Showing posts with label Serial Deconstruction poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Serial Deconstruction poems. Show all posts

Friday, April 7, 2023

What's a Serial Deconstruction Poem?

Howdy, Campers and Happy Poetry Friday! 

I am feeling particularly happy today. I've been dealing with a stupid health issue and have been in pain for quite a while. But guess what? 

NO PAIN last night! No pain today! 

And: it's SUNNY again in So Cal! Not rainy, not wildly windy. 

So: No pain, a sun-shiny day, two poems in a new anthology, and Poetry Friday...what more could a girl ask for?

At the end of this post is the Poetry Friday link, info about my summer class, and my poems from Pomelo Books' newest anthology, What is a Family?

Our topic this round is "Offer our readers a writing exercise or prompt." 

Like many friends in the Poetry Friday family, I write a poem a day. Surely I'm not alone when I say that sometimes my brain stands up, puts on its coat says, "Nope. No ideas. I'm outta here."

So the other day when my brain walked out of the room, I took these two phrases from a friend’s email:

·        1) delicate balance

·         2) I wanted to stab my hand with a fork

an   ...and began playing with them. I sliced the second sentence into pieces with which to start new lines:

======================== 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted to slice watermelon but you wanted

to stab a steak or maybe spear a pimento olive.

My hand hesitated. I offered you a fig, which you ate

with a fork.

 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted it to stop. I wanted

to stab the newspaper, rip it to shreds, or swipe right with

my hand. After, I went to the ocean and made circles in the sand

with a fork.

 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted to find the pulse of a poem. I wanted

to stab this page with surprise.

My hand wants that, too. But it’s distracted by that guy

with a fork.

 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted stars, stars, and stars

to stab this night. I wanted to lift

my hand to them, conducting their murmurs

with a fork.

 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted you to speak,

to stab that diaphanous curtain.

My hand goes to my lips. You are, you are! I listen

with a fork halfway to my mouth.

 

DELICATE BALANCE

I wanted to call this exercise How

to Stab a Sentence to Death. But

My hand disagreed. Hands are very opinionated, especially hands

with a fork.

poems © 2022 April Halprin Wayland

===============

It was a so much fun! I asked my husband what I should call this form. He was eating at the time. He said, "Serial Deconstruction. Or," he said, looking down at his granola, "you could call it Cereal Deconstruction."

Ha!

I like presenting these poems in groups. Try it. Let me know how it goes!

=============
Many of you know Pomelo Books ~ I call them the publisher with the 💗big heart💗. At its helm are Sylvia Vardell and Janet S. Wong, the proud parents of their newest book, WHAT IS A FAMILY? born on March 31st. 

The 40 ekphrastic poems in this book—inspired by a wide variety of diverse and inclusive black-and-white photos—explore extended families, blended families, classmates and sports teams as families, animal families, and family occasions such as birthdays, holidays, weddings, funerals, and much more.

As with the companion book WHAT IS A FRIEND? and also their books in the "THINGS WE" series (THINGS WE DO; THINGS WE EAT; THINGS WE FEEL; THINGS WE WEAR), 100% of the profits will be donated by this truly big-hearted publisher to the IBBY Children in Crisis Fund (IBBY.org). (Worth joining; I'm a member.)

Here are my ekphrastic poems from WHAT IS A FAMILY?:

CLASSROOM


PUPPIES!

And once again I'll be teaching a one day, three-hour class called ​​Intro to Writing Children's Poetry for the Big-Hearted, Brave,and Curious​! (my title, not necessarily UCLA's). It's on Wednesday, July 12th from noon-3pm PST. The course won't be visible until April 10th; Summer enrollment opens April 24th. 

Tah-dum! I started writing this happy, and I'm ending it happy that 

Margaret is hosting Poetry Friday!

Poetry Friday logo by Linda Mitchell

Reminder: I'd love to hear about your own Serial Deconstruction poems! 

I keep bubbling, I know, but one more thing to leave you with. I've been listening to Leonard Bernstein conduct his playful Overture to Candide. It lifts me. Maybe it will lift you, too.

Posted with love by April Halprin Wayland 
with help from Kitty, seen here on my desk, helping me work 
(she's another thing that makes me happy):