Holy holy.
I’ve taken a break from writing to the Poetry Jam prompts. Maybe it’s been 2 months or so. This has been conscious but also feels somewhat out of my control. I’ve been sick and noticed that all of my poetry-writing vim and vigor had dried up during the period in which I’ve needed to focus my energies on simply getting well. I also wasn’t sure how to participate without becoming overwhelmed. Everyone is so encouraging and I couldn’t keep up with commenting on other poems. I found I was pressuring myself to be more like other poets who comment so consistently and beautifully. I would read everyone’s work, but when it came to saying something on each blog, I found myself faltering.
I am struggling with my own writing, but I think the Poetry Jam can be a way to force myself to put out a poem-in-progress or even a bad poem. I need that. I get too precious and fussy instead of letting the process be process. I was really pleased with some of what came from the prompts, so it has been fruitful in that way, too.
Without much further ado, I’ll give it another go. For my own organization, I’m also starting to count the Poetry Jam posts over for 2012….
This week’s prompt, which is so great, is hot and cold. It should have been a rich one for me, but I’m just going to bite the bullet and print what I came up with. It’s a snippet, not finished, and maybe doesn’t need to go anywhere else. I’m trying so hard to let these things be and to stop fussing. Holy holy.
How Do I Move Away From the Body of Middle Age?
Hot, cold,
or warm, Luke?
At night, my feet stay cold
my toes, frozen
so I bundle myself in layers of mohair and wool,
down and cotton
I wake in another hour
to an unbearable heat from the feet
up
I can’t move away from it quickly enough
I slough the covers
peel socks, pj bottoms and nightshirt off
and pant for cooler waters
in the dry winter air
Where is my temperate zone?
twinklysparkles 