7:53 a.m. — Atlanta
listening to Audrey Assad singing The House You’re Building
Hello, everyone. It’s good to be back for Tuesdays. I never get tired of looking forward to the poems you write in response to my prompts. For new followers who aren’t sure how Tuesdays work, simply write a poem in response to what you read here, post it on your blog and return here to give us the link, so we can read your poem. On occasions (the poem is short, you don’t want family reading the poem) people have posted their poems in the comments. Visit others and read their poems.
You will note that I do not provide a linking service. For this blog, it’s too formal and it’s easy to see the links amidst the chat. If inclined, please feel welcome to join the chatter. Also, I don’t have a time limit. Some people write and post by day’s end, or the following day; some post several days later. I keep the comments open for six months. If you finally get a poem done three months down the road, post. You are guaranteed one reader, me. For those of you who like to trawl for prompts, and collect them, I have about four years worth.
Ask questions, if you have them. Otherwise, how will you know? Right?
Okay, to today. This morning at a little before six, my husband woke me to watch the launch of a rocket from Cape Canaveral. We saw one launch in early December and were hooked because we have a link that allows us to hear the process. We groaned when we heard ‘actuator shift’ one and a half minutes before take-off and shook our heads when the flight was aborted until Friday morning. But, the excitement I felt watching the rocket sitting on its pad waiting, with the sky black behind it, was not anything I was controlling. It was there. I was in the emotion of the moment, the event.
I know exactly where I was the day JFK was assassinated; for the moon landing; during the Twin Towers. I watched all three as they were happening, because of television. Watching something days later is not the same as knowing something is happening at the same moment you are in front of a screen watching it happen.
I want you to think of a time when you watched something happen, on your television or computer, that evoked a response, of some sort, from you. Put yourself back in that moment, in those emotions and write a poem. You do not have to write about the emotions, but you may. What you write about is, as always, completely up to you.
It does not have to be huge like the events I mention. It can be as seemingly simple as watching a sporting final. I never watch sports unless they are live. Something is lost if I know it has happened, even if I don’t know what happened. The same goes for shows like The Oscars. Something is lost.
Consider point of view. Whether you write the first draft in first person, or third, try a draft with the other. The difference in effect can be startling. They each give you a different scope. If you don’t remember details, make them up. This is not a test. You don’t want a vague poem.
I shall see you Thursday for links, or announcements; Friday for the roundup of this week’s prompt sites; and next Tuesday for another prompt.
Happy writing, all.