Friday, February 23, 2024

Poetry Friday: Love Letters to February



The challenge this month was to write a poem in the form of a love letter, taking a cue from Valentine's Day, I suppose.  I don't have anything against V-Day, but somehow, February brings out a stubborn streak in me.  In 2010, and again in 2020, I wrote a semi-tirade to this month, chastening it for its behavior.  And (maybe because it's a leap year again) I'm returning to my old friend this year, too. 

Here's a record of our correspondence: 

(2010)

Oh, February, oh February 

You make my heart sing, you do,
were it not for blinding blizzards…and the swine-iest of flu.

Oh, February, far too short the days
to count the shades of grayest grays

you send me, year after weary year.
If I were you, I'd watch my back, dear;

such nuanced love cannot last
before I exchange you for something less…overcast.

Oh, February, love is patient, love is kind;
love doesn't leave you disinclined

to climb from underneath the warmest covers
to join the bitterest, iciest, and brutalist of lovers

on the barren street, no less! to watch how much snow
you can blow and blow and blow---some beau

you are. But how can I call it quits
when you bite my cheeks and grab my wrists

kissing color into my frozen face---
Oh, February, let's March on apace!

               ---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)


(2020)

Oh, February, oh February 

You make my heart sing, you do…
Were it not for days of sixty degrees, and nights of minus two!

Tulips bloom, then crack to ice before they can be kissed;
Lovers sweat, then freeze to death if they dare outdoor trysts.

And what’s with the extra day you want to stuff
Into a month that already has it rough,

What with viruses ravaging the land,
And Astros not apologizing for whacking on a can?

February, I know claimed I was no quitter,
But that was when I thought you merely icy, brutal, bitter—

Now you unleash forest fires, and dump tornados in my lap; 
I wouldn’t swipe right on you, not on any dating app!

So cut it out, February, you heartless fool.
Be true. Be you. Go back to being cool.

-----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved) 




And here is my letter to February for 2024:

Oh, February, oh February,

It’s been four years since my last note,
and fourteen since I first wrote—

and since your time is almost through
I really shouldn’t be emailing you—

but last night I dreamt a frost with bracing
fingers crept into my bed, lacing  

the worn stairs of my cheeks with steely filigree
and veiling my silvering hair with blustery

crackling snow, until I shone slick
as glacier ice; as bright as magic—

cold breaking stone,
once again that girl, half-grown

you teased with bitter wind and bite—
oh, February, waking in slanted winter light,

I know better than to warm my heart
to you, even now years apart;

I’ll delete this letter, even if I do—
occasionally— think very coldly of you.

---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)


My poetry sisters love letter poems are here:

Kelly


Poetry Friday is hosted today by Tabitha at The Opposite of Indifference.









Friday, January 26, 2024

Poetry Friday: Writing to the Art of Roberto Benavidez

It was an easy choice to kick off 2024 with an ekphrastic challenge. Writing about or in conversation with a piece of art automatically gives a poet several places to begin:

What do you first notice? What lingers with you after you look away? Is there more to the story, things beneath the surface that you're curious about? What questions would you ask the art or the artist if you could?  

All these ideas (and more) were on my mind as I engaged with the work of Roberto Benavidez, who describes himself as "sculptor specializing in the piƱata form." Benavidez came to my attention through my brother, John, who sent me a link to an episode of Craft in America (streaming on PBS) which featured Benavdez's amazing pinatas.  I then quickly lost myself in his creations, which play with themes of "race, sexuality, art, sin, humor, ephemerality and beauty."  If you can't find something to write about in that list, look again!

But what most drew my eyes were Benavidez's paper sculptures that were inspired by another piece of art, Hieronymus Bosch's famous The Garden of Earthly Delights (also concerned with above said list...heavy on the SIN part.) It was from that body of work that I found my muse, choosing to engage not so much with sin, but with the art's humor, and the ephemerality of any physical form, be it a lifetime in a rat's twitching body or one quiet moment in a yoga pose. 

Please do go look around at Benavidez's work. And if you feel inspired, pick one to write to. Here's mine: (and apologies to this beast if he's not a rat...there's no tail, but he just felt like a rat to me.) 



Artwork by Roberto Benavidez
from his collection "Beasts in the Garden
of Earthly Delights.


RAT YOGA

 

His torso is plump as an avocado,

his bandy forelegs balancing

only ripe mischief and bravado


He’s cleared his mind of the fury

of the glinting trap, the gasping terror 

of a tail wrenched off in a blurry-hurry


Weightless, he’s free to grandstand, 

to steady his lurching heartbeat

to a joyful march inside the bandstand


of his puffed paper chest—oh so zen,

this posing rat, only his nose 

twitch-twitching now and then.

                    

                -----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved) 



Each of my fellow poets chose an artwork to write to, so go and be inspired by more of Benavidez's work, and their poems:
Kelly

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti







Friday, November 24, 2023

Poetry Friday: In the Style of Valerie Worth






One of my favorite small things: 
French green lentils


November's challenge is one of the most fun:  an invitation to write in the style of a well-known poet.  It's a chance to learn by imitation, and an opportunity to delve into the choices each poet makes when they create. This time it's Valerie Worth, who's best known for close observation, spare lines, attention to the "small things" (either in size or in importance) and an affinity for a child's viewpoint.  One of my favorite quotes about her work comes from Valerie herself: 

“It has always seemed to me that any tree or flower, any living creature, even any old board or brick or bottle possesses a mysterious poetry of its own, a poetry still wordless, formless, inaudible, but asking to be translated into words and images and sounds—to be expressed as a poem. Perhaps it could be said that written poetry is simply a way of revealing and celebrating the essentially poetic nature of the world itself.” ---as quoted in a profile of Valerie Worth, written by  Lee Bennett Hopkins for Language Arts, Vol. 68, October 1991 


I tried to honor that approach by  picking two small objects and finding the "mysterious poetry"  in them. 
The first poem was inspired by a soup I was making during our Sunday ZOOM meet-up, and by Worth's poem, "Safety Pin" in which she explores a pin both open and closed.  I did the same for a humble lentil, plucked from a bag, and examined both raw and cooked.  









Lentils

Raw,
they chatter
against the bowl,
a patch of pebbles
blotched as
turtle shells.


Cooked,
they fatten
to a chorus, sing 
of one hundred days 
in snug pods,
unspoiled sun.

---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)


By the way, did you know there's a MasterClass in growing lentils?   I relied on that as I revised my poem, making it more specific with details like how long lentils take to grow, and how much sunlight they need. Research for the win! 


The second poem was a response to the most humble thing I could find in my office: the doorstop. At first, I thought: I can't write about that.  But then I thought: but Valerie Worth would.  So I did. 








Doorstop

an outstretched arm,
its white rubber tip
a gloved fist, dampens

the fling of an opening
door, the coiled spring
catching the energy

of the wild children
who enter. 

---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)


Funny story:  the first picture I took of the doorstop showed me a dust bunny hiding behind the door.  Had to grab that and take another photo.  But maybe I should've written a Valerie Worth ode to the dust?? 


Find out more about Valerie Worth from my poetry sisters' explorations of her style and their wonderful poems.  Grateful to be writing all these years with these kind and talented poets:

Kelly

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Ruth