I have no other
ransom money, nothing to break
or barter but my life.
—Diane di Prima
So when
you
ask for
more
I lie
down
in your
forest
full of
chance
and say
OK.
Take it
all.
I want
nothing
but your
teeth
against my
neck
and your
howl
in my
ears.
Prompt: “This poem was written for Poetry Postcard Fest 2021, in response to the image of a wolf on the front of a postcard, and lines from that year’s featured poet, Diane di Prima. It is also written in a form called the dyo, invented by Jimmy Pappas.”
Caitlin Buxbaum: “Prompts have a way of pulling poems out of me, like the needle that pushes a splinter from the skin; the further the prompt is from the ideas I most need to express, the more likely it is to get those words on paper. I don’t know if any of that makes sense.” (web)
Rose Pone: “I enjoy writing poetry for multiple reasons. First of all, I’m simply a creative person, but writing poetry also requires knowledge and intelligence. This causes both sides of the brain to work in a manner that can only be described as satisfactory, or thirst quenching. As well as this, I enjoy the effortless escape from reality. In poetry, you can incorporate things from your life, but tamper with them however you may wish.”
John Brehm: “I write poetry for many reasons: to get beyond what I think I know, to pay attention, to experience flow states of consciousness, to delight in the music and texture of language, to connect with something larger and more mysterious than myself, to remember my true nature. But mostly I do it for the money.” (web)
“To the Child Watching His Grandmother Sew” by Bradford KimballPosted by Rattle
Image: “Seamstress” by Lily Prigioniero. “To the Child Watching His Grandmother Sew” was written by Bradford Kimball for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, August 2023, and selected as the Editor’s Choice. (PDF / JPG)
Comment from the series editor, Megan O’Reilly: “There is a profound sense of warmth, both emotionally and visually, in this beautiful image, which is reflected in ‘To the Child Watching his Grandmother Sew.’ The simple yet extraordinary idea of a grandmother’s sewing as a child’s first music is elegantly executed, never overdone or heavy-handed. I also love the way the poet uses light: The grandmother waits until ‘the lights burn out’ to run the sewing machine so she doesn’t wake the child, which for me conjures a picture of the child listening to this ‘music’ while in a dreamlike state in another room—a deeply resonant image. There is a great deal of love in this poem—it makes me miss the ‘steady hum’ of my own grandmother.”
Caitlin Buxbaum: “Prompts have a way of pulling poems out of me, like the needle that pushes a splinter from the skin; the further the prompt is from the ideas I most need to express, the more likely it is to get those words on paper. I don’t know if any of that makes sense.” (web)
Arthur Russell: “I thought I could escape my father and his car wash in Brooklyn, run away to Manhattan and succeed as an actor or as a writer and never have to reckon, as an adult, with his cruel opinions of people and the world, but I fell back into his orbit and worked closely with him for many years, and when I did escape, it was only through the door that led to law school, the profession he had chosen for all three of his children, possibly because he had dropped out of law school himself. At the Car Wash is a book of poems written over the last eight years, poems that I continue writing beyond the work between these covers, dredging, sorting, reordering and sometimes celebrating, but always reckoning, almost forty years on, with the reckoning that made me.”
