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NaPoWriMo Writing Prompt for April 11, 2017

April 10, 2017

DAY 11  – NaPoWriMo Prompt for  Tuesday, April 11, 2017

“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?”

Emily Dickinson

Welcome to the 11th day of NaPoWriMo.  It’s never too late to join the NaPoWriMo challenge.  Enjoy.

Prompt 11 for NaPoWriMo

Take a poem you admire by a famous poet and re-write it.  Pay homage to its style, honor its theme, its tone but don’t just write a parody of the original poem – honor it.  Tell us what the poem is.

 

“If I had my life to live over again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week.”

Charles Darwin

 

Here’s the poem I wrote to the 9th Prompt which was NOT suggested by Brendan McBreen…but rather my own suggestion which was to write a denial poem.

 

Not a ‘To Tell The Truth’ Poem

By Christopher J. Jarmick

It would be easy to convince you

it wasn’t true;

too many coincidences.,

How does it happen

that two people could be in

the same place,

doing almost the same thing

at the same time

and not have met each other

or even known each other?

I could tell you about most of the people

I saw in the large night club that night,

but not everyone.

There was lots of noise,

dark corners,

so it would seem believable,

plausible,

that we never saw each

other.

We probably did bump into

each other,

might have even mumbled

excuse me to each other,

but we didn’t look at each other,

didn’t realize we had met.

So maybe subconsciously,

I thought there was something

familiar about the woman at the coffee shop

a few days later.

I noticed her.

I didn’t talk to her.

But a few days later

at the grocery store

I did see her, did talk to her,

and we decided to have a cup of coffee

and talk.

She thought I was familiar too.

It was her friend, several weeks later,

who insisted the first time we met

was when we bumped into each other

at the night club.

She said she saw it,

but we didn’t remember this at all.

It happened, said the friend,

before the fight broke out,

And didn’t I have something to do

with that fight?

We denied seeing each other in the nightclub,

I denied having anything to do with the fight.

But the friend was sure

I was like most men,

a liar.

And maybe a seed of doubt

was planted

about who I was,

that doomed the new relationship,

I won’t ever know.

 

Keep Writing!

Emily Dickinson

emily dickinson 1848 pd wiki

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