I’m way behind with NaPoWriMo, but I thought I’d jump in and get my feet wet again anyway. I wasn’t too thrilled with the prompt for today, so I went back to yesterday’s prompt. It was to write an Erasure poem. The process involves taking a poem or some other text that has already been written and begin erasing words, but leaving the remaining words in the same order as they appear in the original. Then put those remaining words together (still in the same order), creating a brand new poem.
I actually did the experiment twice. Both times I used a poem I had written in the past. The first piece “Yellow” turned out to offer a light, rather lilting new poem, but it’s just a little quirky and requires a new title and new picture to fit the change.
The second piece “Snowchild,” amazingly allowed me to erase a whole bunch of words, yet say exactly the same thing in the new poem that I had said in the original. Wow. That surprised me a little because I erased a LOT of words.
Hope you enjoy both experiments.
YELLOW (Original poem)
Yellow sun, yellow moon,
Yellow ribbon on yellow balloon;
Yellow crayons for coloring,
Yellow bird that chirps and sings.
Yellow squash ripe on the vine,
Yellow daffodils — all mine.
Yellow hair, with cheeks so pink,
Yellow lemonade to drink;
Yellow duckies, yellow chicks,
Yellow grapefruit freshly picked;
Yellow butter drips and drops
From tender, yellow corn-on-cob.
Yellow curtains, crisp and bright,
Yellow anti-bug porch light;
But yellow has its ugly side:
Yellow fever; could have died;
Yellow-bellied, yellow streak,
Yellow-livered, backbone weak.
And sometimes yellow can’t be seen:
It hides in blue and turns to green.
YELLOW (Erasure Version)
New Title: “Getting the Green Light”
bird that chirps and sings.
lemonade to drink.
turns to green.
SNOWCHILD (Original Poem)
When I was a child, I thought as a child,
And snow was a thing so delightful.
From school we were free; we got wet to the knees,
And our mom’s day was thrown all off schedule.
But now that I’m grown, I must do on my own
All the chores Mom and Dad used to dread:
Stock up food by the loads, drive on slippery roads,
Shovel snow, and repair that old sled.
Now I look with dismay at the skies leaden gray
As I trudge to the store for supplies.
De-icer and salt sell out fast with no halt.
I need new boots to tread on the ice.
The wind from the north is bitter and harsh,
But my temperature, still it is rising;
I am in a foul mood, for I see nothing good
That can come from a snowstorm arriving.
But then the flakes start, and I feel in my heart –
Watching white, fluffy, wonderful, wild
Filling all of my world with such beauty unfurled –
That in truth I am still just a child!
SNOWCHILD (Erasure Version)
(No new title necessary)
I was a child;
snow was delightful.
Now I’m grown;
I see nothing good
from a snowstorm.
Flakes start, and in my heart,
I am still a child!