Category: Wax Poetic

Write a small story that describes the parts of an object or characteristics and memories of a person, in order to tell a story or reach a conclusion about a certain character, just as the fading parts of this rose imply a history of aging and weather without words—by showing, not telling. The House on Mango Street, Esperanza vicariously describes her family by describing her house.

Example:

 

Red Tennis Shoes

 

Every month, my mother tells me to throw out my red tennis shoes. 

They’re about two sizes too small (left over from tenth grade, because tenth grade was the best year, this liminal space where you weren’t the school baby and you didn’t have to worry about WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO DO FOR THE NEXT FOUR YEARS because God knows that’s too much responsibility, and all you need to worry about is whether you’ll get an A or a B, or whether you look better with a red or pink lip.)

One shoe’s lacings have been torn into frayed ribbons (because of my brother’s dog who mistook my shoes for his red ball, and I would say that it was stupid except for the fact that he often couldn’t recognize one thing from another, like my handwriting from my mom’s or fun from fulfilling, and yet you know she still loved both of them for their eyes)

They’re still covered in dirt stains (from the time we went camping in the Appalachians and I saw trees burst into photosynthetic flame for the first time, and the image of a ring of massive trees blossoming into red around a stagnant lake is still so sharp)

Every night I go to the trash to throw them out, I turning back to the house in the distance with its laughing yellow light, dangling their relieved weight from my hands.

 

-Constance

 

Or an ordinary gardener

and her dog named Theo?

My dog is clever.

Not only does he enjoy

poking his nose in the warm

soil as I was plant seedlings,

he is also quite resourceful..

 

Write a poem inspired by your pet. Begin with one singularly detailed sentence. Break your sentence into lines to create a single stanza poem.

/ People who say that fish have no personalities / have never held a fish in their hands / while changing the fishtank water, / feeling the small body flail in such choked / desperation that you suddenly understand / what it means to touch a scream. /

 

Example:

My Fish

People who say that fish have no personalities

have never held a fish in their hands

while changing the fishtank water,

feeling the small body flail in such choked

desperation that you suddenly understand

what it means to touch a scream.

 

Now, write another. Pets make great fodder for writing. Consider writing a poem after . 

-Kim & Constance

Here's another idea: click back to our Pinterest, the Write it… board. Scroll down to the boy flying through the air on the shimmering fish and put on your Poet's Cap.

Imagine that the bony on the flying fish of shimmering shades of orange takes you to a staircase pond of giant carp?

What then? 

Think humorous.

Be humorous.

Take your somewhere imaginative.

Think pun. For example, let’s say that you were to write about the following pun: “I don't trust these stairs because they're always up to something.” What might those stairs be up to? Does it have something to do with the upper floor, or could it be something unrelated?

Sky's the limit when you travel by flying fish.

 

Example:

I Don’t Trust These Stairs

 

I don’t trust these stairs; they’re always up to something.

Apart from fooling around with the well-groomed

second floor, they make a point of tripping me

at least once every day in front of someone I admire,

or stretching themselves to seem higher and longer

during those days when climbing them feels like

scaling the frosty length of Everest: and, in particular,

they seem to find undying pleasure in the task

of making me think that there are more of them,

just when I think that I’ve finished counting the number

of flat heads and sharp shoulders on each flight.

 

 

-Constance

Join the fun on our Pinterest and Write it!

It’s April—National Month of Poetry— let this  be your muse. Write a poem inspired by something that is homemade. The object in question need not be a DIY art project—you could write about homemade food, homemade clothing, homemade furniture. In the abstract, think about what habits are homemade, and which homemade ideas have influenced you significantly.

 

Mother’s Sandwiches

 

They were

Always greasy,

Sticky with lumps of butter,

Subject to lunch-hour teasing, but

They were home.

  

Take inspiration from , which centers on the juxtaposition between the traditional and modern state of China, especially Shanghai. What would it be like if everyone had to visibly drag some part of the past with them, in such enormous amounts? What would you drag with you? What would that part of your past look like? Would you proud or ashamed of it? Would you try to cover it up as you dragged it around?

 

Example:

Red Balloons

 

There is a man

who walks around

the city park

every weekend,

carrying a red

balloon. I’ve heard

people say that

he used to sell

balloons in the

park with his

wife, who always

used to wear

a large apron

that was bright red.

No one knows

what happened

exactly, but eventually

people started to

notice that the man

comes to the park by

himself now,

and sometimes

when he comes early,

the only sound

except for the chattering

of some sparrows

is the quiet squeak

of the red plastic as

he runs his hands over it.

 

-Constance

 

Write a story inspired by this  by Max. Be sure to include a constant undercurrent of apprehension in your tone.

For example, in “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson, a subtle mood of apprehension and suspense is built when Jackson withholds key details about the lottery from the audience. In “A Game of Chess” from “The Waste Land” by T. S. Eliot, Eliot creates an apprehensive and anxious tone through diction and sound. You can also draw inspiration from musical devices– in Florence + The Machine’s “Breath of Life,” a musical sense of apprehension is built through a prolonged build-up, increasing volume and tempo, and long extensions of notes in a minor key. How might you translate such devices into a simple lyric form such as haiku?

 

Example:

hungry

 

tiny white sailboat

below it, a whale’s black shadow

mouth already open

 

-Constance

And be sure to visit our Pinterest, Write it… board for more inspiration. 

 

Write about an unexpected sliver of nature found in the city. Find inspiration in the dandelion between sidewalk cracks, the butterflies in South Central L.A., rain in the parched corners of downtown.

 

Example:

butterfly in the subway

 

did no one notice how you wandered in,

like that one person at a party

who came late and doesn’t know anyone,

and after tipping his hat at the birthday boy

bobs his fluorescently orange way out?

 

-Constance

 

In her book Walk Two Moons, Sharon Creech repeatedly uses the phrase “trying to catch fish in the air” to mean trying to achieve the impossible, when disillusionment is a much more likely situation. And as a writer with an idea, she doesn't just leave us there, no. Sharon Creech takes this concept of "trying to catch fish in the air" and gives it the form of a picture book (her first) in collaboration with the wonderful art of Chris Raschka. Inside the pages of Fishing in the Air, the world of imagination becomes a place where the similes and metaphors of memory are the storytellers of the mind's eye.  

Now let's write.

Visit our Pinterest Write it board and scroll through until you find a boy flying through the air on a shimmering orange fish. Start imaging. Where is the boy on the fish headed? What might his "fish in the air be"? What impossibility is he trying to make possible? Now, choose one of your personal "fish in the air" and describe it in a poem or vignette. What would happen if you actually caught one of those "fish in the air and rode" it where you pleased? Write about what would happen if you caught your singular fish in the air? What would happen if you caught five of your fish in the air? What kind of day would that be like?

 

Example:

Daydreaming

 

I usually think of it when I’m in line

usually somewhere in the steaming depths

 

of an amusement park in the summer,

somewhere in the crush of bodies slippery

 

with sweat and sunscreen. Or I think

of it somewhere in the musty belly

 

of the library basement, when I look up

from radio static of black words

 

on pallid page, into the one dim bulb

flickering like a sleepy eyelid.

 

When it’s been ten hours driving down

a straight road, and the car’s air

 

is a soup brought to a slow boil,

I shift in my place between the luggage

 

and the door, stare out the window

at particularly inviting cloud,

 

climb its towering pillar as my feet

make deep imprints in its soft stairs,

 

and perch on the very tip, where birds

pass each other with a faint rustle of wings.  

 

 

-Constance