Birth of a Poem


Photo Credit: Thanks to Dewang Gupta @dewang for making this photo available freely on Unsplash 🎁

The prompt for today challenged me to write a poem that recounts a creation myth and so, I thought I’d let you all in on the secret world of creating poems.

You see, each poem has a unique life form. You might think that I create poems, but actually more often than not, they create themselves, the words falling in to place with rhythm and order and beauty.

Writing poetry is an act of passion—writer and poem must come together in love and single-mindedness. I imagine if there were a mystical story of the creation of a poem, it might go something like this.

in the beginning: the birth of a poem

crisp cadence of sound bytes
dancing across the page;
marginal moments light
momentous mysteries
marching on.

letters swirls like atoms
forming ionic bonds.
how i cannot fathom
those molecular fronds
marching on.

yet unknown, the story
tumbles out in stages;
rolling rhymes unfolding,
memories outrageous
marching on.

ideas shift and shape,
pulling without tether
yet binding all the same
bringing us together
marching on.

the joyous pain birthing
small words that time sustains;
rejecting or rejoicing
the simple small refrain
marching on.

—a draft by Carla Jeanne Picklo Jordan

What is your passion? What keeps you marching on?

NaPoWriMo 2016 Day Twenty-One

The prompt today was to write a poem in the voice of minor character from a fairy tale or myth. Instead of writing from the point of view of Cinderella, I could write from the point of view of the mouse who got turned into a coachman. Instead of writing from the point of view of Orpheus or Eurydice, I could write from the point of view of one of the shades in Hades who watched Eurydice leave and then come back.

I chose to write from the perspective of a star at creation…

a star is born

in the beginning lived only chaos, tumbling
over and through the great void of darkness falling
toward divine disorder. a call rang out awakening
the light; a call of hope and grace slowly sliding-
each into her place. sky beings gathered;
dust bunnies, hushed in anticipation, beginning
the great dance of joy. i saw the first spark glowing,
a tiny ember of ordered cosmos swirling
headlong to defeat the chaos.

what could I do but join in the dance of the sky gods?
boldly i twirled toward chaos, anarchy scattering.

i wondered at the great mysterious changing
of the universe.
i wondered at the divine disorder coursing
headlong through night skies.
i wondered at the sky ablaze with sparks changing
embers to starlight.
i wondered at the power of this grace sculpting
cosmos from chaos.

(Illustration credit: Click here)