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Thread: Ask Us About Our Ninja Disguise

  1. #91
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    April 18 Prompt - After the mud dries

    April 18 Prompt - After the mud dries

    * * * * *

    Old Man

    There’s a mighty tree at the head
    of your grave. It’s the same place she sat
    and grew roots when the water ran
    from her face to feet, and flooded
    the cemetery with an armful of aching.

    She didn’t finalize your death
    with a tombstone. After the mud dried
    she patted an acorn into a hole. Then swept
    up a handful of the dust, and died trying
    to blow life into it.

    * * * * *

    Inheritence

    For Mother's Day, she takes me to a spa
    for the full treatment - manicure, pedicure,
    massage, facial. I'm accustomed
    to pampering, not being the pamperee,
    but Tyler insists. I tell her to stop
    making me laugh, to wait until after the mud dries
    so it doesn't crack my face. She giggles
    just like she did when she was five
    and I'd tell her to stop wriggling
    while I struggled to plait her hair

    into french braids. My guinea pig
    for all things girlie.
    She managed to survive,
    she laughs, and runs a brush through her hair,
    recites the list of names they've picked
    if it's a girl or a boy while the attendant
    paints her toenails. Perhaps she'll take after
    her grandmother and make mud pies
    in your kitchen
    , giving away my preference.
    You'll be so much better, my daughter,
    at passing on the feminine mysteries
    that this tomboy had to learn on the job.

  2. #92
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    "Old Man" and "Inheritance" couldn't be more different, yet both are supremely effective at the use of the prompt, and in the execution of their chosen themes.

    At the center of both, though, despite opposing approaches, is a sense of the connections of life and family, and the love that comes along with those connections.

    BrianIs AtYou
    I think I think, therefore I might be.

  3. #93
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    HI!

    After the mud dries


    I love Old Man. S1 was vivid emotive and drew me in. I love the image of water washing downward, the use of the word face, and the way roots are grown could be tree roots, or vegetable roots. I guess I just insert the vague images of vegetable roots beneath the tree, it does seem fitting for the feminine image. And I think it also comes from the word armful, like and armful of harvest is spilled. The flooded tree is a beautiful image. S2 is intricate, leaving me wondering why the tree wanted, or thought she could, blow life into the dust.

    Inheritance starts a bit slow in the first four lines. Maybe it's the pace, maybe I'm a tomgirl! I like the intimate story very much, the last two lines do wonders to color and light up the rest of the poem. I was surprised to find the daughter pregnant in S1, like' quick Claire, add a baby bump to your visualized filmreel.' But of course, this explains the theme of S1.

    April is a long month

  4. #94
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    April 19 Prompt - It's not spring until I see (the) ____________ (in) bloom

    Thanks, Brian and Claire. I'd comment more, it's driving me crazy that I can't make more than perfunctory replies, but I'd give too much away if I did. Just know that yours (and everyone's) comments are much appreciated.

    * * * * *

    April 19 Prompt - It's not spring until I see (the) ____________ (in) bloom

    * * * * *

    Exercise On Land

    We walk here. We start early
    March while the park still sleeps. Lost deer
    trails extend passed ghosted ends
    into a hiker’s footpath. We tramp around
    the fingers of Lenape, toe-heel, toe-heel
    toe-heel until we reach the campsites.

    It’s not spring here
    until I see the tents bloom
    like reservations, and a ceiling of smoke
    weep through fresh leaves, signaling
    the distance we still have to trek
    to get there. But we won’t stay long.

    We will walk here through fall
    until the last tent is packed
    and the last bass is scaled, and they will leave
    knowing they will come back, as we do.
    They won’t know how much we will miss their
    presence, as we always see things more visibly
    before the smoke clears.

    * * * * *

    Reading the Signs

    The calendar says spring begins
    with the equal night in March
    and Home Depot says it
    with trays full of primroses and pansies
    rolled out before the 31st,
    but with snow still likely
    to be hanging around like a party crasher,
    it's not spring until I see the dogwood
    and wild rhododendrons bloom
    along the highway. Their white
    and pink are the welcome line
    of demarcation between seasons
    that I wait for, the signal
    that I can plant my tomatoes,
    cukes, beans and marigolds
    without fear they'll be nipped.
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  5. #95
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    Hi Donna,

    Super idea!

    Of the earlier ones, I'm a big fan of 'Wild Harvest', with its carefully managed central metaphor. I also like the two contrasting responses to come out of 'What I was saying with that last kiss' - actually, in general, seeing the two poems alongside each other adds a real extra dimension to the reading experience. It's a little bit Jekyll and Hyde sometimes.

    "until I see the tents bloom" - clever stuff! Dodging a cliche and creating a really nice image at the same time. I like that you/Melanie bring the smoke back in as a metaphor in the last line too. Also snow as a party crasher - yep, that about nails it!

  6. #96
    Sorella is offline Fun and felicitous PFFA patron
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    Donna and Melanie,
    Again such amazingly different takes on People younger than me.

    Love a pile-up poem where you can't be sure what it all leads to:

    like my next door neighbor
    ......whose heart gave out,
    my friend's son
    ......who drove himself into a tree,
    the new mother whose picture
    ......has peeled off the collection can
    ......at the diner,
    famous people I've only read about
    ......online or in People,
    their not so famous children
    ......and some who were more so
    ......who overdosed alone,
    doctors,
    football players,
    CEO's,
    names I recognize,
    names I don't,
    people born years after me


    -- interesting ending after all this.

    and what starts as any tender baby poem, turns out to be about a little brother, then punches you.

    why do you insist on dying first?
    I don’t want to live without you,
    but I don’t know how to die.


    So much to like in this thread, a unique dual pespective.

    Sorella

  7. #97
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    Jon and Sorella - Thank you so much for some much needed fluff. Trust me, we're as surprised as anyone when we see what the other came up with. Sometimes scary-surprised. Heh.

    Donner
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  8. #98
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    April 20 Prompt - smoke and webs

    April 20 Prompt - smoke and webs

    * * * * *

    Fumiphobia

    There are so many things to fear.
    540 of them have Latin names (I counted)
    from Ablutophobia to Zoophobia
    and everything (Panaphobia,
    I looked it up) in between.
    The High Roller and the SkyWalk
    aren't on my must-do list;
    I'll view Vegas and the Grand Canyon
    safely grounded.
    I cannot touch a spider.
    I toss National Geographics
    when they feature arachnid covergirls.
    Those lidless eyes.
    Those fangs. The Fly.
    I'll never hook up with cigarettes.
    I'd watch Dad sit down for another smoke
    and webs of white vapor would trail across the room like spider silk, clinging to the couch, the drapes, my clothes, my hair, my dolls, down the hall and under the door to where Mom would cough and cough until I feared she'd die.
    I'd recite the warnings from memory: “Tobacco seriously damages health.” “Smoking causes lung cancer." "Smoking is addictive." "Smoking kills." "Smoking causes heart disease." "Smoking when pregnant harms your baby." "Your smoking can harm others.”
    as he'd light up again.
    A rational fear isn't a phobia;
    it doesn't need a warning label.
    I tell my husband
    he isn't allowed
    to smoke in the house.

    * * * * *

    Loneliness

    Dandelion, you are young,
    yellow haired, and beautiful,
    and will spend a lifetime
    trying not to be
    noticed by gardeners
    and mowers. Or children
    making chains.

    You watch the sky
    and wish to be out
    of reach, weightless
    as smoke and webs
    lifted and swept
    by the wind.
    And someday a child
    can make that happen.

  9. #99
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    Greetings fellow ninjas,

    Though this may seem like my first visit to your thread, my ninja skills mean that I am not easily detected til I choose to be.

    What a great idea for a thread! I've enjoyed reading what it's produced. Interesting to see how the same prompt sometimes produces very different themes, and sometimes similar ones.

    Though I've no idea who you are Melanie (anonymity is especially useful for a ninja) my money's on you for Description in #1, Donner's poems just tend to look more like Small Town Transit does on the page (how's that for a sweeping generalisation). I liked the former's dark tone, loved the menace of "The boy has a knife that can slice / Through a body into a mattress spring."

    O.k. that's the only time I guess. Everyone knows Ninjas are masters of disguise

    After his retirement made me smile: "
    Now my days are fried potatoes, / a belch of beer, and a loud tv.". Also enjoyed What I was saying with that last kiss especially "I thought of you over the dishes this morning / and suddenly missed you / like a girlfriend, not a wife."

    Enjoyed the confessional Glory Days, and I liked the mirroring of squirrel and peeper in Freedoms, and N's attitude --at first I thought she was going to spray the peeper with that hose.

    Way out there and You're the one I should have met 30 years ago both tell tales of men who don't live up to their promises, and both tell their tales well. Enjoyed them both.

    Purse snatchers (Donner's? yes, I know, I said I wasn't gonna guess) I enjoyed this, the way the woman becomes increasing obsessive as the poem progresses.

    Dam burst was short and sweet, at least on first reading. Second time around, a little worrying -- who is this man giving orders. I do like the God of second chances that's presented here.

    Old Man, I like the widow growing roots in the cemetery, and there's something affecting about the fact that she dies trying to get the oak tree to grow, perhaps because she dies not knowing that it does grow tall. "and flooded / the cemetery with an armful of aching." was a very nice line.

    Loneliness was lovely -- an ode to dandelions (has someone been reading Janet's thread? ). Loved the opening:

    Dandelion, you are young,

    yellow haired, and beautiful,
    and will spend a lifetime
    trying not to be
    noticed by gardeners
    and mowers.

    Fumiphobia: Can I add the fear of fluffing this thread when it's already 40 poems in?

    Two thirds of the way through! We've nearly got this thing licked. I'll be popping by unobserved in true ninja style to read the rest.

    -Matt

  10. #100
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    Matt - Thank you so much! How do you find the time, to not just skim, but to give so many of our threads such careful attention? (And, just FYI, my ninja powers include being able to see what everyone at PFFA is doing at any given moment. Mwhahahahaha!)

    Donner
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  11. #101
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    April 21 Prompt - I did everything backwards

    April 21 Prompt - I did everything backwards

    * * * * *

    We Did Everything Backward

    We had sex before saying
    I love you, and got pregnant
    before wedding vows.
    We acted old when we were
    young, and like teenagers
    in our midlife. I’d like to start
    all over, but there’s no
    turning back now.

    * * * * *

    Moving Forward

    You're supposed to crawl before you walk, I'd shake my head, watching my determined one
    cruise the couch. She came out breech-backwards, why was I surprised? Marram always read the last chapter
    first. She wanted to know if the puppy found its way home or the caterpillar ever got enough to eat
    or if Alexander's day ever got any better. If not, she couldn't be bothered. It's the ending that matters,
    she'd tell me. She liked that her name was mirror-imaged so she could write it back to front or front to back
    and still be correct, liked that we named her after beach grass that anchored the sand in place. That's backwards,
    she'd grin, and herd fine loose grains off our picnic blanket back toward the captivity of the dunes. Marram insisted
    I tend the backyard before the front because I see the back, not the front, from my window. As rearward-looking
    in love as with everything else, she wouldn't follow protocol. You're supposed to wait for the boy
    to open negotiations.
    I hold her head on my lap, catching her tears with my jeans. I did everything backwards, too,
    lovely one, it will be okay, I had you, after all. It's the ending that matters.
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  12. #102
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    April 22 Prompt - because it's true

    April 22 Prompt - because it's true

    * * * * *

    Synonyms *

    As a result of knowing you
    for as long as I have and,
    as these things usually go
    but haven't yet with you,
    and by virtue of, considering
    you've hung around
    all these years due to the reason
    that I can't even fathom,
    for the sake of my sanity
    and heart in as much as
    you've proved over and over
    in the interest of chivalry
    and, in view of and on the grounds
    that I've never known you to lie,
    owing to seeing this through;
    whereas I can't think of
    any other plausible explanation
    that you'd tell me
    you love me other than
    because it's true.



    * Because - it's a found poem.

    * * * * *

    Definition: Truth

    The quality of being genuine,
    actual, or factual? No.
    Truth is a color,
    red as a flag, poison in the woods. Fire.
    It is a game
    of dare and deceit, hide and seek. Trivia.
    It is a growth
    that invades the crevices of your brain,
    the hollows of your heart. Cancer.
    It is rumors,
    kind things about those we love,
    venom toward our enemies. We decide
    what fact we will pass to others
    because we want to believe it,
    not because it’s true.
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  13. #103
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    These last two work well together, I love the way the second subverts the first. I enjoyed the light tone of the first and the huge runaway sentence, and the all the semi-formal "in view of" "by virtue of" and "on the grounds of". Nicely done. Then along comes the cynical second poem and takes the first's legs out from under it. "truth is a colour" was a stand-out line for me, also liked truth as "a growth that invades the crevices of your brain" and as "a game / a dare and deceit". Wonderful stuff, and it would work well as a response to Rachael/Featherless recent "Belief and Knowledge" poem. Nietzsche would prefer this one I think.

    In continuance of my not guessing policy, I'm convinced that Donner wrote the first given that she recently confessed a liking for run-on sentences. I'm also starting to form a theory that in any given pairing, Melanie will have written the darker one, Donner the lighter. I do hope there'll be a reveal at the end.

    -Matt

  14. #104
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    Quote Originally Posted by GreaterMandalaofUselessness View Post
    In continuance of my not guessing policy, I'm convinced that Donner wrote the first given that she recently confessed a liking for run-on sentences. I'm also starting to form a theory that in any given pairing, Melanie will have written the darker one, Donner the lighter. I do hope there'll be a reveal at the end.
    Hey! Hey! I can be dark! Really dark!

    Really. I can.

    And yes, we'll fess up at the end.
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  15. #105
    Sorella is offline Fun and felicitous PFFA patron
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    I love the latest ("because it's true") to bits -- so different, so female.

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