The Marathon journey is in its third year. Put Pen to Paper is the current incarnation.
Poetry Marathon continued its trend of multi-day writing this week – I worked on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, September 4-6. I’ve had a lot going on with the holiday weekend, yard work (no more poison ivy problems, and believe me, I am paying attention to any vine I see), and a couple of art projects, including trying out some new raku clay. Anyway, I write as it fits in.
On September 4, I was at home, with a couple of companions. My cat:
And how about this young groundhog, who came right up to the sliding glass door. These pictures are not the best, as he startled very easily, but I got a couple of him as he looked around the offerings near the house (he’s in the middle of the image in each picture):
Anyway, on this day, I worked on Little Vines.
Next day, September 5, I did some writing in no particular classification, and I began to work on some Snippets. Now, Snippets have not been on the menu for a while, but I got the idea to try a few. As you know, they take time, and you need to be in a calm mood to push around the little words and phrases that are cut from paper. I worked at home, because I need the surroundings to be calm, too – a swish of a breeze from a passerby and all the snippets become food for the vacuum cleaner.
On September 6, more snippets. I’ll show you in photos a run-through of the process I use.
QUICK EXPLANATION – SNIPPET CONSTRUCTION
First, gather up old books. Tear some pages from each one. Gather backgrounds for the snippets (here I’m using ATC-sized cards that I have painted). Get some scissors and glue. Choose a piece of cardboard or matboard or whatever to use as a work surface.
Cut phrases, sentences, or individual words from the book pages. This session I seemed to be more attracted to words, but other times it’s been phrases. Also, usually I perform this step before the Snippets session – cutting out the words beforehand saves time when you want to get to work.
Lay them out on the work surface. If any seem to go together, arrange them, but otherwise just set them into view.
Start to arrange them into Snippets. My rule is 3-4 lines, maximum. I have done longer collage poems but for Snippets, the idea is to stay short.
As you start to come up with lines, look for words in your inventory on the work surface or return to your pages for inspiration. Sometimes I get out other books for more pages, too.
When you have something you like, glue it down. Keep arranging and moving words around until you are tired of working. At this point I usually sweep all the words into a pile, so that the next session can start fresh and I am not bound by the constructions I made in this session that did not gel.
Sometimes I create a card or two with lines that I like but that did not get into a Snippet, or else I did a speed word-clean-up at the end of the session and created sentences or phrases from whatever I happened to pick up. I might use these in future Snippets or in some other way.
And there we have it. Here are some examples of my work this week.
This one just came out of my head. Thinking about crime novelists, I guess. And when they are not writing but instead going through everyday life like the rest of us.
Reviews of his work
almost always use the word
and they say
the gut-wrenching conclusion
of this gripping and original
on the edge of your seat
with every page of this thrilling
pulse-pounding non-stop gory
and this is the same fellow
who tells me today’s dinner
– a pleasantly-spiced chili
I made from my mother’s recipe
that she used to feed to us kids
when we were young –
I can’t swallow a bite
It’s just too intense for me.
Can you believe it?
Snippets. Here are a couple of favorites from the session.
in an unsteady voice
The man long alone
struggling through Small words.
and always too late
discredit quite a few stories
but your pale blue eyes stop me.
go ahead, push her
but of course there is no guarantee
the stairs will know what is expected of them
choose any word
stress any syllable
the secrets spill out
I saw it straying over to you
I jerked on its leash.
Even though I am forced to explain it
I try not to remember
what it feels like
lie flat in the cracks
of the broken window
the origami horror storybook
the ogre in black tie and tails
though I knew the answer already
the ground is frozen
and the bees are asleep
run along clock
but I think I will end my journey here
a few tears
as I combed out the snarls
in my illusions
dormant for years
the idea of happiness
an out-of-practice smile
peel the mistake
away from the hands that made it
like removing an ill-fitting glove
pried an identity
from the bottom of the stack
shook out the wrinkles and tried it on
the whispering in the kitchen.
the crying in the bedroom.
I wish I hadn’t made up that story.
Thank you for reading!