(from the NaPoWriMo prompt: to peruse the work of one or more of these twitter bots, and use a line or two, or a phrase or even a word that stands out to you, as the seed for your own poem.)[The twitter bots (I added the hyperlink because I had to look it up.) in question randomly generate first lines of poems for you. I just went to my bookcase as that seemed the more reasonable course of action for me as I am not really sure how to read Twitter. The poem I chose was one of my favorites by Wendell Berry and I have posted it below.)
Out of pity,
once,
a colleague
asked me, “How
do you deal with all
that time in the chemo
ward?”
Her question assumed
silence—
a lack of things to say—
like the moment
when no one can think
of anything to say at a dinner
party or the pause
in the doctor’s office
right after he has given the
diagnosis or those
three minutes before my first
period class begins
in the morning
when no one
is really awake,
staring
at me glass-eyed,
and I silently sip
my coffee
out of a scratched blue
thermal mug
I bought for my mother
so she could take
her coffee to her
early morning
chemo sessions.
She used it mostly
to warm her hands
and I would drink
the coffee after she
had fallen to sleep
as clear, silent
necrosis dripped into
her port.
It was very quiet
after all.
Berry has been one of my favorite poets for a long time and this poem, in particular, is one that I reread frequently. (Which I recognize was not necessarily in "the spirit" of the prompt.) When you're trying to do a thing that is hard to define, you need all the help they can get... The last two lines (in orange) were my inspiration for this poem. (And yes, for the record, I think what Berry is asking here is quite difficult. Poems, after all, disrupt.
How to Be a Poet
by Wendell Berry
(to remind myself)
i
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill—more of each
than you have—inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.
ii Breathe with unconditional breath the unconditioned air. Shun electric wire. Communicate slowly. Live a three-dimensioned life; stay away from screens. Stay away from anything that obscures the place it is in. There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places. iii Accept what comes from silence. Make the best you can of it. Of the little words that come out of the silence, like prayers prayed back to the one who prays, make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came.