Secret Lines

I’ve been slacking again, so I will be doing two poetry posts in one today.


“Everyone has demons…Make a postcard, or several, about your secrets. Put the postcards into your journal. You might want to send one to PostSecret.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

Yeah, so since these things are secrets, I’m not posting them here. I will eventually send them to PostSecret, so just keep looking there and maybe someday you’ll see mine.

“As an exercise: Write a prose piece, then break it into lines. Look for a line length that seems to work for the prose, and try to make each line about that length. You may need to change, add, or delete words from the original piece to create lines of equal length.

“Using the same subject, and without looking back at the first piece you wrote, write a new piece that you compose line by line.

“Study the differences.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

From Prose

I don’t know

what to say.

Saying anything,

Yes or no,

Will pull out

So many skeletons

from my closet.

I don’t know

him very well

why should I

tell my secrets

By Line

It’s not fair

I didn’t try to convert him

I didn’t try to change him into Dan

He did it himself

He’s to blame

It’s not fair

He thinks he’s got a better chance

He thinks that I’ll say yes

I can’t tell him

I won’t tell him

It’s not fair


And One and Stretch….

“Write an opening sentence. Now delete the period, add a comma, and then add one of the following words or phrases to your sentence:

but      although

or       because

and    when

like      in spite of

as if

as though”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

When I look into a mirror do I perceive what others see

or has People blinded me?

Am I equal or less than?

Am I even a comparison?

Who should I see in the mirror?

A face, average and kind,

or good deeds, a loving heart,

hopes, dreams and busts?

And when I look

And when they look

Who sees right?

Fourth Door: End Rhyme

“Rhyming is another way to generate a new direction.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

“Oh, life is wonderful,” she said

when asked about the life she led.

“Tears and laughter have been bred

In worse a life instead.

So do not fret

I am not mad,

just rarely ever sad.”

Excuses, Excuses

I haven’t posted any poetry in over a week, and, to quote Hotel Transylvania, “I didn’t do that.” Anyway, the motherboard on my computer died, and I’ve been working and helping my mom prep for my brother’s high school graduation party. Now that it’s all over, I will finally post the three writing prompts I responded to.


“Look up a word’s roots, and write a poem that explores or includes that information. Here’s a lyrical prose poem by A. Van Jordan that immediately mixes in the speaker’s own associations and memories.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

From Latin: rapa

noun: a type of plant. Helpless, rooted. The men come and ruthlessly pull at its leaves and stems. It must submit, how can it move? Such a fragile thing used, broken, pieces taken. The men leave, and this half plant must face the world still.

First Door: Repeating Several Words

“I read her my poems and she said, ‘Oh, I am so sorry for you!’

I read her the newspaper and she said, ‘Oh, I am so sorry for everyone else.’

I read her a novel and she said, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t like novels unless they have happy endings.’

I read her my old love letters and she said, ‘Oh, I am still so sorry for you.'”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

My repetition poem is based on an American Sentence I wrote as an exercise earlier in this experiment. It then turned into a game to drop one syllable each line. I don’t really like the prompt but I think the poem turned out alright.

Silence is impossible in a place that allows any children.

Silence is impossible in a place that allows sadness.

Silence is impossible in a place that has laughter.

Silence is impossible in a place that has death.

Silence is impossible in a place with love.

Silence is impossible where people fight.

Silence is impossible where we live.

Silence is impossible in life.

Silence is impossible hope.

Silence is impossible.

Second Door: Repeating the Opening

Anaphora is the repetition of an opening word or phrase like, ‘I read’ in the first example above. Anaphora is a powerful tool, used by Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg and legions of other poets.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

I borrowed the first line from a classic novel to start my poem. Can you guess which one?

I am an Invisible Man

I am glass

I am present but not seen

I am not noticed

I am not happy

I am a person

I am a person who wants to be heard,

                           with feelings, ideas and dreams

I am brilliant

          but no one knows because

I am an Invisible Man

Third Door: Repeating the Ending

“In tradition of Alaskan Inuit poetry, the last word or phrase of a line gets picked up in the beginning of the next. So the lines might go something like:

I went down to the river

the river that flowed east,

east toward the sun.”

-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”

We didn’t talk about the stories

Stories with hidden truths

Truths lie

Lie with dreamers deep

Deep in sleep

Sleep, child, and dream

Dream of future stories

Stories to become truths

Two Babies and Life is Insane





So, it has been two weeks since Fred was born. By 1 week old, he almost 1 cm tall. A week later and Fred is now 2 cm tall.

image image


George has a much sadder tale. When Fred was one week old, George was pronounced dead. I tried again, and within the last few days George was born.image

If Fred and George are looking a little sad this week, it’s because my grandma was over and slept in my room this weekend. I neglected to feed them for three or four days. Let’s just say I’m glad ecological services doesn’t know, I could lose my babies.