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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Poetry Stretch Results - Lipogram

The challenge this week was to write a lipogram. This is writing in which one or more letters of the alphabet are excluded from the work. Here's are the results.
Marianne Nielsen at Doing the Write Thing! shares a poem entitled Without. It leaves out the letter E.

Jane Yolen left this achingly beautiful and bittersweet poem in the comments.
    Without U

    When my dear one died,
    I was by his side
    in a chair,
    holding his hand,
    speaking of love.
    His son standing
    played a song
    he’d especially loved.
    Then son and I,
    now the only “we” in the room,
    whispered
    “Go across the water,”
    which the song spoke of.
    “Go beloved,
    sans fear, sans care
    for the children, wife, life.”
    And he floated away
    in death becoming
    earth,
    sky,
    memory,
    blessing,
    and birdsong.
Tess of Natural Worlds wrote a poem entitled THEY. It leaves out the letter I.

Schelle at Brand New Ending wrote a reverse lipogram in which the same letter appears in every word. Her poem is entitled Dragonfly.

Julie Larios at The Drift Record also left a poem in the comments. It is written without the letter U.
    SAVED

    Saved the last
    dance for him, saved
    a polka, saved
    the sad song
    for someone else,
    meanwhile saved the whales,
    saved the three little pigs
    from the wolf,
    saved me from myself
    while he waited,
    saved pennies, saved
    lives, saved
    the waving wheat,
    saved anything
    in need of saving,
    saved collectibles,
    saved green stamps,
    saved salt
    and pepper shakers,
    saved styrofoam boxes,
    saved the day
    and the planet
    all while he waited,
    and then he saved me
    a piece, saved me
    a seat, saved me
    a place in Heaven.
Lisa Chellman at under the covers wrote a poem without the letter I. It is called _dent_ty Theft.

cloudscome at a wrung sponge left this poem in the comments.
    U ter ectomy
    by Andromeda Jazmon

    When the tears
    didn't stop
    the weeping became
    boring and messy.
    I called the doctor.

    She said
    it's probably
    that age
    we know what comes now.

    Then later she called
    back on the eve
    of nativity.
    The test showed
    it's leaning toward
    cancer.

    Gather what is needed,
    Prepare to be gone
    three days &
    come back slowly.

    The fist that clenched
    life and spit it
    from me.
    The rose that pealed
    red in layers of pink.
    The shell that rocked
    in anger (twisted
    in strength).

    Gone. Only the ache
    remains.
I've been working on poems about nocturnal animals all week. In my efforts I've tried to leave out the letters A and E. Here is the start of one.
Brought out of
obscurity by
soft moonlight
two rustling owls
hoot hoot
It's not to late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your lipogram and I'll add it to the list.

1 comment:

  1. Jane's poem is truly astonishing. So tender and full of grace. She's gifted us with her deepest love.

    I think I can share this now but may need to come back and edit (the ink isn't dry):

    U ter ectomy

    When the tears
    didn't stop
    the weeping became
    boring and messy.
    I called the doctor.

    She said
    it's probably
    that age
    we know what comes now.

    Then later she called
    back on the eve
    of nativity.
    The test showed
    it's leaning toward
    cancer.

    Gather what is needed,
    Prepare to be gone
    three days &
    come back slowly.

    The fist that clenched
    life and spit it
    from me.
    The rose that pealed
    red in layers of pink.
    The shell that rocked
    in anger (twisted
    in strength).

    Gone. Only the ache
    remains.

    -Andromeda Jazmon

    ReplyDelete