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"New Morning Greetings from Another Planet Far Away," a new American Sonnet, with a poetic workshop introduction
How One Can Write New Poetry
Each Day Responding Honestly
with Realism Running Free
without Obstructing Creativity
1. Today we all receive
some e-mail correspondence
that either makes us happy, or
our feeling more despondence:
some from our friends,
admirers, neighbors, or
perhaps our erstwhile lovers,
desiring just to back us off,
or get us back beneath their covers;
and some from less-than-welcome
past-due silly-bill collectors,
who love to keep reminding us
that we are dead-beat debtors.
2. Today my present passion peaks for me
to put rhy-thm with rhyme that matters,
and tries to put Shakespeare and company
in tasteful torment if not tatters.
To even try to write one play like mighty Shakespeare wrote a play,
however, can't be done by playing week-end pitter-patters,
but must consume the uninvited interloper night and day,
rich realism richly stacked upon his picnic platters.
So why, I ask myself about myself, should I
not learn from his concrete examples,
and use real reasons from real life to magnify
my own creative concrete samples?
3. Today my morning e-mail came from one
more frequently despairing,
who recently disliked my stint as one
I've found it can back-fire in such a clear-cut case
to return one's opinions back too strongly,
or try to ascertain if from that other person's space,
the writing has been written right or wrongly.
But wisely poetry allows us to respect
the good, the bad, the smugly,
without our wasting or reducing its effect,
or getting down and ugly.
4. Today each piece of e-mail correspondence shows a way
that neither poses, nor pretends, nor sounds too pro-gram-mat-ic,
but seeks un-tram-meled, honestly real poetry each day
that dares to be discrete and dil-i-gent-ly di-plo-mat-ic.
New Morning Greetings from
Another Planet Far Away
A New A-mer-i-can Son-net
to My Be-lov-ed Cor-res-pond-ent
Dear one, you can concoct more dire scenarios . . . than fans at race-car rodeos,
and more unpleasant possibilities . . . without a single sob or sneeze
than anyone I've met on seven seas . . . conspiring with the summer breeze,
or anyone from whom I get the keys . . . when I say "please!" down on my knees.
But if, dear one, it works for you . . . to daily eat fresh fitful fish,
then I, for one, will wish you catch . . . one daily fistful as you wish.
My own days now, and even my deep midnight dreams,
burnish my cup with boundless blessings, so it seems,
too rich to recount or to list in my e-mails,
much less to write about in delicate details,
for as you recently have pointed out in your reports,
my detailed letters easily can put you out of sorts.
I wish no harm to you, dear one, and nothing else to tell,
but this great day today for you, and love to you as well.
A Final Note
I hope you like the workshop and the fresh new poetry.
Please leave your comments here below on anything you see
on any issue relevant to daily working poetry.
October 22, 2013
Copyright (c) 2013 by The Max Havlick School, Villa Park, Illinois 60181-1938,
now reading Shakespeare's early Richard plays and sonnets,
and also reading Matthew's seminar sometimes on Sundays.