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Thursday, September 5, 2024

always a next time

Greetings, All!  My summer hiatus has come to a close and I'm happy to return to your company this week and particularly next week, when I'll have the honor of hosting Poetry Friday again. 

Not too much has changed since May, although an awful lot is different this year, both personally and professionally. I've dropped in over the summer because the Inklings monthly challenge has continued apace, and it's easy for me to rise to that kind of prompt. (Turns out it's much harder to rise to my own intentions, which have none of the force of someone else's expectation! A treatise on this subject sometime soon...)

And once again this week we've been offered a Good One--this time simply and straightforwardly by Mary Lee:

       Use Next Time, by Joyce Sutphen, as a mentor poem for your own Next Time poem.


I do love the way this poem is disorganized, not in a visual or syntactic way but in a conceptual way, so that the first time you read it, it seems quite sensible, but as you re-read, you realize the whole poem is built on an idea that not everyone accepts--that we get a next time, a do-over, another chance to be our-selves. And not only that, the poem goes here and there from the kitchen to a London coffee shop to Istanbul, from awake to dreaming, from knowledge of factoids to lasting connection, and it all happens subtly. I also found myself morphing from a trope about the hair & body I've always envied to, well, some-thing bigger.



I enjoyed doing the thing where I put the mentor poem in one column on the left and write my poem in the column on the right. Do you ever do it that way? 

Join me next week when the new school year will be in full swing for lots of you all, while I'm trying all over again to be a member of the Working Retired (which is nothing at all like the Walking Dead, nuh-uh).

Until then, let's thank Buffy Silverman for hosting us today, and let's be sure to visit the other Inklings to see what they'll be like Next Time.

Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading

Catherine Flynn @ Reading to the Core

Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone

Linda Mitchell @ A Word Edgewise
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche

14 comments:

  1. Was that "I think at first" always in the first line? If not, brilliant addition. If it was always there, well, silly me for reading past it.

    My favorite sounds in the poem are smack, axe, quick, rhythmic.

    And I'm glad there are no next-times because no matter how much I love this strong woman on the homestead with her muscular triceps and tight seams, I would rather have your poems than her pears any time.

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    1. No, I added it thanks to YOU. And 💗💗💗.

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  2. Loved all the details in this poem, which make me want to reject the conclusion of harvesting pears instead of writing poems! I can't quite picture Heidi without the writing and the dreaming... but I can picture the kiddo with the buck teeth and smart mouth! And I sure do agree with others expectations having more motivation than my own. Hard to impose structure and deadlines on yourself.

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  3. Heidi, I have to imagine that, regardless of what your next time poem says, you would never trade your mouth (teeth and all) or your observation of that oyster moon (lovely), or your calling out of wrongs that need to be righted. That person could never compare to your “this time.” : )

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  4. At times, I feel like your poem communicates a starting over, a new look at the action, no matter what used to be. Your words say that to me, but on the other hand, maybe you're wanting a change just to find a new way to "be" here in your "working retired" mode. It is an intriguing response to Sutphen, Heidi!

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  5. There is no way you could be ordinary, not even if you tried. Thanks for sharing a bit of your process, too.

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  6. Brava -- for the courage...and the honesty...and the wondering. And thank you for "and I will harvest pears and give them to my few friends instead of poems"

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  7. You are so right! The premise is there that we GET a next time. I love that and missed it but am so glad you brought this to your post with the fun "now" clock and next time street sign. You always bring me something new to see and I love that. I agree with Margaret...you defy ordinary! You are special and I'm so glad to know you.

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  8. I agree with everyone who's already said that, as appealing as this axe-wielding, pear-picking woman may be, she pales in comparison to the dreamer and writer you are.

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  9. Fascinating premise, Heidi, to reinvent oneself not as someone a bit different but as someone entirely new. It makes me wonder why the narrator would want that, especially with that powerful ending of just learning to love herself. (Have you heard "Hammer and a Nail" by the Indigo Girls?)

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  10. Wow, Heidi. Your response is so thought provoking. I am especially drawn to the lines, "I'll hold tight seams up to the light/and sing everything straight and forward." Your next time choices are fascinating and that final stanza is just another WOW! I want to read this one again and again and consider all its facets.

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  11. I have often thought how youth is wasted on the young - oh, how differently I'd do things, if I could do it all over again! But then again, everything has led me to the people I love, and the little person I made, so perhaps I'd just do it all over again. :)

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  12. Loving one self is so important, Heidi. Your poem is a deep one that needs more than one read for me. Thank you.

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  13. Somehow I think that the woman who harvests pears for her friends still couldn't help but care about righting the wrongs. :)

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Thanks for joining in the wild rumpus!