I’m always late, so the fact that this is being posted late probably should come as no surprise to you.  I’ll let John Clellon Holmes speak for me: “It needs work, it needs help, but I have made more than just a valiant failure.”  Take anything I write, and this is true.  Especially here.  I had ideas for this poem, but due to lack of time, energy, and not feeling particularly well, this is the best I can come up with without taking another week.  Without further ado–

Word: Friction
Question: Who invited you?

I think?  Anyway, I’ll be hosting it this month.  I know several of my readers do not participate in it, not being the poetically-inclined types–or, perhaps, not the poetically-writing-inclined types.  However, it is my first time hosting Word and Question.  Do consider joining us.  You don’t have to like poetry!  You just have to like me!  Well, like me enough to be willing to give it a shot.  It’d make me veeeeeeeery happy.

Head on over here to read more about it and how it works. Enbrethiliel, the mind behind this wonderful creation, has a nice writeup explaining Word & Question for everyone.

Basically, you send me a random word and a random question [that are appropriate; I'll trash anything inappropriate and substitute them for something ridiculous and make sure you get them] by 6 May. I will then jumble them all up and give you a word and a question to write a poem around. I’m notorious for being late, though, so I’ll probably accept prompts through about 8pm on the 7th (that’s Saturday).

Anyway, join in! It’s fun, and nobody will write anything mean about your poem. We’ll only write nice things. If someone writes something mean, I’ll write a poem making fun of them. See? I’m offering to defend your honor. You’ve nothing to lose. Join! We love new players. And you’d make me happy.

Please send all prompts to my email address–this domain name at gmail dot com.
*Also, if you just feel like emailing me, that’s acceptable, too. I like emails, though I sometimes usually take awhile to respond. Emails also make me happy, though. If you won’t participate in Word & Question, correspondence is an acceptable substitution.

I would like to apologize for being so very late with this.  It came to me in bits and pieces, and it simply wasn’t ready for public consumption until today.  This is obviously for the month of January.  Until yesterday, I had been working a temp job that, combined with getting ready and commuting, took up over 12 hours of my day, 5 days a week.  It was taxing trying to manage that and the other obligations in my life, so I have had very little free time since the beginning of December, to the point that I haven’t even had a chance to look at my feed reader (read: your blog posts) in seemingly forever.  I just opened it and nearly had a heart attack.  It will be tackled later.  Anyway, head over here to read the other submissions which are in all likelihood much better and timely than my own. (Feel free to chastise my tardiness in the comments.) My own is currently untitled.  I also apologize for whatever format this decides to take; it does have a very specific visual orientation the way I composed it and shows up on a Word document, but for some reason has lost its form here.  I have tried to correct it to the extent that I can, but it would appear that WordPress isn’t having it.  This is quite frustrating since the form is integral to the poem.  I’ll keep trying, but if you’re curious, email me and I’ll send you the Word document so you may see how it is supposed to look.

Word: Leaving
Question: Where can compassion be found?

Raindrops fall on punished pave
The push of wind hardens again,
Leaving a shield of ice in
Its wake, cracking and holding
Under the weight and growing,
Growing evermore while tears just
Drip
and
drop
and
pelt
and
pound
Burning through freezing
‘Til hope is                      drowned

Standing
In             wait
Umbrella     in     hand
Holding
Off
Pulsing
Pain

Tears slide down where yours would be
To waiting ice—a glaze, a sea
Prayers sent out on sails of leaves
Bereft of roots beneath the freeze
And ‘til my heart runs black and blue
I wait in the shadows
Breathing for two

I KNOW.  I am very late with this.  I did sort of a whirlwind visit back home from the 21st to the 28th, and that left me very exhausted with very little time to do anything.  I also am working a temporary job through the beginning of February that takes up about 12 hours of my day adding in getting ready for work and commuting.  I apologize. Without further ado–

The Mirror

glazed over eyes with a glacial stare
slid down strap and slipshod hair

blowdryer and comb to tease and tame
lipstick and blush for a made-up name

pyjamas, glasses, and just-washed skin
no trace of her life of sin

while she’s safe in her bed sound asleep
it’s the last which I’ll savour and keep

word: glacial
question: What did the mirror want to see?

Head over here to read the rest of December’s submissions. You know, the ones that were actually posted in December.

Don’t let the title confuse you–while this is the fifth installment of Word & Question, it is the first time I am participating.  For those of you not in the know, the basic premise of Word & Question is this: each month, someone hosts the event; (s)he receives a word and a question–any word and any question (within reason and propriety)–from everyone participating, and then (s)he matches words and questions and sends them out to each participant who then must write a poem which somehow answers the question and contains the word.  Everyone then posts his or her poem, providing a link on to it on the host’s website, and then everyone reads everyone else’s poem by the submitted date and comments with something nice about each poem.  So, in summary, it gets people writing poetry without fear of mockery or cruelty.  Basically, it’s a wonderfully ingenious idea.  Without further ado, this is my submission for this month’s Word & Question, hosted by one of my favourite individuals (and founts of wisdom) (i.e., the catalyst and introduction to my participation), Ellen.

Word: glass

Question: Why does this place smell familiar?

A Dusting of (Re)membran(c)es

A dusting of time and memories,
Beheld in tender temerity
As I stood upon a promontory of Reckoning,
Unyielding in its decadence and
Remembrance of a time forgotten

Screaming silence ushers forth
From sepia, wool, and paint;
Whilst glancing before the looking glass,
A faint scent of antiquity arouses
Remembrance of a time forgotten

Incipient warmth not long to last
As wishful dreams start fading fast;
Whimsical tales of fairytales and love
Inspired from fragrant fallacies turn to
Remembrance of a pain begotten

Don’t forget to head over to Ellen’s to check out the other submissions on the 27th!