First order of business:
You'll notice that this prompt has a slightly different format. I'm posting this as a question. This means that all of your responses can be 'upvoted' by other users. At the end of the week, the response with the most votes will be featured on The Poetry Cove Instagram. So whether you respond to the prompt or not, be sure to upvote the poem(s) you like. Remember: here at The Poetry Cove, we lift each other up.
Now, onto prompt 3: The Weird Prompt
I have a confession to make: I attend a weekly workshop (via Zoom, of course) and each session, we're given a prompt for us to work with for the following week. So far, I've been using these prompts as inspiration for The Poetry Cove prompts. And this week's, well, I definitely couldn't resist using this prompt.
Read ...shift at the oars by Stacy Szymaszek
I know what you're thinking: It's a strange poem, right? No disrespect to Stacy, of course, I'm sure she'd think my poems are strange. But it is odd and try as I might, I can't actually find a meaning. Even with extremely complex poems, there's usually a line that speaks to me. But this just looks like a string of words.
After a brief google, I found this review of Stacy's book 'Emptied of All Ships' which does provide an interesting perspective of this poem:
From the title of the poem “shift at oars” we imagine a boat being rowed in the “reservoir” of a great lake, and its potential energy. A sequence emerges that is impervious to changes of time, space, and—insofar as possible—shifts in technology. You can’t deconstruct a Szymaszek poem. —Bill Sylvester, Ecopoetics (taken from https://www.stacyszymaszek.org/emptied-of-all-ships )
So, what's the prompt? Well, as always, you can do whatever you want. If you're particularly adventurous, perhaps you could try to write your own poem in Stacy's unique style, writing one or two word lines, perhaps even pushing the boundary the links between those words.
On the other hand, you might be more inspired by a particular word or even the title.
Personally, I'm writing about the first (and only) time I went canoeing.
Just a reminder to not be intimidated by such a complex poem. Remember: there's no right or wrong way to respond to a prompt.
Can't wait to see what you guys come up with :)
Canoeing
I’m on a school trip,
dressed head to toe in red waterproofs,
canoeing for the first time.
My friends are pirates
sailing through unchartered waters,
searching for treasure.
I’m happy being ten in a canoe
on a lake I’ve never been to.
But we are children
having the time of our lives.
As we head towards shore,
the canoe tips us into the water.
The cold sinks into my veins
Underwater, time feels strange and I’m twenty seven.
Gravity is faulty, the Earth spins off her axis,
galaxies shrink to the size of seashells.
In this tiny lake, tiny whales swim with me,
I hear their songs, more beautiful than angels’.
Pieces of sea glass float into my hands, lost parts of myself
now smooth after seventeen years
in this lake. My lungs inflate until I rise and rise.
I break the surface and I’m cold
but I can’t stop smiling. I’m still ten years old,
on a school trip, in a forgettable lake.
My teacher is still in the canoe, laughing.