Tag: poem

Joy for What I Learned

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The prompt from NapoWriMo for Day 22 took me back to a time when I learned to play the flute.

Having come from a rural one-room schoolhouse with few resources and moving to a small town highschool as a 7th grader, I arrived without any musical background. The kids at the “city” school started music in 5th grade, so my band director (if only I remembered his name) was kind enough to try to bring me up to speed along with another student who learned the French Horn! That band director surely has received his reward in heaven!

Poet with Flute Serenading the Moon

In any case, below is the prompt and my poem for Day 22 of the poem-a-day challenge, “Joy for What I Learned.”

Also, I highly recommend you read Diane Wakoski’s poem that is embedded within the prompt, too.  It is lovely!

Prompt: “In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.”

Joy for What I Learned

In gratitude for having learned to play the notes on this silver

miracle, a tube with keys & springs & holes—a flute.   

My notes carry on the wind, reach the wren & chickadee who join

in when I play my tunes.  Pastoral silver sound travels far to

neighbors ‘round & curious avians who dip and flutter. When my

lips pull embouchure & fingers tap the keys just right, trills like

crystal ring the air.  Up and down the scales, a half century or

more, still bringing joy to me and the birds above. When my breath &

fingers bring to life the anthem of Ukraine, I send sound waves on

prayers across the seas to the other side of the world.

                        Jacquelyn Markham ©2025 (April 22)

You can listen to the Ukrainian anthem and download the flute sheet music (courtesy of flutetunes.com)

And below, a moving rendition of the Ukrainian National Anthem by students at Berklee College of Music.

Those Lonesome Fishing Boats

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Day 16, Poem-a-Day Challenge (a poem after Blue Bayou)

Here’s the prompt: Today’s prompt asks us to “imagine music in the context of a place, but more along the lines of a soundtrack laid on top of the location, rather than just natural sounds. Today, try writing a poem that similarly imposes a particular song on a place. Describe the interaction between the place and the music using references to a plant and, if possible, incorporate a quotation – bonus points for using a piece of everyday, overheard language.”

You can visit Napowrimo, Day 16, to learn more details. Meanwhile, here’s my poem, under the wire on Day 16 of the poem-a-day challenge for National Poetry Month, 2025!

Lime Lake, Michigan

Those Lonesome Fishing Boats

after Blue Bayou

On the green Lime Lake

where the lonesome fishing boats

slap the long low dock

while the clear waves wash

the flat grey stones. I’m pining

for a boy back home, carve initials

in the white birch trunk to

keep that southern boy of mine

in my heart near the limestone lake.

The clear spring lake, where my grandpa

built in his overalls and my grandma

dreamed in her pillbox hat &

I was lonesome all of the time

‘cause I left my baby behind.

White birch bark curled into delicate boats

like the Natives’ boats, when they

waited to get back home, a canoe

filled with fish, silver in the sun.

They were lonesome all of the time.

Shallow green, quiet waves,

rustling trees, sandy bottom rises

with our steps and fishing boats

slap against the long dock

in a rhythm with the voices

of my family in the distance, and

the smell of campfire smoke.

I’m going back some day

come what may to

the memories of the clear

Lime Lake and the White Birch bark

where I carved my baby’s name

since I left my baby behind.

Birch bark grown, covers over

my baby’s name now. Oh, some

sweet day, gonna take away

this hurting inside.

I’m going back some day

to the green Lime Lake.

Jacquelyn Markham ©4/16/2025

Image courtesy of pixy.org

Thank you for visiting Poet Voice @jacquelynmarkham.com

Why I am Not an Accountant

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My Triolet on Day 1 asks “where does the time go?” and we only wish we had the answer to that question. But, time does move on and our mighty leader Maureen Thorson at NaPoWriMo gives us our prompt for day 3.

She writes: “Time keeps marching on, and so does Na/GloPoWriMo. And so, lo and behold, we find ourselves three days into our poem-a-day challenge. . . and here’s the optional prompt:

Following O’Hara, today we challenge you to write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist – or, if you think of yourself as more of a musician or painter (or school bus driver or scuba diver or expert on medieval Maltese banking) – explain why you are that and not something else!

Check out the poem O’Hara wrote Why I Am Not a Painter as you muse upon why you are a poet (if you are) or another kind of artist as above. Now, this one is a HUGE challenge! We must do some deep diving within.

So, my poem turned out this way as I contemplated why I am not an accountant, but instead, a poet.

Grapefruit on the Table, watercolor by the poet

Why I am Not an Accountant

I look at grapefruit & sunflowers on the table &

see constellations of stars from the button-center blooms.

I think about what goes unsaid & see cars

in a junkyard that started with an old Buick in1956.

I dream up rhymes about a naiad rising

from the rippling moon & how she made a sad &

broody lad glad on a most mad & moonly night.

I move back into memory starting with 25:

25.       It was only 25 years ago the world split open

24.       when it did, words spilled

23.        from mouths like blood.

And end with lines about my birth.

2.         Thankfully, I still remember

1.         the joy of being born.

                                    Jacquelyn Markham (April 3, 2025)

It’s April & so begins 2025 National Poetry Month!

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In the same way that Earth Day is everyday, poetry month is every month. Still, we do some extra special things in April, like attempt to write a poem a day and sometimes we use prompts from those who encourage us along the way!

Azaleas in bloom on April 1!

There are several sites who encourage us this way, and my favorite is: NaPoWriMo

Here’s what the guru behind NaPoWriMo had to say today on the start of the challenge:

Happy Tuesday, all, and Happy April 1. Today marks the start of another National/Global Poetry Writing Month!

“If it’s your first time joining us, the process is quite simple. Just write a poem every day during the month of April. 30 days means 30 poems. We’ll have an optional prompt every day to help you along, as well as a resource. We’ll also be featuring a participant each day. And if you’re interested in looking at other people’s poems, sharing links to your daily efforts, and/or cheering along, a great way to do that is by clicking on the title of each day’s post. That will take you to a page with a comment section for the day.” (Maureen)

I enjoyed the prompt for today found here: April 1 prompt:

I found a musical term that was new to me: the Rescue Opera, defined on the Naxos.com website like this: “The term ‘rescue opera’ has been used to describe operas such as Beethoven’s Fidelio, dealing with the subject of rescue, particularly, after 1789, from political victimisation.”

I think it an extraordinary time to write a poem about rescuing people from political victimisation. So, I have made note of it and will circle back around. In the meantime, I offer a triolet (one of my favorite forms because it is only 8 lines). Not to be fooled, however, (even tho it is April Fools Day) as it is not as simple as it seems with two refrains and two rhyme schemes. Here the Academy of American Poets defines the form for you: Triolet. It is a short poem with two refrains which gives it a kind of song-like rhythm and in fact is related to the rondeau.

So, because my time was short today on day 1, I’m sharing my Triolet and holding on to that first prompt for another day.

Enjoy your month of April as time does fly!

Time: A Triolet

Where does the time go?

I can certainly fritter it away!

If I knew the answer would I show

where does the time go?

Or, would I stop the clock or make it slow?

As if by doing that I could hold the day.

Where does the time go?

I can certainly fritter it away.

Jacquelyn Markham (c.2025)