Sunday, I spent the entire day writing four rhyming poems. I wanted to get the lines short and the language and the rhymes dense. I kept thinking "chewy."
It was fun.
I felt that I needed those rhyming poems to serve as a bridge in my collection of (now 17!) prose poems, something to provide a little variety of form and format the way a bridge in a song provides an interlude.
But I'm using the bridge to separate something into two, not to bring two sections together. Hmmm...
As we hover on the cusp of a new year, a bridge seems like a good metaphor for many things not crossed yet, not burned yet, not worried over. (Although I do remember riding along in Costa Rica one lane over from a gaping hole in the bridge, with the river rushing far below.)
This year has been exhilerating and sometimes exhausting. I'm ready to bridge to a new one.
How about you? What are your bridges? And do you ever feel the need to just shake things up?
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2 comments:
Joannie~
Right now, I think I'm in a bag and someone is shaking me up - much the way you would put chicken or pork chops in a bag with coating and shake them.
I think I got on a bridge about 4 months ago and maybe I'm in the middle and can't seem to get across. I've been trying to shake up my writing and I think in doing so I've gained some positive things but at the same time I feel something is being lost. Actually, it's more like I got halfway across and fell off into the river and I'm looking for a life saver.
Michael, that's a tough place to be in. And I want to say that it's also a real growing place to be. (Please pardon my Pollyanna.)
If I can help you find a life ring, I will.
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