Happy Poetry Friday! Welcome, everyone! (Wondering what Poetry Friday is? Click here.)
I confess, this is a fly-by post. I’m in Des Moines, IA, presenting at an SCBWI conference this weekend, and life lately has been all about doctors’ appointments, financial stuff, chronic pain, gorgeous (but worrying) October weather, gratitude for health insurance, and too much travel. Three different states in addition to my home state this month. So…
Our Poetry Sisters challenge this month was a burning haibun. What what? Never heard of it. Also, I hate prose poems. Hatehatehate them. This was kind of a struggle. But I’ll share what I came up with.
Here’s my prose poem, based on a memory of a wonderful night on the shore of Lake Superior with my husband and kids and my sister and her family. Campfire. Stars. Vast lake. Sigh.
The darkness was complete. The vast stretch of Lake Superior rolled out in front of us, and our vacation rental waited behind us. Up a cliff by a rickety set of stairs. The moon hid in the shadows that night, but the stars exploded overhead. Wind sighed, and water gently bounced against the rocky shore. Our circle of rocks, granite, basalt, some almost as ancient as the earth itself, held the fire in its hands. First, just a few sparks. Birch bark snapping and curling in the dark. Then the crackling and whooshing of a truly caught fire—a signal to the night. We are here. Rolling orange ribbons and white-gold feathers danced upward. The kids explored and laughed, picked up sticks and leaves, always within the cone of light of the fire. We grown-ups chatted about everything, anything, who remembers? I can still see our faces glowing like lanterns, like earth-moons. We couldn’t look away from the fire. It held us there as surely as if it held our hands. As if the world was beginning right there. As if none of us knew what the new day would be like. As if we had never seen a Tuesday.
Next, the free verse poem pulled out of it. Surprisingly, this is my favorite of the three poems. (Usually, the haiku would be my favorite, I think!) The spacing/layout is all wrong here, but…whatever :>D
The New World
Lake Superior rolled up a cliff.
Moon hid in the shadows.
Stars exploded overhead.
Wind sighed against the rocky shore.
Our circle of granite,
almost as ancient as the earth,
held fire in its hands.
First,
sparks!
Birch bark snapping and
curling in the dark,
a signal to the night.
Rolling orange ribbons,
feathers in the cone of light…
our faces glowing like lanterns.
We couldn’t look away.
The fire held our hands.
The world was beginning.
We had never seen a Tuesday.
And finally, my haiku.
Please visit all the Poetry Princesses to see what they’re up to! And hopefully some of you took the challenge too :>)
Kelly
Click here to see all our previous Poetry Princesses collaborations.
Our Poetry Friday host is Ms. Mac herself! She’s always sharing such poetry goodness. Check out her Roundup! And please excuse my absence, as I’m on the road.
21 Responses
I just shelved a book today at the bookstore that was one to help one, through quotations, love the beach, even though missing it. Your word about the campfire and right by Lake Superior, sigh, makes me think of it! And, I love ” the fire held our hands”. Thanks, Laura, wishing you a nice trip!
Oh, the exquisite details of your memory…I think you found the exact right place to begin this challenge. I love “Then the crackling and whooshing of a truly caught fire—a signal to the night. We are here.” and “I can still see our faces glowing like lanterns, like earth-moons. We couldn’t look away from the fire. It held us there as surely as if it held our hands.” You’ve captured the fascination and warmth and beauty of fire, and it carries all the way through to that last haiku, which is like a cradle, holding us. Just lovely.
This is stunning, Laura. And the haiku is positively triumphant!! The heat and light of the fire really were the unifying forces pulling us through all three segments, and it feels like it happened so naturally. (I know it actually required immense wrangling…) Also, that last line of the prose poem?? LOVE.
You who hate prose poems have written a gorgeous one! I was right there with you, held also by that fire. I’m glad you included the holding in all three parts.
Ah, nice, Laura. I can picture the scene. The line “We couldn’t look away from the fire.” really struck me, as it’s true also in other, dangerous situations. A reminder.
Mary Lee, that is amazing, what you’ve done here. What a difficult form, and yet you’ve aced it! Dang. Burning haibuns make a perfect Halloween theme, too. I have a similarly themed found poem that I need to recheck for copyright issues, and your piece here reminds me to take another look at it.
Your poem also reminds me of the Eudora Welty short story “Where Is the Voice Coming From?,” which employed a very unexpected perspective.
Laura, I am so sorry to have posted a comment meant for another blog. You can remove it! I’m still getting used to WordPress. (Clearly.)
Oh — Laura these are ALL lovely. Despite your professed hatehatehate, you, once again, knocked it out of the park, you funny girl. Because for me the second poem began to really sing at the circle of granite, I LOVE that your haiku begins and centers there. Really wonderful, all three. And I NEED to visit the Great Lakes someday, CLEARLY. They always sound so magical when you write about them.
No, never heard of a Burning Haibun, but I’m seeing them this Friday all over. You poetry sisters are rockin’ it! Delicious!
Weird, I am not instantvaliantly—I am Doida!
No, never heard of a Burning Haibun, but I’m seeing them this Friday all over. You poetry sisters are rockin’ it! Delicious!
(This is me! Doida)
Laura, having now read several of these poems, I find myself beguiled. I also appreciate your articulation of the process undertaken in creating these impressive pieces of poetic creation. Three poetic forms exploring the same topic or idea. Each part complimenting the whole. We expect ashes to result from fire. These fires are offering something entirely different. Love the image of the rolling orange ribbons.…
I also had never heard of a burning Haibun (I thought it might be describing my attempt at making Asian food). But you made a wonderful one and took me to a beautiful place on a beautiful night. Thank you.
Laura, I am astounded by your hate prose writing and your ability to create such vivid thoughts about your family camping outing. You connected the camp fire through the series in such a poetic way.
1: It held us there as surely as if it held our hands.
2: held fire in its hands and The fire held our hands.
3. a circle of granite held fire in its hands
Three different ways of making the fire a striking part of your process.
Well done.
Gorgeous, Laura. I love ” curling our world — beginning.” It echoes the distant past of first flame.
Such rich and gorgeous language, Laura! Your prose poem sets the stage and then I entered further into the magic of the moment with the second poem. I love, love, love these lines:
The world was beginning.
We had never seen a Tuesday.
Do a fly-by anytime, my dear! 😀
Your memory was so lush and lyrical, the perfect fodder for your fire‑y process. I enjoyed hearing how much you disliked the challenge and then being immensely impressed by what you wrote. Wow! This is a fascinating form and I love what you’ve done with it!
I felt the cinematography of the first. And then the haiku captures the essence.
Laura, wow…I was deeply affected by Tanita’s observations about how the campfire smell is no longer safe and homely for many people, but you drew me back to the ancestral circle of light here, not sweetly but with an edge of the danger, the power, the thrall.
I got so inspired that I had to try my own burning haibun (had not dared before, though I had admired from afar) and I cheated a little by using a poem from 2017 to start. I’m not sure I got the pivots & development in, but it’s a first go. https://photos.app.goo.gl/2o8WUK4TaWgwJUhKA
Dear Laura, YOU are an astounding an ace creative talent.
Prose has never seen a more generous you-are-there treatment, richly riveting in warmth, vivid imagery & Love. It’s exquisite. The two reductions have great appeal, but going back to the first, to enjoy being immersed in it again, it soothes my soul.
Please know I’m sending travel-weary You the best “home soon” vibes. And as someone whose med. appts. frequently outpace other activities, I, too, am grateful we bought good H.I. at the behest of my foresightful hubby, when I wanted to select the lower {= cheapest} tier, way back in those early days. Wishing you Agreeable & even Magical November nights & days on your continuing spin around the EverLovin’ Light of Our Sun. XO your fan, jan
Beautifully, blazing, transporting poem Laura, you take us there! Love these lines, “Rolling orange ribbons and white-gold feathers danced upward.”
Hope you had a wonderful time at the conference, and I hope your pain moseys along, thanks!