One Inch Tall

Quantum Poetry

oneinchtall — Wed, 16 May 2012 19:39:16 +0000

I never thought that I would use the words quantum and poetry in the same sentence. Then Joseph Harker (darn you!) introduced me to the mind-numbing, brain-boggling world of Quantum Poetry. I’m certain that I’ve only dipped my pinky toe into those deep, deep waters. Basically, two poems are paired together in alternating lines to create one poem. Joseph explains at length some of the techniques and nuances that make this form both challenging and exquisite. Here’s my “pinky toe” poem.

Snow Globe

There is beauty in the glass,
You have to hold it with both hands
Frozen inside amniotic time
Turned upside down, shaking
A still life preserved in all dimensions,
Every bit of white snow dislodged
Like a child draped in pristine silence
Violently whirling inside the sphere.

Tidewater

oneinchtall — Wed, 16 May 2012 15:51:05 +0000

I wrote this for the “Coming Home” prompt at Poetic Bloomings. I don’t think it’s possible to grow up in a place that is bordered by the Atlantic Ocean and the Chesapeake Bay and not have a little salt water in your veins. I remember spending hours collecting shells and holding them to my ear to hear the echoes of the sea. Now that I’m landlocked in Texas, I am in love with the idea of holding echoes of home inside me. Gah, I miss the ocean.

Tidewater

I am a seashell
Chipped and worn
By sandy feet
Along my shore

I curl inward
To capture fading
Ocean sounds
Inside hollow spaces

But there is more
Within my curves
Than watery echoes
And bay gull cries

Hold me up
To your ear
And I will whisper
What the waves say

Stories of strange
Currents running
From east to west
And farther still

Dreams of Hands
That carry me
Inside a warm
Bosom pocket

To be awakened
By low-tide mornings
And the promise
Of new songs

Wednesday Poetry

oneinchtall — Wed, 16 May 2012 14:04:42 +0000

Today’s prompt at Poetic Asides is to write a poem about dessert. Yum-o!

Dessert

I scrape my teeth
Against the fork
To spite you
Tine by tine

The bite of metal
Clinks softly
Like tongues
Against honey

Do
not
look
away

Spine Poetry

oneinchtall — Mon, 14 May 2012 16:06:28 +0000

Summer school began today, so I didn’t have the brainpowerenergytime to spend the morning poeming away like I wanted to. Thanks to Margo Roby and Rhymes With Tao, I can ~~cheat~~ produce something rather quickly. It’s called Spine or Bookshelf Poetry. According to Margo, it’s perfect for those days “when your brain is on strike.” That would be today. Basically, you grab books from the shelf and arrange the titles into a poem. It was really fun and anyone can do it. Here’s my effort:

Speak secrets and lies
To the lighthouse.
The dark is rising untamed
To know her by name.

Note: The second and fifth books belong to the hubs. I do not read about the riveting world of digital security in my spare time.

Wednesday Poetry

oneinchtall — Wed, 09 May 2012 19:14:04 +0000

It’s about time I threw down a few Game of Thrones inspired words! You can breathe now, because I know you were holding it in. Today’s prompt at Poetic Asides is to take the title of a book, change it up a bit, and then go from there.

You can read Ned Stark in this, if you want. He’s there in the “ice” and “winter” which are nods to his sword and my favorite line in the series, “Winter is coming.” But it’s more than just him. It’s about loss, bittersweet memories, and the coldness of time. And, of course, charm bracelets.

Game of Bones

He was cherished
With a painful warmth,
The kind that comes
Only after touching
The ice too long.

Now his words dangle
Like tinkered charms
On the arm of winter,
Forgotten like the
Memory of spring.

I Am No Man

oneinchtall — Tue, 08 May 2012 20:04:11 +0000

I wrote this one for the prompt at Poetic Bloomings. I was supposed to use a movie title, but I’m terrible at following directions so I chose a line from a movie instead. Of course, it had to be LOTR. One of my favorite moments from ROTK is Éowyn’s showdown with the Witch-King when she says, “I am no man! Ahhhhhhh!!!!!”

You can’t leave out that shriek. You gotta have the shriek. But as good as that is, Tolkien’s original words are even better: “But no living man am I! You look upon a woman.” Éowyn is a badass. Cue the Arsenio Hall fist pumps!

I Am No Man

I am blood,
And you are dust.
Together we paint epic
Stories inside cave walls.

Primitive strokes speak
Of panoramic conquests
And contradictions
From days gone long
Before the blood has dried.

The concept of painting on cavewalls came from a poem I wrote last month. I eliminated the stanza in a recent edit so I decided to rework it here. Not to be gross, but the subject of blood (literal and metaphorical) has always intruiged me. Not only is it both life and pain, it is also distinctly feminine. The image of blood mixed with dust to make paint evokes a visceral creativity that I connect with. I hope you connect with it, too.

Sijo: Korean Form

oneinchtall — Mon, 07 May 2012 23:13:34 +0000

I’ve been told that poetic forms are important because you need to know the rules before you can break them. Still, I’ve never felt confident about writing form poetry. Maybe it’s my inexperience. Maybe it’s my stubborn rebellion. Probably both.

Joseph Harker wrote a great post about a Korean form called the sijo. I tried this about a year ago, and I’m ready to try again. After all, it was created by my people so I should be at a genetic advantage, right? The inspiration comes from childhood memories of crabbing in the Chesapeake Bay.

I greet the lonely blue crab in the shallows of the bay.
His nibbles speak an invitation to a watery dance
That ends with clasping bows before the encore kiss of blades.

Wednesday Poetry

oneinchtall — Wed, 02 May 2012 15:42:06 +0000

Today’s prompt is to write about a vacuum. My first thoughts are of the mouth, holding and expelling air. And because I’m studying for a Linguistics exam, I had to throw some of that nonsense in there, too.

The Linguist

Air pools in my mouth, drawn in by the gravity
Of seconds stretched inward. I hold centripetal
Words between my lips like voiceless stops
Aspirated in complimentary distribution.
I savor the taste of your syntax
Against my hard palate.

April Poem-A-Day: Day 30

oneinchtall — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 23:51:01 +0000

Today’s prompt is to write about fading away. I took my inspiration from Maya Angelou’s poem, “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.” I’m obsessed with that poem right, just so you know.

Reflections

The caged bird sings
On either side of lock and key,
Songs of faded days layered
Like stained glass echoes
Calling to itself inside
The looking glass.

April Poem-A-Day: Day 29

oneinchtall — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 23:00:51 +0000

Grayscale

There is something beautiful about gray.
It is in the storm clouds and tin roofs,
Battleships and full moons.

It is the space where heathered words
Meet on the battlefield of mistakes,
Regrets, and second chances.

It leaves its mark on our temples
And every black thing that has
Ever been left too long in the sun.