Sketch #6/Submission #8: Choose one of the following or write/develop something already
started, even if it is an idea for something else. JUST WRITE!
1. Keep an ear out for the first sentence (or even word) that is said to you after you read this
prompt. (Poetic license: If the first few words are exceptionally boring, wait for the first uncommon
or peculiar one.) Take that word/sentence — it could be “mango” or “exemplar” or “have you ever
been to this Ethiopian restaurant?” — and build a poem around it. Maybe you have deep thoughts
on mangoes or a narrative of heartbreak and spicy injera from the restaurant mentioned. Trust in
fate.
2. Arthur Koestler wrote: “The moment of truth, the sudden emergence of a new insight, is an act
of intuition.” Akin to a “sixth sense,” intuition brings pieces together. It gives the gift of heightened
awareness.One single, specific memory I have from a math class comes from the first day of
geometry class. I was 15 years old. The teacher asked “What is intuition?” I raised my hand — an
unusual act for me when math was involved. “Intuition is having a hunch,” I said, “sort of knowing
or having an idea of something out of the blue, like without really knowing you somehow know.”
What does this have to do with your life and your poetry? Take a moment to remember a
breakthrough moment in your life or a “freeze-frame” moment from long, long ago. An “a-ha” or
an “epiphany” moment or a moment that has a story yet to tell. Let’s prepare to write a poem
using our intuition intentionally today. Write this prompt on your page: “When I remember my “aha moment” from my past, I understand the place I am meant to go with my words and poetry
today is … ”Restate the prompt as you free-write and don’t write a poem yet. Instead, go about
your business of the day purposefully not writing a poem. Notice surprising turns of phrases you
hear. Listen to people who say things to you that seem especially surprising, lyrics to songs.
Eavesdrop intentionally. Wait for at least 2 hours and then write your poem from the words your
intuition and your free-writing gave you.
3. Take a word that’s part of you — your name, your birth month, your favorite animal, your
guiding principle. Write that word vertically down a page and use the letters to start the lines of a
poem. When you’re done, you’ll have an acrostic poem. (Though the prompt could be as simple
as “write an acrostic poem,” the word sounds scary this late in the month. This prompt is
designed to ease you into the final stretch. Don’t stress too much about the word you choose.
4. What do people notice about you most often? (You smile, your hair, your hands, your sense of
humor, etc.) Begin your next prompt with the line, “People always tell me…” How do you feel
about it? See the Sarah Kay poem attached.
5. Prompts from Sarah Kay:
a. Write a poem that begins with at least 3 “I remember phrases. At least one of them should be a
song lyric.
b. Think of your 5 senses: sight, touch, smell, taste, and hearing. Choose 2-3 of them and
describe a scene in detail, focusing on the senses.
c. Write a poem about a piece of art. This is an Ekphrasis poem.
d. Write a love poem…for a nontraditional item or person, for a cartoon character, a cleaning
supply, candy, a piece of clothing, whatever.
e. Watch the news or think of current events. Write a poem about one of the stories you see.
(Search news online/phone for ideas)
f. Write about your heart—not about what it does or who it loves, but the odd and weird stuff it is
made of. Personify it, use metaphors and imagery…is your heart an old man or made of glass?
g. Make list of…
Things you should have learned by now, your favorite sounds, things you know to be true, things
that make you angry, the most unusual things you do every day, things you no longer believe.
Billy Collins has a poem called “Instructions to the Artist” where he explains to an artist what he
wants his portrait to look like. Try writing your own instructions to the artist or mix it up with
instructions to the songwriter, rapper, sculptor, choreographer, poet, teacher, cook,
actor,,whatever you like. Be demanding. Use your descriptions as metaphors for your
personality. You can find an audio recording of it here. http://vimeo.com/24292042
See his TedTalk about poetry. For the Billy Collin’s TED TALK shown today, go to
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddw1_3ZVjTE
6. In the vein of Sarah Kay, write a poem that describes what you will tell/teach your daughter or
son.
7. Write a poem or list or musing or story that begins with, “My mother/father always tells me…”
and follow it with what you think about what that parent always tells you.
Sarah Kay poem on “Hands”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuAbGJBvIVY
People used to tell me that I had beautiful hands. Told me so often infact that one day I started to
believe them, until I asked my photographer father 'hey daddy could I be a hand model?', to
which he said 'no way'. I don't remember the reason he gave me, and I would've been upset but
there were far too many stuffed animals to hold, too many homework assignments to write, too
many boys to wave at, too many years to grow. We used to have a game, my dad and I, about
holding hands. Cos we held hands everywhere. And every time either he or I would whisper a
great big number to the other, pretending that we were keeping track of how many times we had
held hands. That we were sure this one had to be 8, 002, 753. Hands learn more then minds do.
Hands learn to hold other hands. How to grip pencils and mould poetry. How to tickle piano keys,
dribble basketballs and grip the handles of a bicycle. How to hold old people and touch babies. I
love hands like I love people. They are the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way
through life. Some people read palms to tell you your future, but I read hands to tell your past.
Each scar makes a story worth telling. Each callused palm each cracked knuckle a missed punch
or years working in a factory.Now I've seen middle eastern hands clenched in middle eastern
fists, pounding against each other like Each country sees their fists like warriors and enemies.
Even if fists alone are only hands. But this is not about politics, no hands are not about politics.
This is a poem about hands, and fingers. Fingers interlock like a beautiful zipper of prayer. One
time I grabbed my dad's hand so that our fingers interlocked perfectly. But he changed position
saying "no, that hand hold is for your poem!". Kids high-five but grown ups shake hands. You
need a firm handshake, but don't hold on too tight, but don't let go too soon, but don't hold on for
too long. Hands are not about politics. When did it become so complicated? I always thought it
was so simple. The other day my Dad looked at my hands as if seeing them for the first time and
with laughter behind his eyelids, and with all the seriousness a man of his humour could muster
he said "you know you've got nice hands, you could've been a hand model!".