Tag Archives: syllabic poetry

by | August 17, 2023 · 10:21 am

Should You or Should You Not Attend Your High School Reunion?

Photo is Detroit sunrise from Windsor, Canada.

My #TankaTuesday is at end of the post.

This past week I was in Michigan and Ontario (Canada). I got to see my mother, as well as some other relatives who I also saw in April. The main reason we chose last week to travel was to attend our high school reunion. Have you ever done that? This was my first one. The gardener and I went to the same high school, although he had been with those classmates for elementary and junior high, whereas I was the new girl in 10th grade.

Our reunion was put together sort of last minute by mainly one person who was helped by a few others. It was casual, held at a lakeside park. And maybe 15-20% of graduates attended. Although it would have been fun to have a big dressup party, I think this turned out best because people could move around easily–and best yet, we could hear each other talk. A dinner-dance isn’t the best place to catch up with people.

Although everyone there (except for two people who looked as if they have a nasty portrait of themselves hidden in the attic) looked older and in some cases unrecognizable, in general, I think my class has done pretty well with their appearances. It was really fun to catch up with some old friends and to talk to others I wasn’t as close to. In high school, it seems people rarely talk except to close friends.

An upside of going was that it was fun to “catch up,” and I realized I really care about the welfare of everyone I went to school with. We had a good time, and it was especially fun for the gardener to see people he went to school with for so many years. We also had a memory board with names and a memory candle so we could spend some brain and heart cells on those who are no longer with us.

A downside for me was that I didn’t know so many of the people we went to high school with. High school is not the best time to really get to know a large group of people. It’s also hard to see how old we have all become, although that is also an upside because it made me realize that these people are no longer the 17-year-olds I remember, but have had full lives with ups and downs just as I have had.

I’m not sure if this is a positive or negative, but I learned something about myself. Maybe that is really good, although it feels sad. When I was in school, I was quite shy, though not in a classic “quiet” way, but rather I found it very difficult to have poise in social situations. I didn’t have the confidence to participate in the activities I would have liked to, such as yearbook, journalism, and auditioning for plays. I would be too quiet when I should be more open to talking to others, and I would be noisy when with close friends. When I had openings or opportunities to do more, I assumed deer-in-headlights stance. Starting a new high school was very difficult for me, and add to that I had a lot of problems at home with my father during that time.

So what did I learn about myself from attending the reunion? Although I’ve gained in maturity, compassion, and confidence, I am still the same dummy in social situations. Too scared to initiate conversations, mind empty when I should have spoken, etc. Ugh. So, no, I guess people don’t really change although I thought I had.

My high school was known for being very cliquish, and we had a fair share of “mean girls” (not one of them was at the reunion). I only bring that up because my mother has her own social situation. She lives in a retirement community, in a large independent apartment building, and it too is cliquish. My mother is also an introvert (I think this gene is rampant on my maternal side). Is this what tends to happen in large social groups? Is it only the women or do men feel this, too?

On another note, I have a micro up at Scribes *MICRO* Fiction, thanks to Managing Editor Edward Ahern . It’s a surreal drabble (100 words). This link is for the whole issue, which is full of fun stories and poem. https://www.fairfieldscribes.com/issue-32.html/ My story is about 3/4 through the issue–if it were in pages it would be page 10 out of 13.

Here is how it begins:

These Days
​by Luanne Castle

​​​​I look over at the white Waymo as it pulls up next to us. The giant stuffed bear in the driver’s seat, its googly eyes stubbornly facing forward, refuses to glance at me.

For Colleen Chesebro’s weekly #TankaTuesday prompt about sunflowers, I offer this shadorma. The prompt includes a beautiful photo, but I couldn’t download it to use over here.

Garden Protection

Old-fashioned

gardens with bean plants,

corn, and squash,

tomatoes,

bloom with sunflower beauty,

cunning insect traps.

sunflowers and trees
Photo by Luca Barth on Pexels.com

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by | August 8, 2023 · 5:15 am

This Week’s #TankaTuesday

While reading poetry books is the heart of The Sealey Challenge, I do like to write reviews when I can.

Here is my review of Christine Butterworth McDermott’s new poetry collection that Harbor Review published. https://www.harbor-review.com/the-spellbook-of-fruit-and-flowers

Here are some reviews of poetry books I recently posted on Goodreads:

Margaret Duda’s I Come From Immigrants (note: book is similar in content to Elizabeth Gauffreau’s Grief Songs, since it is memoir-ish poetry paired with personal photographs)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180625112-i-come-from-immigrants

Laurie Kuntz has two recent books out, and both of them are wonderfully personal about her relationships with husband and adult son.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59748231-the-moon-over-my-mother-s-house

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/80351487-talking-me-off-the-roof

#TANKATUESDAY

Colleen Chesebro’s #TankaTuesday poetry prompt for this week is to write a syllabic poem using collective animal nouns.

Topic: Collective animal nouns

A murder of crows

brings me stones and an earring

for feeding their young.

My dearest clowder of cats

whines all day long for their food.

**

I had to look up whether to use singular or plural for the verbs. It was hard for me to determine the correct usage, but it seems that this tanka called for a singular verb.

Cute kitties below are my daughter’s kittens, but this photo is already months old! They are playing Mouse for Cats on my iPad.

REVIEW OF ROOTED AND WINGED

Richard Allen Taylor published a review of my collection Rooted and Winged in the new issue of Main Street Rag. I think it’s a pretty funny review. Posting images of the journal pages.

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by | August 1, 2023 · 5:15 am

Follow Me: #TankaTuesday

August is the month of The Sealey Challenge. Started by poet Nicole Sealey in 2017, the challenge is to read a book of poetry every day for the month of August. In the past, I have used this time to read poetry books that were sitting unread on my bookshelf. While I know I can’t read a book a day as I have other things going on, I am still going to try to read more than usual this month. Want to join me?

If you join the challenge and need an idea, I would love it if you wanted to add one of my books to your list. Here is a link to all four books. https://www.luannecastle.com/bookstore/ Additionally, if you are interested in a copy of my first collection Doll God, for this month I am offering you a copy for $5 that includes shipping if you have it delivered in the United States. If you are not in the U.S. contact me and let’s see if we can figure it out. Think of it in honor of the Barbie movie. Email me at luanne.castle which is at gmail.com.

Two of my Doll God poems have been republished this month in Verse-Virtual. You can find them here: https://www.verse-virtual.org/2023/August/castle-luanne-2023-august.html

Colleen Chesebro’s #TankaTuesday poetry prompt for this week is to use synonyms for the words flow and wave. I used runs and beckons and wrote an American cinquain.

Follow Me

The doe

in the pasture

sees me and runs away,

slips between trees, white tail, a sail,

beckons.

The turn is found in line five because while the deer runs from me, it seems as though she also beckons me to follow her with her communicative tail.

Not sure if this is a male that shed its antlers or a female

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by | May 30, 2023 · 1:14 pm

Spirit Animal: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested writing a syllabic poem about our spirit animal. She provided a quiz to find our spirit animal. I took the quiz and discovered that at this moment mine is the turtle. The website, spiritanimal.info, says that “The turtle totem symbolizes our peaceful walk on this earth. It represents the path we take as we embark on our journey through life.  In contrast to emotional or spiritual development occurring in bursts, the way of the turtle anchors our personal unfolding in a slow, more grounded series of steps and longer cycles of transformation. The turtle is associated with our physical and embodied evolution on the earthly plane. Call this spirit animal for help to be more grounded. You can also get help slowing down and pacing yourself, so you can take your next step with more confidence.” While I doubt my spirit animal is always a turtle it does fit right now. I’ve had this torn meniscus and other issues since January, and I am trying to resolve myself to stop fighting it and just proceed in the right direction, working hard at physical therapy, icing, and REST. Yes, this past week it was so bad that I actually rested, and wow, that actually helps . . . a lot. I had a good physical therapy appointment today. Fingers crossed. Moving at my turtle’s pace, in the right direction.

For this poem, I wrote a tanaga, which is a form from the Philippines. This is a 7-7-7-7 Syllabic verse, with an AABB or AAAA rhyme scheme.

###

Accepting the Turtle as My Guide

For this part of my journey

I learn to walk with this knee.

A turtle guide teaches me

to keep on without hurry.

###

Another thing that I like about a turtle is that while they are slow and seem clumsy on earth, they are quite graceful and fast in the water. With my Sun in Cancer, I was born under a water sign. And grew up in and around the lakes of Michigan.

When I was a little girl, I had a beautiful painted turtle as a pet. The turtle’s shell was at least 4″ long. I must have been about five. I took him or her outside to play a few times. She would fall into the window well and need help out. I recall my father helping me release her to live free, but I don’t remember the details. Today it is illegal to release a captive turtle into the wild. But I do remember that I felt wonderful letting that turtle go have her own wild life.

Then when I was in 4th grade, I was given two tiny turtles to live in an aquarium. I don’t remember what happened to those turtles, but I did used to love to feel their scratchy claws scrabbling at my palms when I held them. Looking back, I wonder if the idea of releasing the big turtle was sympathy for it because of it’s size or if I was too young to take proper care of it.

green and black turtle in close up shot
Photo by Andrew Patrick on Pexels.com

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by | May 23, 2023 · 5:15 am

Acrostic Prompt: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested writing an acrostic poem based on a word from a list she provided. She asked every line to be 8, 9, or 10 syllables long. I used the word ORACLE. Each line begins with a letter from that word so that if you read down instead of across you see the word oracle. I created a form of 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8 and rhymed same count lines with each other.

Voice of the Gods

On the sunwarmed rock she holds court

Ruling a man’s world with prescient words.

All listen and quake, even mighty kings

Clothed in velvet vestments and golden rings.

Love and riches–often doom–they heard,

Even took heed or to the heart.

The Oracle
The Oracle by Célestin Nanteuil is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

A couple of years ago Memoryhouse Magazine published an acrostic poem I wrote using the title of my favorite Whitman poem, “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking.” Note that my title starts the phrase and then the first letters of each line the last part, “endlessly rocking.”

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by | May 18, 2023 · 5:15 am

Synonym Prompt: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested we write a syllabic poem using synonyms for the word “work” and “play,” and to contrast the two for this week’s #TankaTuesday.

I have to admit that the synonym prompts are not my favorite. I prefer a little looser prompt, and this was even tighter by the need to contrast them. So go ahead and hate my poem, which is three Badger’s Hexastitch stanzas put together. I used that form because I LOVE the name. It’s like a cross between something a witch does as a hobby and the town that Loretta Lynn sings about in “Coal Miner’s Daughter” (Butcher’s Holler).

For work I used the word “toil,” because it reminded me of two of my favorite poems (see below). And for play I used “entertain” and “rest.”

To toil

seems poetic

like Hopkins and Shakespeare.*

Entertain sounds lazy

as if I should

do more.

The cat

does not toil much

except to wash himself

or hunt food if he must,

but entertains

us all.

I hope

that I can be

more like the cat than me

and rest when I need to,

toiling just as

needed.

Hopkins is the Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem “God’s Grandeur,” and Shakespeare is Will himself, “Song of the Witches” from MacBeth. I loved to entertain my kids when they were little with the latter.

Here are both poems and you can see where I got “toil” from.

GOD'S GRANDEUR
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

###

SONG OF THE WITCHES
by William Shakespeare

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Notes:
Macbeth: IV.i 10-19; 35-38

Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (1983)

Now if you’re still reading, here’s a sonnet that I wrote based on the Hopkins poem which was published in Last Stanza Poetry Journal by editor Jenny Kalahar. After that you can see a pic of my cutie pie Meesker.

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod*
by Luanne Castle

and I am shackled to the backlit screen,
subjected to technology’s caprice,
my feet immobile, hidden, and benumbed,
my thoughts dispelled by cumbrous messages
of discounts, password problems, and a troll,
and so I scroll my Twitter notices
and scan What’s Happening, then Google God,
procrastinating still and find, alas,
my spirit drifts away, mere haze, but then
the images of light dividing clouds 
is how we see the brightest wings and warmth  
and you appear and take me by my hand 
to share the garden, smell the sweetbush, hear
the cactus wrens, and trill for butterflies.

*Title is a line from "God's Grandeur"

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by | May 9, 2023 · 8:07 pm

Photo Prompt: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested this beautiful photo byTerri Webster Schrandt as a prompt for this week’s #TankaTuesday.

I wrote another tanka as I first tried a different form (tetractys), but couldn’t make it work for this image. Though the actual setting was the Sacramento river delta, I saw a lake. That also worked better syllable-wise.

Stubborn wildflowers,

solitary and trembling

in the springtime breeze,

cloak the melancholy lake,

blurred lights of humanity.

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by | May 3, 2023 · 6:52 am

Ekphrastic Contrapuntal Tanka String with Haiku: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested this prompt today: to write a syllabic poem using this 19th century painting as inspiration. She mentioned how it looked like the girl is on her cell phone. For a time it was hard to unsee that cell. But then, after I saw something hanging down from the “cell phone,” I realized how important our own world views are to how we see something. As I researched, I read that Hitler loved the paintings of this artist, Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller, and made his work Nazi favorites. But the artist (blessedly) never lived long enough to see the Nazis come to power or to know the name Adolf Hitler. All these different perspectives are where my poem today comes from and it is what complicates the form, creating an ekphrastic contrapuntal tanka string with haiku.

I’m sorry that the poem had to be a screenshot as I couldn’t make it stay on the screen otherwise. If you click on the poem image a couple of times you might be able to make it larger. Please let me know if you can read it or if I need to figure out something else. Any ideas would be appreciated.

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by | April 25, 2023 · 10:53 am

Nostalgia: #TankaTuesday

Colleen at Wordcraft poetry suggested this prompt today: to write a tanka using our own inspiration.

Since I just traveled to Michigan to visit my mother and other family, I used something from that trip as inspiration. When I was a baby, a friend or coworker created a caricature of my father and me. It always hung in my father’s basement workshop. I spent a lot of time with him in that workshop; therefore, I saw it often. The last few times I have gone to Michigan, I have looked at that caricature and tried to figure out how to get it home to Arizona. Now my mother is moving from her duplex into an apartment in her retirement community, so I shipped it home to myself. I kept the chipped old frame because it is part of the experience. 


In this old cartoon
Daddy diapers baby me,
the tweety bird babe,
as if time is paralyzed
by memory’s insistence.

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by | April 19, 2023 · 5:15 am

A Love Poem to My Cat and #TankaTuesday

I had a poem published today in a cool Australian lit mag. It’s called Trash to Treasure Lit, and the idea behind it is that “every writer has a piece of ‘trash’ that we can treasure.” Look through your drafts, your poems you figured you could never do right by, and if you can write something that explains why this “trash” can be a “treasure,” they might publish it. In my case, I wrote a love poem to my cat Perry, who as you may know, suffers from a couple of terminal illnesses (so far so good in case you’re wondering). I hope you can tell from this poem that Perry is the real treasure.

https://www.trashtotreasurelit.com/publishedpieces/perry-by-luanne-castle

Colleen Chesebro’s prompt for #TankaTuesday this week is in celebration of her 65th birthday. (Happy birthday, Colleen!) We were to create a poetic form using 65 syllables.

I created a form I will call the aînée, which is the French word for a female elder. I was going to use the Spanish word anciana, but I didn’t like the connotations which seemed less positive. Plus I like that I am honoring the French language which is a language that has originated a lot of syllabic poetry. 65 syllables are arranged this way: ten lines of six syllables each, followed by a line of 2 syllables, and a final line of 3 syllables.

Decades to Medicare, or We Count Slower Later On

The first we play and learn,

then anguish for ten more.

Finally on our own,

we screw it up or not.

Next years we develop

into who we will be.

In our forties we whine

that we are now so old.

Those next decades are fine

for comfort in ourselves.

Now count

more slowly.

You might recall that I have been submitting a poem every month to Visual Verse for their ekphrastic challenge. Here is my April poem: https://visualverse.org/submissions/dont-look-back-2/ They showcase each poem next to the inspirational art.

Finally, here is another review of Our Wolves. This review addresses the issue of abuse in some of the poems. https://impressionsininkblog.com/2023/04/13/review-our-wolves-by-luanne-castle-poeticbooktours/

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