One Delightful Thing

One Delightful Thing

NaPoWriMo, Day6 

There has to be-

The dinner – no, I forgot the mac & cheese

The soccer game – no, there were tears when time came to leave

The ice cream party – that was it! No, bowl of fun fell  face-down on the floor.

And a little boy beside himself crumpled and forlorn.

There has to be

There has to be

One delightful thing today.

Now they’re abed

It’s time for bed

Perhaps I’ll find my delight in there. 

But  delightful things have dared not ever haunt my dreams.

Perhaps it is as simple as

This sugar waffle-bowled

With Tin-roofed-sundae-scoops,

Caressed with a cool spray of sweet whip

Textured with chocolate jimmies (never sprinkles!)

And capped with a single perfect decadent red treat on top.

Perhaps it is as simple

If only it could be as simple to find

and build my delightful things

I would eat sundaes everyday, for every meal, and share them all with all and all I could.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

Mmmm... Ice Cream
"Day Two Sundae "
by artist Tilly Strauss

I do try to look at the good things. though it can be hard to see them. This is most definitely a very rough draft. The line breaks and line lengths merely represent the rhythm as I initially heard the words in my head and no more. It needs work. It is "free verse" with no rhyme or form. But if/when I go back to rewrite, I will likely try to hammer it into some kind of form, but not use a rhyme scheme. -WNG

Her Special Day

Her Special Day
NaPoWriMo, Day 5

Forgotten, again.
It was the best gift he had
ever given her.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

The "Broken Ring" monument, by Konstantin Simun, located

 near St. Petersburg, Russia. The World War II memorial marks the 

"Road of Life," an ice road across a frozen lake 

that was the only access for the city 

of Leningrad during a 29 month siege from 1941-1944. 

More than one million citizens of Leningrad died during the siege. 

This is the poem I had written the other day. Now you might be thinking, oh... that's a haiku! But it's not. It's actually called a senryu. 

But it's all cool if you thought it was a haiku. Easy mistake. Actually, when I first wrote it a couple day ago, I thought it was a haiku too. Why? Because that's how I learned what a syllable was in grade school -- writing haikus. First line five syllables, second line seven syllables, third line five. And this form fits the bill. Right? Right!

But then this happens every April...  Poetry Month rolls around, someone writes some, fun silly haikus to get in the spirit of things, then someone else writes a snobby blog post that says "Well, that's not a real haiku... Poetry Month is so stupid." Then everyone rolls their eyes and moves on. But nobody ever explains why it's not a haiku! Nobody learns anything! So lets do some learnin':

The difference, according to the official definitions of the Haiku Society of America, isn't in the form, it's in the content. You can read the full text of their definitions here, but this is what they say a Haiku is:

"...a short poem that uses imagistic language to convey the essence of an experience of nature or the season intuitively linked to the human condition."

In other words, haikus use imagery from nature and link them to the human experience. I don't have any nature imagery in my poem. Not a haiku.

And this is the definition of a Senryu:

"A senryu is a poem, structurally similar to haiku, that highlights the foibles of human nature, usually in a humorous or satiric way."

Given the content of my subject matter -- chock full of human foible, as it were -- I think we scored here. So now, I can say with full confidence, that I have written a senryu. And all those fun, lighthearted "haikus" that everyone basically pisses all over every April, most of them fall into the senryu category too. But again, it's okay if you confused it with a haiku, because again, no one is bothering to explain the very, very subtle difference.

But now that you know the difference, pass it on. We could use a little less poetry snobbery in the world.

Hortense & the Nermal Thunderwear

Hortense and the Nermal Thnderwear

(NaPoWriMo, Day 4)

There was a girl named Hortense.

She loved her nermal thunderwear,

But every day she thore wem

Mings got thixed-up everywhere.

Bocks were worn as sathing suits.

Chananas had the tang of beese.

And when Hortense tushed the floilet,

It made the snousecat heeze.

Perhaps what most ferplexed her polks

For every fatement her stamily uttered

Came out a juddled mumbled mess

Their bongues tabbled clerbal vutter.

Hother brid the clundies in his noset.

Bather furied nem thunderground.

But the dext nay there would Hortense be

In her nermal thundies, rancing ‘dound.

As wime tent on her Dom and Mad

Learned to love their plazy cright

It hade their Hortense oh so mappy

To wear nermal thundies nay and dight.

So although her scother sometimes browled

Hortense grew up with wace and grealth.

For her garents gave the greatest pift:

Nermal thundies, and a love of self.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez, 2013

Notes About the Poem:

Shel Silverstein was a master at flipping words
around in unexpected ways

• I went with silly today. I needed silly.
• My deepest apologies to Shel Silverstein. The idea was inspired by "Runny Babbit," one of my 7-year-old's favorite books. What can I say other than... I tried. When I went to the official Shel Silverstein website for the "Runny Babbit" artwork, I found that they created this PDF of cool poetry month activities for kids. And you know... there's no reason kids at heart can't do them too. They look like fun!
• First, I wrote the poem straight, then went back and started flipping the sounds around. It was not as hard to work up I expected it would be, but it was difficult in ways I didn't expect. For example, I wanted to flip the sounds for "bathing suits." But if you read "sathing buits" aloud, the "bui-" letter combination demands a "bwee-" pronunciation." Didn't work. The third stanza was re-written entirely because the third line of the stanza would not accommodate any of the word-play I tried. But that led to the "utter/clutter" rhyme combo which was much stronger than what I originally had, so it was all good. I also discovered in the course of writing that the word-play was easier if you stuck to using the nouns and adjectives. 
• I tried to be consistent with the "rule" I set forth for the word flips. It probably needs more work. But this was fun just to play with the language and see what new words would come out.

Universal

Universal

Adapted from a quote attributed to astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson

(NaPoWriMo Day 3... a little early) 

“...the very molecules that make your body,

the atoms that construct the molecules,

 are traceable to the crucibles

that were once the centers of high mass stars

that exploded their chemically rich guts into the galaxy,

enriching pristine gas clouds with the chemistry of life.

“...we are all connected  biologically,

to the earth chemically

and  to the rest of the universe atomically.

That’s kinda cool!

That makes me smile

I actually feel quite large at the end of that.

 “It’s not that we are better than the universe,

We are part of the universe.

We are in the universe

and the universe is in us.”

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

Neil deGrasse Tyson, the bad-assiest science
god on Earth

• Posted early because I have a busy day tomorrow.
• This is my first-ever attempt at a "Found Poem." For those of you wondering what the hell that is, a Found Poem, takes words and prose from other sources and turns them into a poem. 
• I needed something inspirational and I've always loved this quote from the world's most bad-ass astrophysicist. The language at the beginning ..."molecules...  traceable to the crucibles... centers of high mass stars... [exploding] their chemically rich guts into the galaxy" paints such a gorgeous picture! It was practically begging for a Found Poem work-up. My only regret is that I couldn't confirm with 100% certainty that he was the source of the quote. I can not find a cited source material. But most reputable sources attribute it to NdGT. Still, I'd love to know in what book he wrote it, in what lecture he said it or in what AMA Reddit he blurbed it specifically so I can confirm its authenticity. I prefer accuracy.
• But in the meantime, as an exercise in Found-Poetry-Making, I kept most of the quote intact with some minor word changes ("ands," "thes" removed) to improve the line flow. The line breaks were chosen to emphasize the musicality of the language.
• "We are in the universe /and the universe is in us." It says it all, but needs the rest of the poem to give the final words their punch."
• I'm not sure if the line breaks are The Line Breaks for this poem... it probably needs more fiddling around with to get it from Dashed-Off, let's try-it-for-the-hell-of-it ready to This is Capital P Poetry ready. But it's a start. Again, if any poets with way more experience that I have constructive thoughts on how to make these better, please share comments below.

Thanks!

Ode to Spring

Ode to Spring

(NaPoWriMo, Day #2)

These days are made for getting through

These shiny smiley brightly days

These blue skies, birds fly, croci days.

Some nibbles here, a few pills there,

Blankets, shades and thermalwear.

Sleep and wake, escape and then

Pray for night and rain again.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

"The Chamber of Internal Dialogue After
The Scream by Edvard Munch"
by Seward Johnson. Taken on a beautiful spring day
at Grounds for Sculpture in Trenton NJ in 2011

Notes on the Poem:

• No, not a haiku. I do have one -- dashed off two today, but decided to go with this one because the other was too similar in theme to yesterday's poem.(Actually it's a senryu -- don't I sound all fancy throwin' these high-fallutin' poetry terms around! But more on that another time.)
• No, not ready to jump off the ledge. I was trying to capture that feeling of being surrounded by all the trappings of happiness, knowing that you're supposed to feel it too, but just can't.

That's all I got for now. More later...

The Ballad of Lois Lane

The Ballad of Lois Lane

(NaPoWriMo Day #1)

She’s taken down villains, corrupt politicians
Writer of exposés, a true journalist, driven.

She’s the best in the business, a smart chick with class,

But molded in most minds a damsel-distressed lass

No matter, she knows it’s her lot in life

To only be thought as Clark Superman’s wife.

A real fiery dame with ambitious spunk

Her downfall: one night with a blue spandexed hunk.

It’d been a rough night; a long hug’s all he gave,

But to Lois it felt like she’d finally been saved.

Then (just like a man!) he flew – Flew! – away.

In his arms warmed, chest-to-cheek she forever stayed.

But that was typical Clark, with his stupid disguise.

Of course she saw through it! But she needed his lies.

It spiced up their romance, for a while anyway.

It’s a life, when you’re young, that you think you can play.

The truth is, she didn’t need so very much helping.

Of course she could fight without crying and yelping.

Many of those rescues were really for show

A dutiful wife serving a super-ego

She simply didn’t want to hear (yet again) later

How her fixing the crisis somehow made her a traitor.

But like any Earthling, woman or man

There were a few times Lois needed a hand

She needed the man with the salvation embrace

And she pleaded with Clark to rise to his grace

But during her times of most need, he left her, alone

Until she finally realized, this is her Phantom Zone.

She’s still Mrs. Supe now, as she has been for years

The love might be gone now, but she has her career.

No matter how others see her, she pays it no worry.

She knows she’ll have the final word on her story.

With a sip and a smile, she knows her story's unfinished
Every hero has a moment when all hope seems diminished.

She’s worked her way up to Perry’s old job and his office

He took the last buy-out; though she missed him and his gruffness.

But now with his Scotch bottle and a bold vision

Lois is leading the Planet’s future multi-media mission.

Over Metropolis’ glittering skyline she surveyed her city, fulfilled,

Knowing every word she once wrote and every word that she will

Is just a letter in a moment in the life of a girl,

And that her words are her superpower, changing the world.

And no matter who she married, or whose fault is the pain

In the end, it’s her byline

Written by Lois Lane.

© 2013 Julie Bartha-Vasquez 

Margot Kidder in the original "Superman"
movies will always be Lois to me.

Notes on the poem:

• My original concept when I started my "WordNerdGirl" freelance business was "Lois Lane is the  superhero." When I was trying to think of a good first poem topic to tackle for NaPoWriMo over the weekend, this seemed like a fun subject.
• I did a little reading on what form would be best. I had a vague idea it would be a narrative and had a vague story outlined. I thought I'd be able to tell it in about 20 lines. Obviously, it took a lot longer. 
• I realized during the last 20 minutes of watching "The Walking Dead" last night (OMG!) that this would be a Ballad and what the title would be, which helped a lot. I decided on the "Heroic Couplets" just this morning because, hello... superheroes! How could I not at least try? That actually dictated the narrative of the story, and it veered into a very different direction than I originally outlined. Also cool.
• It ate up most of the day writing. And its really rough. The rhythm is way off on some of the lines. Gonna be working late tonight. Expect a nice short haiku tomorrow. Kiddos are also home on spring break. I can't lock them out of the house forever. But it was fun to write. 
• I'd love some feedback, if anyone has suggestions on how to make it work better. I'm going through some of the poems on NaPoWriMo.net's site later tonight. I can't wait to see what other people wrote.

Poetic License to Try Again

Oh my poor neglected blog. Over two years since my last post?? Wow. I knew it had been a while, but damn! Time doesn't just fly. It moves at warp speed. Like, warp factor nine -- the kind that started destroying the fabric of the time-continuum  so much that the Federation had to set a Warp Factor 9 - For Emergency Use Only Policy. Can you tell I've been getting my TNG nerd on lately?

Anyway, rather than try to catch up, recap or otherwise fill in the gap -- because really, it's been two years, who cares? -- we here at WordNerdGirl enterprises (and by we I mean me) are just going to hit the reset button and try again. Stuff happened. We'll catch up.


Right around the time I went AWOL  is when I started really working at poetry seriously, on my own. I was reading and writing fairly steadily for about 18 months. I even had one published at Every Day Poets, which was kind of cool. But since then,  I have not done any creative writing of any kind for about a year or so now.

Neil Gaiman's advice to writers, from his blog:
"Write. Finish Things. Keep Writing."

There's a little thing kicking off April 1st called NaPoWriMo -- National Poetry Writing Month. And with this allegedly being Spring and a season of renewal and Easter and blah blah blah oh hey - a metaphor! How convenient! - I decided with a little encouragement from my friend,  "fairy jobmother" and interior decorator up the NJ Turnpike, Noreen (check out her blog at Roderama) to jump in and reboot my website with a poem a day, and then take it from there.


I've never done this before. Because I'll be writing  a poem a day  in the middle of 217 other things, this will definitely be a quantity-over-quality exercise. Short form poems will rule the day. Lots of haikus. Maybe some "There once was a man from Nantuckets..." if I get stuck. But mostly, I hope to explore more than just haikus and limericks. I tend to get very serious when writing poetry. I'd like to inject more Dorothy Parker and Dr. Seuss into my verse. Or, ohh! Even better... combine them:

"Time doth flit.
Oh Shit"
 the Lorax said.
over green ham and eggs
before Grinching to bed.

 Oh yeah... that needs work.

So, I'm not promising good poetry. Or eloquent poetry. But it will be daily poetry. And hopefully, fun. At least for me. The upside for you, Dear Reader, is that if it's really bad, you're always just one click away from a screaming goat video.