Blogging U 201 – Poetry Haiku Screens

I stupidly decided last minute to join the Daily Post’s Blogging U 201 Poetry course at the last minute this weekend.  Why? Partly because I loved the course in March or February when I did the last one, and I had plans to do it before Write 31 Days challenge came around. I had actually hoped that it would be a little later in the year, but well. Oh well.

Today’s assignment is Haiku, Screen, and Alliteration.   I could not stand doing a regular haiku so I went with an American Sentence. It’s still technically a haiku if you shift things.  And the Japanese never wrote their haikus with the three lines. It was always one line.  So There. 🙂

The theme ‘screen’ was meant more for a computer screen, but I am dealing with women this month so I kind of want to keep as much of the theme as possible. So as we as women always wear a screen, a veil across our lives, this fits.   I got carried away and wrote a bunch of American sentences…. So while it’s technically a bunch of individual poems, it could also be read as one.

As for alliteration, well the poetry explains itself.

She wears a screen of screams, stunning in its silence of serenity

Shield the veil of modesty and call forth delicate beauty and grace.

A sheer veil across my visage hides emotions and thoughts from your face.

My mind, my body, my heart, hidden from the world of criticism.

She dips her head demurely and a delicate thought hides from you.

Conceal my core, my concrete heart from the coldness in this common world.

A screen, shade, shutter, of shame skates across her hidden face of silence.

Clearly there is a theme of shame. Not exactly sure why I ended up that way, but well, sometimes a screen makes me think of shame.  For some reason I can never go with modesty. Go figure.

Kate

My Gal Poets – Day No. 5

Emily Dickinson Poems Book Cover

Emily Dickinson Poems Book Cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Emily Dickinson is my girl. My poet. My inspiration. She says all those wonderful things I’m thinking of in only a few lines. She is probably the first poet I fell in love with. I’m not evne sure when she first came on the scene with me, but her words have stuck over the years. “Wild nights, wild nights…..”

Years ago, my then boyfriend gave me a selection of her poems, in this delicate white and rose colored book. Satin ribbon, and his writing inside of my name. To this day, it is one of my cherished possessions. While he and I parted ways, I loved the gift and when I’m in a romantic, sad, or poetic mood, her’s is the first book I pull out. I recently found a paperback of her entire collection of works. Whoa! I did not know she had written that much. I don’t have the time to read her often, but when I do, I want to start reading it to anyone who will listen. Sadly, very people do. ( I actually feel this way about a lot of poetry, and my family just doesn’t quite get my fascination.)

e-millay-end-of-summer

Edna St. Vincent Millay’s The End of Summer

I love male poets. Sir Walter Scott (dreamy), Billy Collins (stunning), Shelley (ethereal), John Keats (moving), Tennyson (powerful)…. I could go on as there are many others.  However, there is something about what women poets write that always gets to me. (excluding Billy Collins who’s poetry hits me like a cannon blast and I have yet to recover from some of his) Edna St. Vincent Millay is a new old poet who is rather amazing when you start reading her work. I’m seriously jealous of her sonnets partly because I cannot write a decent sonnet.   And her poem “The End of Summer” is so perfect for this time of year.

Emily Bronte is another beautiful poet. And she’s another Emily. I love my Emilys. (Emily Dickinson, Emilie Loring, Emily Bronte) Unlike the other Bronte sisters, Emily wrote a fair amount of poetry that is unique only to her. Elegant and classic, I pull out her little blue book of poetry I have when I want to feel intellectual. I rarely do, reading her. Half the time I’m not sure what exactly she is talking about, but she is lovely.

Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Christina Rossetti is another classic poet.  I have one of her little ditties on my wall from an old Country Living magazine where they were talking about blue and white. “White sheep, white sheep, On a blue hill, When the wind stops, You all stand still.”  So cute in it’s own way. It would be one I would teach a child to say.  Then she has her marvelous poem “In the Bleak Midwinter” which has been turned into an ethereal song by Sarah McLachlan. I absolutely adore that song. It’s message is so perfect for Christmas and about our Lord.  If you haven’t heard it, you must. Just click below.

And lastly, Susan Wooldridge. Someone whom I’ve written about, met, and read extensively. Being that she only has three books, it’s fairly easy to do. But she has a poetry that is unique; modern in feeling. I feel like a friend is telling me things.  Her chapbook “Bathing with Ants” is so lovely and reminds me of getting a call from a friend who wanted to let you know what they thought. I female version of Billy Collins.  I can’t explain it, but you should check out her poetry and books on writing poetry.

Ah yes, woman poets and their words. Magical, and personal. I feel like a part of me is escaping when I read something of theirs. Like they are telling me what I already know, but didn’t know how to say it. And as I read more poetry, I want to collect more women poets.  I feel like they are speaking my life.

So, dearies, do you have any women poets you love?  Tell me. I’m always collecting new poets.

Kate