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Playing at the Desk

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In December I signed up for Two Sylvias Press’s December calendar of prompts.  I’m not a writer who can do a new poem every day, but I do find lots to work with so I continue into January, at least, working with the material.  I have maybe nine poems in draft so far that might amount to something, but sometimes it’s nice to just play for a bit. 

Here’s the prompt for December 21: “A contranym is a word with two opposite meanings, like bolt, which can mean to be secured or to flee.  This prompt invites you to write a poem that includes at least 3 contranyms-you will use each word twice in your poem reflecting its two opposing meanings . . . .”

Of course one could write a large and serious poem including this device, but I just had fun:

Down, Down, Down

On a frigid fall day leaves down
from trees increase the risk of falls.
I could grab my down comforter,
curl up in the rocker, or grab my
walking stick, a heavy jacket,
stick to my outdoor plan.

On this sunny day off
I leave town for a trail,
let worries fall off my shoulders
as I think only of my footing
on a rocky downhill slope.

If you’d like to try a month of prompts like this, I believe they will be offering this again for the month of April.  I may not be done with December’s by then.

Trip, part 4

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The high speed train from Lyon to Paris went so fast it was hard to observe the landscape.  Just when something interesting appeared it was hidden as the train went into a cut.  Then the ride from the train station to the hotel was slowed by much traffic.  I avoided the bus tours in favor of walking and using the metro.

The highlight of my trip, and the reason I chose this travel package, came on my last day in Paris.  In pouring rain I found my way to the Cluny Museé du Moyen Age, which has a great collection of medieval art.  While it was worth taking time all the way through, the major piece is the room containing the “Lady and the Unicorn” tapestries.  After studying these for several years for Lost in the Greenwood it was amazing to see them “in person.”  The photographs cannot give the full effect, though small sections come closer. I sat there for quite some time looking from one panel to the next.

The tapestries are famously misnamed because every panel also includes a lion, heraldic partner to the unicorn, and many animals are represented in the background. Rabbits abound.

Here is a poem from Lost in the Greenwood which shows the role these background characters can play, in the imagination.

Accomplishments Make the Lady

(“Hearing” panel from the Lady and Unicorn tapestries)

A servant pushes bellows,
her mistress touches keys
of a polished table organ.

How long must she practice
to be called accomplished?

Lion and unicorn
carry sculpted poles,
bodies facing outward.

Their heads, ears, lean in
toward the woman musing.

The bored maid could stop
the sounding if she would;
her mind is far away.

Below a hound stares at
a young wolf.  All are in pause,

except six scattered rabbits,
twelve ears on the alert,
expecting sound in the silence.

Trip, part 3

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I was eager to visit Lyon because I had learned of its importance as a market town in the Middle Ages when I was studying the unicorn tapestries. It was good to see that monuments from its Roman history, when it was an important outpost of the empire, have also been preserved.

While the ship was docked in Lyon we also made a bus trip into Beaujolais country, visiting a winery, and enjoying samples of the wine.  The harvest of course was long past.

This was followed by a stop in the town of Beaujou.  The inhabitants paid little attention to the tour buses.  They were busy preparing for the opening of the year’s Beaujolais Nouveau.  We visited on Tuesday; the opening day was to be Thursday, which in practice meant midnight Wednesday.  People were hanging decorations across the main square.

The weather was wet. That seemed entirely right to me. It usually rained in November in the world where I grew up.

On the River (my trip, part 2)

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Viking river ships look very elegant seen from above in their ads.  Up close they seem a bit chunky.

There are a lot of ships on the Rhone river.  They often have to double park, one against another at the dock.  When the ships are the same model, this is easy, and apparently all such ships are used to having guests of one come across the other to get to shore.  Sometimes the ships don’t match and other methods are used to tie up.

I was disappointed to find that most sailing is done at night.  It turns out that this is so because to get under bridges everything on the top deck has to be folded down, so guests are not allowed up there.  I was on our deck one evening as the ship that had been beside us departed and watched the wheelhouse drop down to be almost flush with the deck.  Another fascinating part of the logistics is going through locks – there are twelve of them between Arles and Lyon.  I was able to watch the process several times in the evening or early morning.

Does my being a poet have anything to do with my interest in all these details of the journey?  I recently read a statement from a writer that good writing depends on remembering the details. One afternoon we did travel in daylight, able to see the scenery and watch for castles.

The river was high and running fast. There were clouds and some rainy days, which seems to me normal for November. It was that way where I grew up.

Visit to Arles

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The first stop on the river cruise I took this month was Arles.  Arles makes a very big deal of the time Vincent Van Gogh spent there, with placards set up around the city.  It does indeed have wonderful light, and the white stone of its monuments adds to the effect. I, however, was more interested in the Roman ruins, ancient walls and other buildings. The amphitheater is quite grand.

In the old hospital in which Van Gogh lived after his ear episode, the garden is maintained to match his paintings.  But it was November, so the appearance was a bit drab.  I took this picture because I felt like I should.

I saw the brilliance of a starry night (another of Van Gogh’s themes) from the ship, but I knew my camera would not be able to capture the effect. We were fortunate to have good weather.

Poem on line

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I came home from a wonderful trip to learn that a poem of mine is out on line.

The editors really like it – they don’t recommend reading aloud or rereading for every poem. I’m very pleased to have it published.  Here’s the link:

https://www.abandonedmine.org/crossing-texas-ellen-roberts-young

Do you think it’s a fair representation of Texas?

As for my wonderful trip, I hope to have pictures soon.

Playing

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With words, with the acrostic form, about something you can play with at the desk.

But I’ve been getting into old storage, and there are too many.

Oversupply

Pins that make no holes
Abundant in every file and folder
Part of a writer’s detritus.
Each once necessary for
Responsible sorting, but now
Cupboards and drawers are full, as are
Long unopened boxes.
I discard the few rusty ones,
Pile the rest in loose piles.
Save me! I’m drowning in paperclips!

Thinking about dreams

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Are elevator dreams limited to people in academic disciplines who go to conferences in big hotels? Do they have a particular meaning? This poem reflects on one such dream.

At the Annual Conference

I dream of elevators
in a large hotel. A wish
to be lifted up?  One is
too crowded, the next
stops at floor nineteen,
my room on seventeen.
As I realize I could
walk down two flights,
the doors close, reopen
on floor twelve, my fear
of yielding control
justified.  The next
elevator goes
through the roof,  
travels sideways,
glass walls providing
a view of the city.
Seeing that big box
from the street, I
know I’ve missed
a flight to freedom.

I hope you appreciate the tall-building shape. I’ve been tinkering with this poem for a couple of years, but still haven’t figured out what I wanted to fly away from. That is probably another poem.

Poems online

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It’s a rare thing for me to send out a batch of poems and have them all accepted. The Raven’s Perch has done just that and I’m thrilled.

You can find one of four here: https://theravensperch.com/displaced-by-ellen-roberts-young/ It’s one of several recent efforts to address the condition of our one precious earth.

Page forward to find the others: “Linear Thinking” came from a Two Sylvias prompt to focus on something from the past. “After Lives” was part of my healing after my husband died. “Unpacking the Groceries” is more complex, following a wandering mind, centering on family.

Have a look. I hope you enjoy them.

Poem in Present Tense

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Like many poets who write because they can’t not write, I started in my youth writing poems of my feelings or ideas and was very literal, using I when I meant myself and the past tense when I was writing of what had been.  Having no poetry courses, it took me a long while to grasp that the person of the poem is not necessarily the writer, and the time of the poem is what fits the poem, not some external reality.  This poem, another from the old workshop files, is one where a major part of revision was putting that second realization into the service of the story:

Desire

When Billy Joel sings
“You may be
right, I may be crazy,”
I sing along,
off key longing,
not for him.

I ache for
the caged creature
mooning
under the mask
that shapes my
good behavior.

Come on, I say,
crash my party,
leave a great hole
I can walk through,
to go riding,
if I want to,
in the rain.

The mask does not tear.

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