Reflection: #the100dayproject

The last 100 days have been an interesting exercise in focus, excitement, and perseverance. Throughout the time, there have been days that I wake up scrambling for a pen and paper to write a poem and other days where I didn't even want be in the same room as a pen. Regardless, I sat my butt down everyday and wrote and it has made me learn a couple of things about writing and about myself.

I learned I can actually do it, I can write everyday. I learned that all of that writing doesn't need to even make any sense and it doesn't have to be perfect; I just need to write something down. I learned to keep a notebook on my nightstand, in my car and in my lunch bag. I learned to stop wasting time on things like Instagram for posting my poems and to just post on this blog which takes less set up.

Positive things out of the experience:

1. I've realized I'm happier and more satisfied if I write everyday, even if I don't feel like writing. If I write every day, I don't have that nagging and guilty feeling that I'm not doing what makes me happy.

2. I rarely got on Facebook in the last 100 days because I had better things to do like...write.

3. I have 100 poems to revise or turn into new poems or use as raw material for other projects.

4. I have filled 3 notebooks up of other raw material that can be used for other poems later down the line.

5. I read more poetry in the last 100 days in response to me writing more poetry. I used other's poetry as inspiration and it ended up being a positive synergy. All of this has made me feel more in tune to the poetry community as a whole and I feel generally more positive that poetry is becoming more accessible and widespread than in any other time in history.

6. I've realized what I'm capable of. I can write a lot of material if I put my mind to it and show up to the page. I just have to make the time and space for poetry and writing in my life. Most of my poems were written in 30 minutes or less.

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Negative things out of the experience:

1. I played catch up quite a few times. Life got in the way, but I want to try harder and make poetry a daily practice.

2. I get frustrated because so many ideas come at the strike me at the worse times, either while I'm driving or doing something that I can't stop and write it out. The most frustrating thing in a writing life is the loss of something good or something that could have been good, if you had the time to let it grow. It can be heartbreaking and at times depressing to know that something good slipped through my fingers. What would the idea have turned into, if I'd had space to piece it together? Too many what ifs and forgotten puzzles.

3. The shear amount of poems that I've written during this project is overwhelming and I need a 100 day project of revision, where I revise a poem every day. But as a small remedy, I decided to make 2 lists: 3 poems that I wrote that surprised me; Top 5 poems.

5 poems that I had a lot of fun writing:

1. Electric
2. Portrait of Minnette (removed for submissions)
3. Shape
4. A plan for every poem
5. The Age of Distraction

Top 5 poems:

1. Mourning
2. Black Hills Gold (removed for submissions)
3. Ascent (removed for submissions)
4. Janitoress 
5. Solanaceae

A couple of notable pieces:

1. Litter
2. Prismatic
3. Finite

Poem: Seraphim #the100dayproject Day 100

Seraphim

The fire flies are out and the air heavy with summer. 

The trees silhouette against the bruising sky. Still 

there’s so much light at night, I don’t need their fire. 

I want them in winter, when the nights start too soon, 

stretch outward like a tar road, a blackened tongue, 

when the sharp frost numbs the scent of earth and rain. 

I need them to light my way through that bitter cold 

to beacon like stars even when the sky is fleeced with snow. 

Poem: Reciprocity #the100dayproject Day 99

Today is day 99, tomorrow is the final day of #the100dayproject. This is my 99th poem in the last 99 days. It's been very interesting. Below you'll find a twisted conversation between a poem and myself.

Reciprocity 

Poem asks, “Would you like some wine, whiskey or bourbon? 

I say, “I have roots that grow into places you haunt.” 

Poem says, “Come in and try the brie and crackers. Each bite 

is a word, a consumption; food changes you. 

And in your different skin, I will cut your hair for you, 

dye it lemon yellow. You’ll blend in with the butter. 

I candied violets to put behind your ear. 

I say, “You speak like a confection; an edible purpose. 

To letting go, like pitted olives, the oval and hole. 

Words better fit to be touched to the lips. 

Poem says, “Your heart has four chambers, each one 

decorated to a theme you’ve lived by for years. 

Change is not your forte. Some cultures consider it a dessert, 

whereas some drink it as an ocean.  

Whereas you consider it bitter like a walnut,  

that gets sweeter the longer you keep it on your tongue. 

Poem: I am Woman #the100dayproject Day 98

I am Woman 

I suppose my faith is taken lying down 

missionary pose, hands bound together in prayer, 

strung with red leather string. I drop my blood like an offering. 

To whom? All I know is this ritual is all for myself. 

All faith is ritual onto self. I pray for myself onto others. 

I give my thoughts to them as if I were omnipresent, 

powerful enough to change into God himself, channel him. 

I am no conduit, but in my faith I pray to pretend my body divine. 

My faith written in my half-moon cycle.  

My blood marks the mundane into sacred. My body the only ritual. 

My curves, my breasts, my blood, my lips, move into a circle. 

I am the only ritual that requires no dried old men 

chanting into their cloisters of stone, their empty temples. 

My ritual smells of wet earth and tastes like coffee grounds. 

My ritual sings om, om, om, om. The sacred rhythm, 

the heart beating, the blood pulsing, the ecstasy, the om. 

Poem: Risen #the100dayproject Day 97

Risen 

be 

wild 

be 

round 

slow up 

slit candles  

rising  

from the soot 

fingerprints 

your crater’s  

warm light 

pouring up 

red lantern 

this moon rise 

this cimarron, 

glow above 

your kingdom.