Poetry is a Sharp Match

This post talks about an automatic metaphor generator I created, which led to this metaphor, poetry is a sharp match, which led to this poem.

Photo by Matt Seymour on Unsplash

poetry is a sharp match

and like me, you might find it necessary sometimes
to lean in and feel the warmth of images struck
against the day’s cold stone, or, when metaphors
sprinkle tinder on your smoldering soul,
you might blow it softly back to flame.
Huddled around a flickering poem, we might find ourselves
warming our faces, shoulders touching, hands outstretched,
our backs turned against the cold. Basking,
we might forget that
poetry cuts, too, like a knife
through the ropes that bind,
like a sword.

— Steve Peterson

joy is a tall tree

I’m still playing with the homemade metaphor generator that I talked about in the last post. In this post, I used Taylor Mali’s suggestion to continue the metaphor with the phrase, “which is to say.”

Photo: Steve Peterson

joy is      a     tall tree
which is to say

a tree         doesn’t     grow     overnight,
and
the     best things            take     time,
and
while     a forest     is
large
and         often     beautiful,
you can
lose     your     tree
inside     it

How To Spot an Agate

photo by Steve Peterson

I sat down to read Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s (@amylvpoemfarm) terrific new book, Poems are Teachers, for inspiration for my teaching. As it happened, inspiration found me, first.

As I read, I savored teacher-poet, Mary Lee Hahn’s (@MaryLeeHahn) poem, “Riches”, and remembered an ongoing conversation I’ve had with one of the kids in my class this year, someone who appreciates agates and cool rocks at least as much as I do.

@MaryLeeHahn

Here’s what came of all of that: a reminder to slow down and gather with small stones.

How to Spot an Agate

First, you must find a place
Where the small stones gather.

Look to the beach
Where restless waves rock.

Go to the roadside
Where tires rarely tread.

Or, if courageous, to the graveled center,
Where hither ignores yon.

Then sit. Plant yourself, as if a tree.
And open your eyes.

Adjust your gaze.
Look past all shapes.

Look beyond every color.
Catch the glint, instead,

The brilliant shaft,
A moment’s reflection.

That jeweled spark?
That is what you seek.

Reach out.
Hold it to the light.

– Steve Peterson