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Love “blirping” Great onomatopoeia!
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field court frontier stages
success is peace of mind
a teacher-coach wrote us
in nineteen twenty-four
and it became the backbone
of a pyramid
of educating— more
a bout a real
person-athlete living
one’s life beyond—
the game the score
of playing a competitive sport
the athlete wears her uniform
for practice, game, and play
that person then does perform
those other minutes of each day
the play is limited—
in time and score and process
her other day— limitless
growth-ing giving progress
both her worlds are cages
one wide open— unlocked door
it offers nearly endless stages
the second for the first
is not a metaphor
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Great metaphor! Despite your claim that it isn’t in the last stanza. Nicely done.
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BB, thank you, Will
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I probably should have the prompt more closely… Instead, I read about her and read some of her work and attempted (badly) to write in a similar style… and got this. (Maybe I need to give things more “rising time” like dough that will become a good loaf,)
The sky’s color, vivid amd harsh
hurt my eyes. The color itself was
pushing the wrong way through my eyes
looking into me than the other way around
I look down to avoid further accusations. But
the tree in front of me, surrounding me, offers
comfort to a wanderer, like me, the oak
planted in one fertile spot, unlike me
giving protection from the sky to
souls that come near to her loving arms.
How many years and how many wanderers have known
her gifts. I would dwell on this thought keeping
a count, a list, a tally
each time that I came by this place. I wanted
to shout “Hey!” to any passersby letting them
know what was freely being giving such a short distance
off the busy pedestrian walkway. Now it is
sufficient to be silent and let other keep these lists
and acknowledge that other wanderers
have also been here before, grateful for her generosity
aware that more will come long here after I’m gone
when, like this tree, I will not need to be shaded
from above, but like her, live solely on the blue light
pouring down from above, returning the kindness I had been
given to all those still in need
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This seems to be a lovely paean to shade, so appropriate in these hot days of summer. It is rewarding to follow to the universal image of living on ‘blue light’, especially since this implies that blue light is like kindness, (a poetic thought).
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There’s no requirement for how closely you follow the prompt. The important thing is that you write. Love those first couple of sentences with the color and the eyes. Well done!
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Since she wrote “A Love Letter to Trees”, this is my contribution from other girl tree-lovers:
Girls Who Own Trees
Branches wide as sleeping couches
under drapes of mossy filigree
suspended above the ground, we
came alive in dappled greenery.
A place of generation
for creatures lucent of air
destined for flesh,
as trees grow bark
For bones, trunks upright,
muscles
as rippling leaves,
windblown ribbons of hair
Born and bred, small hearts,
honed by handmade silken destiny,
in the drum-beat rhythm
of generation, slow mover,
We were small when we
came to consciousness
as offspring of oaks, free climbers,
sisters sheltered by wide canopies,
Inveigled of acorn certainty,
tree-spawned and browned,
we weighed at last enough,
to live upon the ground.
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Love that opening stanza. It’s paints a beautiful image, very southern with the Spanish moss. Well done!
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Thanks Bartholomew, glad you liked Smortzando.
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