This is a beautiful poem, Ann. I really like how some of the words and phrases you use sound and connect with one another. For example:
"scorched forests
morphing"
I like the way this sounds and the imagery created.
Also, I like the image you have created with your poem and the "natural treasures gleaned" from your walks. I like the colours in the image and coincidently, the golden shade to them made me think of your poem title "Or" and if the title is read in French means Gold. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Neil. I love that "or" also means gold. Cicada wings are distinctly golden!! The way they shimmer in the light . . . 💛 Thanks so much for your kind reading and sharing.
Beautiful poem, Ann. I like how you described the word "or" as connective tissue. I also appreciated the way you described a shift in your writing, "approach each poem like a conversation with a friend: curious, patient, ready to be surprised," and that you write "not to be perfect, but to pay attention, to connect, to discover what I didn't know I knew."
Thank you, James. Growing up, I was taught that "or" meant choosing—this or that, yes or no. But spending so much time observing microseasons has taught me differently. In nature, things are rarely one thing or another. Endless combinations! I feel like your writing is always gesturing toward the unfolding mysteries all around us.
Thank you, Mark. I had read that Nicole Sealey was told that she should try not to use the word "and" in a poem, because it was unnecessary. So she made an entire poem of "and" words. I thought it would be fun to try a similar poem with "or".
Thank you, Katharine. I think both poetry and nature observation help us dwell in ambiguity-- the "and" as well as the "or". Sort of like the way the microseasons refuse neat boundaries, overlapping and blending into each other. So we can relax and play with the words, too.
A lovely poem. I am inspired by what you created after reading Nicole Sealey’s poem. I connected with these words of yours in the paragraph “Those April mornings reminded me why I write in the first place-“.
Thank you, Tim. When I wrote this, I was thinking about how poets build on each other's work, how influence itself is never singular but multi-layered & contradictory. It really is a conversation unfolding.
What a cool poem -- or should I write, "I adore your words?"
I think for me, there isn't a particular class I can think of that really moved me in that way. For me, it has been more about "eureka moments" sometimes coming in the most unexpected classes and lessons. A brief mention of a little thing has sometimes felt like a great ray of sunlight shooting through a small hole in the fabric of information, to put it poetically. Sometimes it has been the most random stuff that has ended up evoking something in me and changed me forever.
I collect those moments like treasures. They seem to make all the difference for me.
Ann, your wonderful poem captures the intricacies of this forest ecosystem so beautifully! And it also felt like traveling through deep time. I just watched the recording of this workshop yesterday. Wow, I love what you did with this prompt so so much!
I'm so glad you enjoyed this, Conny. I have you to thank for recommending Marjorie's classes. Your opinion carries much weight with me! It's fun to know that we're both enjoying this offering, even though we live on different continents :-)
Ann, this was all kinds of amazing. The poem itself was enough to feel the playful sustenance of the words, but the afterword left me glowing.
"Those April mornings reminded me why I write in the first place—not to be perfect, but to pay attention, to connect, to discover what I didn't know I knew until the words themselves showed me. To fall in love with the sound of words" -- you have captured here what I would have struggled to convey in words but feel deep within. This is why we write. I would even go beyond that, for me, to extend to the texture of the sentence itself once the sound of the words have become known.
I'm feeling a sense of renewal today. A sense of finding creativity again and letting it bud, and reading this piece just now has left me with a beautiful glow. Thank you.
Nathan, that sense of renewal is exactly what I always hope to offer. It’s such a beautiful thing when we make these marks on a page that can light a spark in someone else. We get to keep that cycle of creativity humming and pouring through us all.
Your writing has done the same for me this morning. And now I’m heading off to my day job feeling happy to pour myself into that, as well. I think creative expression brings an aliveness that people are craving right now. We are in danger of being atrophied by fear--especially in the times we are in. I feel lucky to have an outlet--to keep making things that feel good and human and alive.
Couldn't agree more. It's the one thing that brings me hope, that creativity and art will drive the world out of its darkness that it seems all too hell-bent on currently.
Wonderful observant word-artistry in your poem, Ann. And I love your use of "or" as a connector, a builder. Which of course it is (this, or this, or this, look at all the choices!), but it gets used so often to divide instead.
Hi Ann, When I read your comment today I wondered why I don't get your poems anymore because I am sure I used to. Well no mind, I will resubscribe today. I enjoyed all the sights and sounds you packed in there. I like the idea of communing with other poets and writers and think that I will be more involved one day. I also like the idea of prompts, especially in a group setting to see the incredible variety and creativity that can come from the "same" source.
I am relatively new to the creative writing scene and still learning how to manage and live with this flow of creativity. Having fallen in love with carpentry, my wife and raising our sons, I knew that bringing this creative thing into my life was going to be demanding in an irregular way at irregular hours not convenient to waking early and doing hard physical work all day. And so I held it off for 40 years and now, retired, uncapped and unfettered, it has swept over my life like I knew it would. It's like riding a herd of wildebeest and nobody's running that show. It's basically wonderful. I look forward to seeing your stuff again. Wes
This is a beautiful poem, Ann. I really like how some of the words and phrases you use sound and connect with one another. For example:
"scorched forests
morphing"
I like the way this sounds and the imagery created.
Also, I like the image you have created with your poem and the "natural treasures gleaned" from your walks. I like the colours in the image and coincidently, the golden shade to them made me think of your poem title "Or" and if the title is read in French means Gold. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Neil. I love that "or" also means gold. Cicada wings are distinctly golden!! The way they shimmer in the light . . . 💛 Thanks so much for your kind reading and sharing.
What delightful soundplay, wordplay, Ann. Like Neil, I thought of the French ‘or’ as well. It’s a poem that drips golden honey.
Oh what a lovely image! Wow! That warms my heart. 💛
Beautiful poem, Ann. I like how you described the word "or" as connective tissue. I also appreciated the way you described a shift in your writing, "approach each poem like a conversation with a friend: curious, patient, ready to be surprised," and that you write "not to be perfect, but to pay attention, to connect, to discover what I didn't know I knew."
Thank you, James. Growing up, I was taught that "or" meant choosing—this or that, yes or no. But spending so much time observing microseasons has taught me differently. In nature, things are rarely one thing or another. Endless combinations! I feel like your writing is always gesturing toward the unfolding mysteries all around us.
A beautiful poem, indeed. Love the sounds in this one.
Thank you, MK. It was really fun to test out different combinations and see what my ear and tongue wanted to play with :-)
Really fun (and unexpectedly thought-provoking) poem, Anna. Love the "or" threading throughout the whole thing.
Thank you, Mark. I had read that Nicole Sealey was told that she should try not to use the word "and" in a poem, because it was unnecessary. So she made an entire poem of "and" words. I thought it would be fun to try a similar poem with "or".
Love the all of it.
Especially what you said about the teachings.
Bearing witness 🌱💚💚
Thank you, Katharine. I think both poetry and nature observation help us dwell in ambiguity-- the "and" as well as the "or". Sort of like the way the microseasons refuse neat boundaries, overlapping and blending into each other. So we can relax and play with the words, too.
A lovely poem. I am inspired by what you created after reading Nicole Sealey’s poem. I connected with these words of yours in the paragraph “Those April mornings reminded me why I write in the first place-“.
Thank you, Tim. When I wrote this, I was thinking about how poets build on each other's work, how influence itself is never singular but multi-layered & contradictory. It really is a conversation unfolding.
Lovely, Ann. So happy to see your poems here. ❤️
It delights me to no end that you read 'em! Thank you, XP ❤️
getting to the core, has me wanting more - wondorful!
yor glorious words r euphoric! :-)
Amazing poem. A revelation of delight at every turn!
What a cool poem -- or should I write, "I adore your words?"
I think for me, there isn't a particular class I can think of that really moved me in that way. For me, it has been more about "eureka moments" sometimes coming in the most unexpected classes and lessons. A brief mention of a little thing has sometimes felt like a great ray of sunlight shooting through a small hole in the fabric of information, to put it poetically. Sometimes it has been the most random stuff that has ended up evoking something in me and changed me forever.
I collect those moments like treasures. They seem to make all the difference for me.
”A brief mention of a little thing has sometimes felt like a great ray of sunlight shooting through a small hole in the fabric of information…”
YES! A gift of light! Thank you, dear Hasse.💛
Yes!
Ann, your wonderful poem captures the intricacies of this forest ecosystem so beautifully! And it also felt like traveling through deep time. I just watched the recording of this workshop yesterday. Wow, I love what you did with this prompt so so much!
I'm so glad you enjoyed this, Conny. I have you to thank for recommending Marjorie's classes. Your opinion carries much weight with me! It's fun to know that we're both enjoying this offering, even though we live on different continents :-)
The music of these lines--your poem sings, Ann ✨
Oh thank you for listening, dear Kortney. I love the learning and experimenting.
Wow. Wow wow.
Ann, this was all kinds of amazing. The poem itself was enough to feel the playful sustenance of the words, but the afterword left me glowing.
"Those April mornings reminded me why I write in the first place—not to be perfect, but to pay attention, to connect, to discover what I didn't know I knew until the words themselves showed me. To fall in love with the sound of words" -- you have captured here what I would have struggled to convey in words but feel deep within. This is why we write. I would even go beyond that, for me, to extend to the texture of the sentence itself once the sound of the words have become known.
I'm feeling a sense of renewal today. A sense of finding creativity again and letting it bud, and reading this piece just now has left me with a beautiful glow. Thank you.
Nathan, that sense of renewal is exactly what I always hope to offer. It’s such a beautiful thing when we make these marks on a page that can light a spark in someone else. We get to keep that cycle of creativity humming and pouring through us all.
Your writing has done the same for me this morning. And now I’m heading off to my day job feeling happy to pour myself into that, as well. I think creative expression brings an aliveness that people are craving right now. We are in danger of being atrophied by fear--especially in the times we are in. I feel lucky to have an outlet--to keep making things that feel good and human and alive.
And now my heart is even warmer. 🙏🤗
Couldn't agree more. It's the one thing that brings me hope, that creativity and art will drive the world out of its darkness that it seems all too hell-bent on currently.
Wonderful observant word-artistry in your poem, Ann. And I love your use of "or" as a connector, a builder. Which of course it is (this, or this, or this, look at all the choices!), but it gets used so often to divide instead.
Elizabeth, thank you for taking such care to let me know how it rests with you, and to hear the possibility for connection. Much love to you.
Hi Ann, When I read your comment today I wondered why I don't get your poems anymore because I am sure I used to. Well no mind, I will resubscribe today. I enjoyed all the sights and sounds you packed in there. I like the idea of communing with other poets and writers and think that I will be more involved one day. I also like the idea of prompts, especially in a group setting to see the incredible variety and creativity that can come from the "same" source.
I am relatively new to the creative writing scene and still learning how to manage and live with this flow of creativity. Having fallen in love with carpentry, my wife and raising our sons, I knew that bringing this creative thing into my life was going to be demanding in an irregular way at irregular hours not convenient to waking early and doing hard physical work all day. And so I held it off for 40 years and now, retired, uncapped and unfettered, it has swept over my life like I knew it would. It's like riding a herd of wildebeest and nobody's running that show. It's basically wonderful. I look forward to seeing your stuff again. Wes
"It's like riding a herd of wildebeest and nobody's running that show."
Wes, what a JOY! I'm glad you've been swept away by the long-held tide.
Thank you Ann.🫎🐂🦌 (couldn't find wildebeest)