Poetic Challenges and Freedom

A local writing group and network I belong to called The West Florida Literary Federation (WFLF) is hosting a poem a day challenge for the month of November in 2020. Many writers participate in national novel writing challenges at this time of year, but our group wanted to focus instead on poetry.

Each day we find a poetic prompt posed on the WFLF’s Facebook page. It’s challenging and fun and is taking me out of my comfort zone. I have no idea what to expect and have no clue what to write on some days. But those who know me, also know that I like a good challenge from time to time – I need one every so often to stretch me and uplift me. It’s been so vital to my mental health this year. So I’m doing it. I don’t know how good I’m doing, but I’m doing it. That’s all that matters!

Yesterday’s poetry prompt was called “Three Ring Circus” and the prompt said the following:

“Three Ring Circus: Write a poem in the form of a three-ring circus—create three sections—each with something unique happening. To keep the poem connected, have a word, color, or unique phrase reappear in each section. You could make a list of three events that seem to have nothing to do with each other—playing tennis in a field of wildflowers, memorizing the moons of Jupiter, taking the subway or going on a boat ride—and write a poem that connects them.”

I read that and thought…what in the world? My brain feels like a circus. Some days I’m a lion, brave and angry. Other days I’m an excited kid in the stands eating popcorn. Most days I’m a clown just trying to laugh and get others around me to laugh.

But that didn’t help me? What could I write about?

I finally decided to look up English words that have multiple meanings, particularly a word that can mean and be used in three different ways. The ones that came to my mind had two. I needed three.

So a Google search brought up results. I went through the list and came upon the word “draft.” That word has multiple meanings and I thought about this one for several minutes and then was inspired to write the below poem.

I’m happy to share it with you now:
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Draft
He said a silent prayer to control his anger
His eyes still can’t believe where he is
In the jungle, in another country, far away from home
Fighting for a cause he isn’t sure he believes in
Remembering his fellow Marine who was shot last week
Thinking of the cowards who avoided the draft
Not him, he chose to serve his country
Now he’s just trying to survive and avoid diarrhea
To focus on the job he was trained to do
To return home and enjoy mama’s homemade pie.

Her first winter in Ohio should be magical
Yet she’s buried under blankets in a tiny apartment
Her cat snuggles at her legs trying to get warm too
Where is this draft coming from and why is it so cold?
She laced up boots and put on gloves
Lasting only ten minutes in 28 degrees
She learned what bone chilling meant
And is going through seasonal affective disorder
She has her husband but feels so alone
Her first Christmas without extended family around.

Stuck on the last word and unable to finish
Would she ever send this important email?
Every day it stared her in the face
Taunting her in cowardly draft mode
Do I have the courage to say the last word?
She wondered with each passing day
Courage like my grandfather did in the war?
Courage like my mom did moving across the country?
She said her prayer and rubbed her blanket for comfort
I can do this she thought, typed and hit send.

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In my poem I took some personal inspiration for sections one and two. For “ring one” (section one), I thought about my dad and conversations I’ve had with him about his time serving in Vietnam.

For “ring two” or section two, I thought a little bit about the first lonely Christmas I spent living in Ohio. It had only been a month that we moved there and didn’t know anyone. The holidays felt so lonely at the time.

The third section or “ring three” was completely made up but it was actually the first thoughts that came to me when I thought of the word “draft.” I thought about being a writer and unfinished drafts. Then I thought of an important draft that is waiting to be sent. I have no idea what this person is sending though so I thought I’d better leave it a mystery…You can decide!

See, what a challenge! What fun! Playing with words. Creating a story out of an idea. What freedom that is – how I can turn a word into a thought, a line into a story and a poem into written art or something special.

A challenge can morph into freedom. At least for me, in this case.

Try it. Join me in the challenge or follow WFLF to read other poems and meet poets.