Journal 6

Prompt 3

 

I used to sit on the side of the road with you.

I used to lay into your chest, laughing at the people walking by.

We used to talk about them, you and I.

 

I used to feel love for you as if you were my brother,

You used to foster our platonic love.

You used to never want me to feel pain or sadness.

 

We used to walk around Old Town,

We used to giggle secrets into each other’s ears.

You used to always smile when you were with me.

 

I used to pour my heart out to you.

You used to care.

You used to tell me we would be friends forever.

 

I used to believe it.

 

Journal 5

(Take two, hopefully it will post this time!)

 

Ephemeral Life (Cento)

By Ginny Bixby

 

All who would have seen us dead

are dead.

This is a woman’s confession:

Life, friends, is boring.

What is important is to avoid

the time allotted for disavowels.

The pages turn. Words often fall between

the rising walls where your shadow

draws to an end.

This is the world we wanted.

 

Louise Glück, Simone Muench, John Berryman, Simone Muench, Louise Glück

 

Journal 4

Version 1

 

The cows

stand under

the trees in the

wet grass,

lifting

their necks to pull

leaves down.

We

slow down

the truck,

pull over to

the side of

the road to watch

them.

How graceful

they look,

how unlike

themselves.

We

get out and lean on

the fence.

The cows

don’t seem to notice

we are there.

In this version, I broke the line after each noun. I did this to add emphasis to the importance of the nouns and their characterization- i.e.- the cows, the fence, etc.

Version 2

The cows stand under the trees

in the wet grass,

lifting their necks to

pull leaves down.

We slow down the truck,

pull over to

the side of the road

to watch them.

How graceful they look,

how unlike themselves.

We get out and

lean on the fence.

The cows

don’t seem to notice we are there.

For this version, I read the poem out loud and broke where it felt most natural, as it would in dialogue. This version serves for more natural storytelling, like a more casual conversation.

Version 3

The cows stand

under the trees

in the wet

grass, lifting their

necks to pull

leaves down. We

slow down the

truck, pull over

to the side

of the road

to watch them.

How graceful they

look, how unlike

themselves. We get

out and lean

on the fence.

The cows don’t

seem to notice

we are there.

I wanted to do an unorthodox lineation with little rhyme or reason. I decided to break at three words per line because it was aesthetically pleasing to the eye and provided a very interesting rhythm to read.

Journal 3

Version One

I’ve never been to a viewing before.

The people are as silent as the moonlight

Though occasionally a burst of laughter

Innocent, like a toddler’s

Falls out

From a childhood friend

Or an older uncle.

My best friend hugs me from behind

His grip as tight as tied leather cording on a boot

I don’t want him to let go

I feel as secure and safe as a lamb in her flock.

I can’t look at the body

Or the tears will fall

One by one, like dainty raindrops

I avoid it

Like avoiding the dentist

It has to be handled, but I must put it off.

 

Version Two

I’ve never been to a viewing before.

The people are as silent as the dryer running

Though occasionally a burst of laughter

Innocent, like an unwrapped sweet

Falls out

From a childhood friend

Or an older uncle.

My best friend hugs me from behind

His grip as tight as a child’s on a beloved doll

I don’t want him to let go

I feel as secure and safe like I am wearing a cozy sweater

I can’t look at the body

Or the tears will fall

One by one, like dead flower petals

I avoid it

Like avoiding chores

It has to be handled, but I must put it off.

Journal 2

At Castiglia’s Restaurant
The cheerful voices chimed
I tried to forget my editor’s cruel and unhelpful comments.
Cortisol is bad for you
It’s like an internal drug
So I try to shake the anxiety of the day out of my bone.
Who knew that my talent may be unappreciated here?
They were talking about fake news behind me today
I want to explain to them how it really works
I wish we had a female president.
Strong women fly like birds above
I feel like my talents only involve debating brands of pre-salted edamame.
There’s more to life than Snapchat
And my friends and I have differing opinions on abortion.
Strong women are being trampled in the dirt
Why can we never shatter the glass?
The old tires still work, however
Even my brother admits this.
Society is God’s life blood
I can’t stop asking him why this happened.
The prolific hatred of the vagina must end even though that’s not all it is
The girl, the boy, the person somewhere in between
I still look to Hillary, the president I needed
And I am grateful for the sharp, asterisk shaped, silver crack
Go break through the crack.

Journal 1

Taste: metallic, salt tears, chalk, latte, lemon ice cream, Qdoba, Turkey Hill tea, popcorn, mint, chocolate, guacamole, Benny’s, Sugar Shack, Starbucks, Chex mix

Touch: nylon dance tights, cotton, half soles, lotion, hair, warmth, wood, socks, sharp, crisp air, sore, itch, slick, velvet, vaccination

Smell: snow, coffee, rosin, lip gloss, the laundry room, old books, Lady Victorian, Sharpie, nail polish, French bread, Wite Out, perfume, Febreze, peppermint, cotton

Hearing: Ira Glass, NPR, Fleetwood Mac, Carole King, Mary Lambert, Sia, Lana Del Rey, Mrs. Rosenberger’s voice, hair dryer, fan, Christopher’s cheers, the air purifier, protest, Dream On, violin

Sight: friends, political buttons, Lilly Pulitzer, collage, lipstick, belltower, cactus, succulent, Olaf, medication, lightbulb, the New Yorker, balcony, glare, sunflower

Action/Motion: cuddle, resist, stretch, Campus Walk, dance class, competition, recital, run, rush, turn sequence, pulse, pull, safe, tight, restraint

Abstractions: anxiety, apathy, resistance

Anything Else: Hillary Clinton, David Remnick, Liam, Wednesday, lyrical class, Old Town, spoons

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