DAY 8: SWEAR

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Today we are to "write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Your poem could take the form of a spell, for example, or simply describe an event that can’t be understood literally. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange." 

GloPoWriMo talks about Percy Bysshe Shelley and what a poetry lover he was and how he basically "thought poetry was magic and poets were wizards." That's exactly how I feel when I'm in the zone. I just spent about half an hour/forty-five minutes writing today's poem. It's strange, all right, and I like it. I basically got out of its way, which for me is when poetry magic truly happens.

Today we visited with family in Vancouver and met Solar Queen. Given enough sunshine (never a given in Vancouver),  her  hand waves! This has nothing to do with the poem other than the prompt suggested the possibility of a spell, and there was the skull, and next thing I knew, this happened. 

Swear 

by broken clock on shanty wall

by flow, by ebb, by yang, by ying

by rune, by rasp, by ring, by roar  

by arrow's pierced and promised sting

by ship, by sail, by wind, by shore

by waft, by weft, by throng, by night

by words so lost they can't be found

by skull, by wave, by wand, by light

 by chance, by choice, by circumstance

by touch, by truth, by consequence

by froth, by firth, by petroglyph

by sob, by song, by firmament

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