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Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Day 5

For today’s prompt, we’ve actually got two prompts (that is, a Two-for-Tuesday prompt). Here we go:
  1. Write an experienced poem. Or…
  2. Write an inexperienced poem.
The word “experience” can be applied to a multitude of things and situations. Soo… there’s a lot of possibilities today!

19 comments :

  1. Okay I guess I'm taking this seriously. I wrote my poem even though I had other things I needed to do. Or maybe it's just procrastinating those things. Another not-kid poem. Woohoo. Maybe I am really an adult. And I even think this one has some potential even if it is a bit whiny.

    ARE YOU EXPERIENCED

    Are you Experienced
    comes on the radio. Jimi sings,
    I listen, look back at

    high school. Crackling 45s
    spun on my record player, so sure
    I was experienced.

    To go back to that girl,
    to be her, knowing what I know now.
    If I could, would I make

    equivalent mistakes?
    Likely not. Would I have made mistakes?
    Yes. I know that because

    I am experienced
    now, know this inane speculation
    is futile, I listen,

    Are you experienced?
    Have you ever been experienced?
    I have. Hendrix sings on.

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    Replies
    1. the ongoing question would we do the same knowing what we know now. or would we make new mistakes. I like framing it with the Hendricks song.

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    2. awesome! you really took me back with this one and the eternal question...is anyone every really experienced?

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  2. OKay finally caught up.

    The Novice Orphan

    I'd lost at love
    at money
    I'd lost at friendship
    and achievement of all sorts
    I'd lost bets,
    keys, cups of coffee
    by the dozens
    Lost my place in books
    lost my way in travels
    lost my breath while running.
    But when it came to
    loosing you Mom
    last of my parents
    I had nothing to go by,
    When we lost Dad
    it was you and I
    WE lost him.
    And now I have
    lost you as well.
    No sisters. No brothers
    to share it with.
    No preconceptions
    No idea what to expect.
    no experience
    no armor.

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    Replies
    1. I think I need a less pathetic ending. No sure where to go with it.

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    2. Wow. I was going to say I know how you feel but being one of five and a half siblings (a half brother who did not live with us), it was still "us" who lost our parents. But then there is that much more to lose too. Bonnie hasn't been writing because she's going into the hospital for a biopsy tomorrow and has been very sick.

      BTW, do you mean "losing you Mom" rather than "loosing"?

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    3. I also have brothers but I think we all felt somewhat the way you describe here, Mar. And when my Mom died, my daughter told her son how important it was for him to bond with his cousins since, as an only child, he would someday have to handle her death on his own - but cousins could help if they stayed close.

      As to the ending, I think it's enough for now - and I think if you let it just sit, more (or even less) will come to you.

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    4. wow! you really nailed this one! and I love the ending!

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  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    Replies
    1. My experience
      of my inexperience
      is a better teacher
      than my experience
      of my experience.

      However,
      I find
      that my inexperience
      will eventually
      lead to experience
      once I experience it.

      What's your experience?

      Tasha Halpert

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    2. LOL. And yes, I agree wholeheartedly, but I wouldn't want to try to read it out loud.

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    3. It's not too difficult if you take your time with it--or so I believe from my experience.

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    4. this was fun to read but I agree with Victoria... I wouldn't want to have to read it out loud :-)

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  4. Waves crash,
    Claiming souls.
    Black water leaps,
    An agile cat
    Eager to claim me.

    weight--
    Over my head.
    Jostling.
    Pressure.
    Black.

    Yet I wake up,
    An uncomfortable beach.
    Terrifying beauty
    Unthreatened tremors.
    Then calm.

    Thank the waves.
    Thank the beach discomfort.
    For without their experience,
    Calm would be nominal.

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    Replies
    1. I somehow missed this one. Looking back at all the days to see if there was anything I missed. I love "Black water leaps, / An agile cat / Eager to claim me."

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    2. really enjoyed the vivid and very visual imagery of this one.

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  5. Who's Experience?

    She tells me I'm wrong. Why?
    I don't agree with her point of view
    I have my own opinions and want
    to be heard and share ideas.

    But she will not listen
    talks over me - shouts
    calls me an idiot for not
    sharing her opinions.

    I tell her my views come
    my life experiences and hers
    from her own so we will
    never agree but why can't

    we discuss our thoughts like adults
    share our experiences and ideas
    but she doesn't hear me - doesn't listen
    shouts over me as only her experiences matter.

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    Replies
    1. I know some of these are not very good but I have been sick and am trying to catch up! please understand.

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  6. Well, this is a subject I want to pursue, so here's a start.

    (Experienced/inexperienced)

    I grew up knowing that I was
    just like my father, although I
    looked more like my mother’s
    sister, had her artist flair too.
    I was a reader, like my mother’s
    mother – actually, like most
    of the rest of her family, like
    my father and his father, too.
    I had the Tennant gift
    of language, the Eyers taste,
    Snow eyes, Jellison stubbornness.

    I identified traits in my own
    children that linked them
    to their ancestors, distant
    and close. By the time my third
    child was born, I knew what
    to expect of a Herrington
    child, complete with all
    the variations.

    The grandsons came. My daughter’s
    firstborn son was a mix of all
    my children, tempered by
    his dad’s musician temperament.
    And when my son’s son was born,
    it was deja vu all over again –
    it was mini-Ben, with a dash of Jack
    and a dollop of Kamora.

    And then Kamora adopted Isaiah;
    here was a grandson without
    a blueprint. What should we expect?
    The possibilities were endless!
    With no expectations, we could
    only watch him become himself –
    and yet, he’s more like his mother
    than his older brother was.


    ©Priscilla Anne Tennant Herrington

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