Hello, friends!
Think of today as the pre-game stretch. We are getting our fingers warmed up for 29 days of writing in response to found objects and posting that writing the same day, as a community.
Don’t know what I’m talking about? Read this post to find out more about my annual daily writing project. Over a dozen authors gather every February to write in response to a daily prompt. In the past, we have written a month of Pantone poems and a month of responses to sound clips. This year’s theme is FOUND OBJECTS. Several friends have sent in images of objects that we will be using as our daily inspiration.
So … how does a person participate?
Leave your writing in the blog comments (feel free to post a poem or response in the comments of any project-related post). Be sure to note which day/prompt your poem or prose short goes with so I can post it on the correct day. Send in your writing ANY TIME — early, late. As long as I receive it by February 29, it will be posted along with the object of the day.
Perfect attendance is not a requirement of this project. Write and share your work as often as you like, even if it’s only once. The goal is to practice and share, not to polish, and certainly not to aim for perfection.
I know you want to see the Week 1 prompts, but be sure to read my pep talk at the bottom of this post.
Reminder: I will not be posting any information about the objects at this time. This year, we are emphasizing using all five senses in our imagery, whether we write poems or prose in response to the objects.
DAY 1 PROMPT Contributed by Robyn Hood Black (February 1)
DAY 2 PROMPT Contributed by Mary Lee Hahn (February 2)
DAY 3 PROMPT Contributed by Laura Shovan (February 3)
DAY 4 PROMPT Contributed by Charles Waters (February 4)
DAY 5 PROMPT Contributed by Matt Forrest Esenwine (February 5)
DAY 6 PROMPT Contributed by Laura Shovan (February 6)
DAY 7 PROMPT Contributed by Jone MacCulloch (February 7)
PEP TALK TIME!
Thanks for sticking with your coach instead of diving onto writing field with your prompts, everyone. Here are two examples of FOUND OBJECT writing to help you get your head in the game.
First up is an old poem of mine, written in response to found objects: a group of children’s winter coats slung over a playground fence. Enjoy these two readings. I’ll see you on Monday!
In Early Spring
by Laura Shovan
When color still arrests the eye,
a row of children’s winter coats
slung over the playground fence.
Bright as tulips, pairs of empty arms hang down.
They reach for earth, asking.
Each hood bows — a line of prayer.
But the children?
scattered like the milkweed to come,
nowhere.
From Mountain, Log, Salt, and Stone
And Poetry Friday regular Jessica Bigi sent me a story to inspire you. She writes, “Sadly, I do not have a pic to go with this, but it was inspired by a little child’s dragon hat that I saw at a yard sale.”
The Boy with the Dragon Hat
by Jessica Bigi
On a small farm on the outskirts of a Chinese village, lived a boy named Soso. Soso lived with his grandmother and would often help her gather eggs from the chickens. He helped her sell them on market day. Sometimes, Soso’s grandmother would pay him 50 yuan for helping. Though that might not seem like a lot of money, to Soso it was. He knew his grandmother did not have much money and when she gave him some he always put it in a jar until he saved up enough to buy himself something that he might like to have from the market. He would often take a break from selling eggs and walk around to see what the other villagers were selling. Some sold jars of honey, some sold vegetables, some sold bright pieces of cloth.
Then there was the dragon lady. She was one of the oldest, wisest women in the village. She sold dragons. And for every dragon she sold she told a story of wisdom to go with it. Soso loved stopping by her stand. The dragons were too expensive for him but he loved to hear the stories.
“Soso, you are a boy of great courage,” she would often tell him. “Someday you will save enough yuan to buy a dragon from me and then I will have a story for you.” Soso could hardly wait for that day so he kept saving his yuan from selling eggs.
One day, when he went to her stand he could hardly believe his eyes. “That’s it,” he said. “That is the dragon for me.” It was a hat that looked like a dragon’s head. “Dragon lady” he said, “how much is that hat?”
“Oh” she said, “Soso, that is a very special hat to be worn by a very special person. You must have courage to wear that hat. You must be strong and wise, for it is a knight’s hat.”
“I am all of those things. Dragon lady,” Soso said, “I have 10 yuan saved. Would that be enough to buy that hat?”
“Soso” she said, “first, you must do something kind for someone else. I will save the hat for you until you do so.”
As Soso walked back to the egg stand, he saw his grandmother looking at a sand sculpture at the trinket stand. She did not see him but he watched as she walked away. He thought about what the dragon lady said, walked over to the trinket stand, and said, “Miss, that lady that was just here was my grandmother. I was wondering what it was that she was looking at.”
She pointed to a sculpture of a sand castle. “This is it, son,” she said. “She told me she wished she owned a castle like this so she wouldn’t have to work so hard.”
“How much is this castle?” Soso asked. “I have 10 yuan. Would that be enough for the castle? I was saving it for myself but I would like for my grandmother to have her castle.”
“I’ll give it to you for 5 yuan,” she said. Soso was so happy that he didn’t notice that the dragon lady had seen what he had done. He went back to his egg stand.
The next day was his day that he didn’t have to go to the market and got to go play with his friends. His grandmother went to the market that day herself and Soso stayed home. On that day, the dragon lady walked over to their stand and said to Soso’s grandmother, “You have a wise grandson.”
Grandmother said, “Thank you, I am very proud of him and he is a good worker.”
Dragon lady said, “I want you to give him this hat. It is a knight’s hat and your grandson is worthy of a knight’s hat.”
“Oh, that is so kind of you,” Grandmother said. “Please, take a dozen of my eggs for your kindness.” That day, Soso’s grandmother went to look at the sand castle but noticed that it was gone from the table. Walking away, she thought about what the dragon lady said about Soso. She thought, “If only I could make our lives easier. I will wait until the weekend to give him his hat,” she said.
The next day, Soso and his grandmother were back at the market. Soso could hardly wait. He went to see the hat at the dragon lady’s stand but it wasn’t there. “I had to sell it to a knight,” she said. “Don’t be sad,” she said. “Someday I will have a story for you.”
Soso walked back to his egg cart. “Tomorrow will be Saturday. I will give grandmother her castle tomorrow.” Saturday morning, Soso and his grandmother gathered eggs from the chickens. While gathering eggs, they both told each other that they had a surprise for each other. Soso said, “Grandmother, I want you to know that you’ve given me the perfect life. I bought this for you, Grandmother.”
“Thank you, Soso,” said grandmother. As she opened it, tears streamed down her face. “It’s my castle” she said.
Soso said, “No, it’s our castle. Our home is our castle and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.” For a moment Soso forgot about the dragon lady’s hat.
As grandmother wiped tears from her eyes, she said, “I have something for you also, Soso.” As she handed him the gift, she said “Only a knight can wear this, Soso.”
To Soso, that sounded familiar but he couldn’t remember why. He opened it. “It’s my hat! My dragon hat!” he said.
“The dragon lady gave this to me to give to you. My Soso, my knight, you are the boy with the dragon hat.”
The next week when Soso and his grandmother went to the market, Soso ran to where the dragon lady’s stand was but her stand wasn’t there. Soso looked for her all over the market but never saw the dragon lady again. He remembered her stories and he loved to wear the hat she had given to him. On the walk home that evening he held his grandmother’s hand and told her that he loved her. She smiled and said “My Soso, I love you also.”
I remember reading your ‘winter coat’ poem, Laura, a lovely memory. And Jessica’s story-poem is wonderful, a love story of a different kind, and all from a dragon’s hat at a sale! Can’t wait to see what everyone writes!
Thank You Linda
Very touching story from Jessica! I’m looking forward to seeing all the prompts, Laura – and the poems that come from them!
Thank You Mat
Love the poem and the story and the whole found object concept. I’m excited to participate, but want to clarify: do I include a link to my blog post or post the actual poem/story in the comments? Please advise!
Hi, Molly. Either way is fine. Most people post their responses in the comments. If you do so, I will include your writing in the blog post for the day, alongside other people’s responses.
I’m happy to start this year’s journey into poetry. Jessica’s story is magical. I want to read it to my students.
I know this is a birthday present to yourself as much as it’s a gift to us all. Let the writing begin…
Happy birthday to a fellow Aquarius and thanks for the challenge! Here is my response to the first found object
Wooden Box
Capable hands
held the potential of
raw, green wood,
inspired,
rejecting spoon, platter,
a plethora of options,
crafted a secret-holder,
a box for treasures,
dovetailing corners
fitting the lid precisely
sanding smooth the slivers
and splinters,
adhering paper
with written words
whispering on wood
a destination
that has faded into memory
with the accumulating
patina of time.
Inside the box
echoes of those hands
and unknown treasures,
past and present,
breathe,
stirring dusty molecules
and memories.
(https://mbhmaine.wordpress.com/2016/02/01/day-1-found-object-poem/)
Day One
The Box I Keep at the Back of My Dresser Drawer
I remember
when he sent the new watch
I’d had my eye on.
He was thoughtful that way.
The postman handed me this wooden box
with the address written
in his confident handwriting.
Written before the accident,
when a whole different future lay before us.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
http://www.maryleehahn.com/2016/02/found-object-poem-project-100-year-old.html
Day One
Happy Birthday month, Laura!
In My Attic Graveyard
Not so romantic anymore.
this dusty box on the attic floor
where mice have had a meal or three.
Something’s gnawed on the corner – See!
Mildew’s set in, the smell has set;
perhaps some days in the sun will get
the box back to its sweet wood smell,
the better ready to show it well.
Mister E.N. Chisholm of Lycoming County
received and paid dear for this precious bounty:
the final effects of his fallen friend,
perished among trees of far Ardennes.
Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved
Day One Prompt
Box Of Memories
By Jessica Bigi
Simply a box
Stained from tea
Ginger ‘nutmeg
Scented cheery would
A splintered craft of
Grandfather’s hands
Who we’ve never meant
Momma’s tearful voice
Saying take only this box
Some jam and bread
Leathers I’ve wrote you
Small carved horses that
Grandfather made
Mint tea A jar of salted broth
Pitchers of momma and me
My tearful voice saying
Momma pleas go too
Take this box dear girl
Only one of us can go
somamma must stay
I too young to understand
Sailed that rain soaked ship
Witch smelled of salty grime
My box of perishes memories
I brought to shear with
An aunt I’ve never meant
her land my new home
eating bread with Jam
we opened my box and
Wiped tears from our eyes
Oho child how I miss your mother
You have her beautiful eyes
I smiled and hugged my aunt
You he mommas hugs and
Beautiful heart I told her
you have mammas hugs
Day 2’s prompt
Poem By Jessica Bigi
Vegetable Soup
Vegetables
Eggplants
Green peppers
Egg noodles
Tomato’s salt
Alphabet noodles
Bay leaf beats
Lentils leaks
Elbow macaroni
Summer squash
Onions Oster crackers
Unbelievably delicious
Parmesan cheese Smile
Box
Tongue in groove he tells me
is how they used to do it,
before nails
before cardboard and glue.
This old box
traveled over miles
snow-covered hills,
through the mountains, perhaps.
I slide the wood
across grooves
breathe pine, spicy pipe tobacco,
remember my grandfather’s
stories of the railroad,
how steam would rise above
houses and whistle
his way home.
Day 4
Poem By Jessica BIgi
Not I Sharif
Fly on the wall
I saw nothing
I heard nothing
Humming of fans
Eggs firing on the floor
Shooting sticky words
Like rattle snakes tongs
Pluming clouds of stall sugars
Fingers shuffle papers
As I wright my name
not I Sharif
I saw nothing
I heard nothing
Humming of fans
Not I Sharif -Not I
Fly on the wall
[…] to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. At the end of the month, I’ll have prizes for the most frequent contributors. However, […]
Day 2
Poem by Jessica Bigi
Berry Picking
Bear lags scratchy tehsils
Grandmother shadow curling
Under my feet
Tasseled fields of winding hills
Windy chimes brushing rose checks
Whistles of laughter swings from buckets
Sweetness of berry’s feel the breeze
Purple berry giggles
Let grandmother know I’ve eaten moor
Then I’ve but in my bucket
At home just for fun
We count our berries
croton
day 3
Day 2
Poem by Jessica Bigi
Berry Picking
Bear lags scratchy tehsils
Grandmother shadow curling
Under my feet
Tasseled fields of winding hills
Windy chimes brushing rose checks
Whistles of laughter swings from buckets
Sweetness of berry’s feel the breeze
Purple berry giggles
Let grandmother know I’ve eaten moor
Then I’ve but in my bucket
At home just for fun
We count our berries
forget this line
Looks like grandmother has berry giggles too
Got it, Jessica. I’m not sure I have the first line right. Could you check it for me?
with words are confusing to you ? first line Bar legs scratchy thistles
Day 5
Poem By Jessica Bigi
Garden Tomatoes Memory’s
Salt
Black pepper
Tangy venerate
Drizzling oil
Beefsteak tomatoes
Our gardens prize
Haves in a bool
There best as
Dad told his story
Moth watering
Tomato juice smile
Italian bread baking
In grandmother oven
Slices of garden tomatoes
Thick slices of onions
Water my eyes
How the hobos left the Trans
Docking on her door
For homemade bread and
Tomato sandwiches
Dad’s mouth watered eh
Loved his with onions
How I long to hear his voice
Whistle his story to me
How I love my dad and a bool
Of garden tomatoes
Day 5
Poem By Jessica Bigi
Garden Tomatoes Memory’s
Salt
Black pepper
Tangy venerate
Drizzling oil
Beefsteak tomatoes
Our gardens prize
Haves in a bool
There best as
Dad told his story
Moth watering
Tomato juice smile
Italian bread baking
In grandmother oven
Slices of garden tomatoes
Thick slices of onions
Water my eyes
How the hobos left the Trans
knocking on her door
For homemade bread and
Tomato sandwiches
Dad’s mouth watered he
Loved his with onions
How I long to hear his voice
Whistle his story to me
How I love my dad and a bool
Of garden tomatoes
Day 6
Poem By Jessica Bigi
How Roomers Start
Sanofi’s
Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
Silver spared boots
Spring a ghostly tall
Of gold up there
In those hills
Not to wise Billy barber
Strangely Disappeared
Chatter- chatter-
Chatter Sanofi’s
Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
Day 2: Market Fare
The musky scent of summer’s gifts,
Arrives solicitous, upon the wind,
Gazes adrift consume the view,
As organic rainbows suffuse,
Joyful laughter ebbs and flows,
Crimson juices southward goes,
Melodies contour their staff,
As mothers sway, bounce and tap,
Fill your bag and fill your soul,
There’s more at market than escarole.
[…] For those of you who are new to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. […]
day 7
Poem By Jessica Bigi
How Roomers Start
Santa Fe Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
Silver spared boots
Spring a ghostly tall
Of gold up there
In those hills
Not to wise Billy barber
Strangely Disappeared
Chatter- chatter-
Chatter Santa Fe
Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
Jessica Bigi February 4, 2016 at 9:06 am
day 7
Poem By Jessica Bigi
How Roomers Start
Santa Fe Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
Silver spurred boots
Spring a ghostly tall
Of gold up there
In those hills
Not to wise Billy barber
Strangely Disappeared
Chatter- chatter-
Chatter Santa Fe
Golden tooth
Barbershop chatter
[…] This year’s theme is FOUND OBJECTS. For those of you who are new to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. […]
[…] For those of you who are new to my blog, please read my introductory post about the February daily write-in. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. […]
Laura, I found the found objects for Day 4 and Day 5 interesting ones to compose poems for. They are at my blog site and will be offered for Poetry Friday this week. Thank you for this creative challenge to enjoy.
http://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2016/02/found-object-poetry.html
[…] thanks again to Laura Shovan for the series of prompts this month, and for all of today’s poetry fun and links, please visit Tricia Stohr-Hunt at The Miss […]
This poem is for Day 1, the wooden box.
Don’t Look
Dad said don’t look in the box.
He stared me down.
My eye dropped to his boots
as if weighted by sinkers.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“Promise me.”
My eye flickered up, and
his brown eyes held me fast.
“Promise,” he repeated.
“I promise.”
I kicked a rock clear up
the blue-back mountain.
I listened hard for turkeys.
I wound around dusty paths.
I hunted ginseng,
but I found nothing but weeds.
Every step I took,
I remembered that plain-looking box.
That box looked as boring as boots.
That infernal box, that magical,
crazy-making box!
I got to remembering the box
and not the promise.
I ate my chicken and dumplings,
swimming and dunking in gravy.
I scooped up my peas
and held my nose closed.
I could still taste them.
I gobbled them quick as cake,
my face making the death grimace.
I washed away the pea flavor with
my last biscuit, saved up
for just that moment.
My mama eyed my plate
and gave a nod, remembering
the other times.
Peas hidden in my napkin.
Peas dropped for the dog.
Peas smuggled to Henry.
These peas are tiny lumps
of poison in my belly
but the biscuit covers them.
I lay down alongside Henry, but
as far away as I can manage.
He stank of coal dust from
his new job in the mines.
Mama was so proud of her eldest.
Is that where I’m headed?
I remember the box
and wonder. And wish.
I sneak downstairs, easing along the wall,
where the boards don’t squeak,
until I’m standing over it.
My hand’s ready to lift.
I hold my breath, as if without breathing,
it’s not really me doing the lifting.
I close my eyes.
I lift the cover.
Is it jewels? Grandpappy’s watch?
Turkish Delight? Cocoa beans?
I open my eyes.
It’s dark and I can’t be sure.
I light a candle, hoping papa
doesn’t hear the scratch.
It’s empty. Not even a speck of dust.
Empty.
“That’s right, Andie.”
I drop the lid down and spin around.
Now I remember my promise.
My dad’s bare feet poke from under
his flannel robe.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Andie, it’s as empty as broken promises.
Only when you keep your word
do you find treasure.”
Daddy turned his back on me.
I was left with a guttering candle.
And a feeling in my belly like
the taste of peas.
What a wonderful prompt. Thanks for letting me add my words.
Laura! What a turnout you’ve gotten from your first week!!! I’m my usual lame, no-time-to-think-let-alone-write-a-poem self, but hopefully I’ll jump in at some point.
Michelle, I look forward to that. I enjoy reading your community write-ins, even though I don’t participate very often.
[…] This year’s theme is FOUND OBJECTS. For those of you who are new to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. […]
[…] new to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. At the end of the month, I’ll have prizes for the most frequent contributors. However, there’s […]
Hi there, Laura. I have a special affinity for dragon ladies, being one myself. Lovely poem!
[…] For those of you who are new to my blog, please read my introductory post about the February daily write-in. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. […]
Day 5 –
Tomato
Red Sunrise slices
Through the morning garden sky
Sweet, warm rain to come.
©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved
******
Day 6
Dolls Left Behind
Do you ever wonder where
They went –
The dolls left behind
When you left childhood?
You closed that door one day
And went on to Trixie Belden,
The Spaceship Under the Apple Tree,
Horses,
And then boys.
But the dolls stayed
Not reading books,
Not riding horses,
Not growing up.
Does someone else own
Kathy, the walking doll,
who couldn’t really walk, or
Thumbelina, who moved like a real baby,
That is,
If a baby had a big pink knob on its back.
How about Miss Ballerina, who could no longer dance
Due to one broken ankle?
– thank you, dear brother –
Did they all get tossed into the trash
One day
When I wasn’t looking in their direction
Any more?
Do you ever miss them?
I do.
©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved