Day 1: Happy National Poetry Month!

Posted on April 1, 2023 by Michelle Garren-Flye

It’s National Poetry Month and I have no idea what to do with it. I’ve come at this for the past few years with a real plan. Haiku, renga, a poem a day.

I’m clueless. I’m clueless because I’ve been fighting writer’s block since my mother passed away. I miss her so much and the last decent poem I wrote was a goodbye to her written a few days before her death because I knew it was coming.

I’m not saying this because I want you to feel sorry for me. I’m just saying it because I truly don’t know what to do this time around. I was in the midst of writing love poems, which was really kind of fun, but now I’m stuck. It’s hard to write about love when the person who probably loved you the most in this world is no longer in it. And I’ve written enough morose stuff. I won’t go back to that but that’s where my heart is right now.

So… This National Poetry Month is a bit different. For me. For anyone who wants to follow, I’ll be doing a bit of everything from live poetry readings on Instagram (I’ll announce when on here) to posting whatever I’ve managed to write that day. Today I’m posting a thought and a picture I took yesterday. I’m already planning a short live poetry reading tomorrow morning at 11 a.m. EST. If you have any questions you want to ask me about poetry, send me an email to mgflye (at) yahoo.com or just comment here.

Hello

Posted on March 25, 2023 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I won’t lie. That’s a hard word to say sometimes.

I wish I lived in a culture that used the same word to mean both hello and goodbye. It’d make it easier, wouldn’t it?

I’m saying hello now because the last post I made was Goodbye. And it was me saying goodbye to my mother. More than a month ago. Saying goodbye sucks. When my kids leave to go back to their own lives. When I hang up the phone with my father now. When a friend I’ve waited a long time to see leaves again. I hate that word. That strangely cheerful sounding, heart-wrenching, chillingly lonely word.

Goodbye.

And yet, having said goodbye to the woman I loved most in this world, somehow it’s been even harder to say hello again to all of you. Maybe it’s because it feels like everything I say echoes in a hollow space. (As a poet, I appreciate that hello and hollow rhyme so well…) But I’m saying hello now because I know there is more to be done here. I have plans for National Poetry Month in April that include this blog. So I will say the word that, strangely, begins with a syllable that describes where I sometimes feel I am stuck.

Hello.

Two words, so very different in construction, not at all alike in sound,

So very difficult to say.

Hello

By Michelle Garren Flye

A whisper of a word over an abandoned grave—

soft breezes blow spring grasses around

and I am searching for redemption.

Courage, the wind whispers, try to be brave,

don’t hesitate, reach for the crown

and your place in life with strengthen.

But in the end, I am naught but a slave,

helpless and a bit of a letdown—

even if I have your attention.

Hello is too much, I can’t do it, I say,

my face marked by an anguished frown,

Goodbye hurt too much; hello is no fun.

Hello, from me. Sometimes I forget to smile. 🙂 Selfie by Michelle Garren-Flye.

National Poetry Month, Day 30, Verse 30

Posted on April 30, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

And so we have rushed, headlong, to the end. The end of April, the end of the beginning of spring, the end of National Poetry Month, and the end of my renga.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my life up to this point. I should definitely be past the beginning of spring. Well established in my, ahem, fifties, however, I’m not certain if I ever had one.

This year, this project forced me to look closely at the spring that was not just happening, but living and breathing all around me. I saw how the flowers bloomed, how they started as tiny buds, but because they knew from the beginning what they were supposed to do, they just did it without question. They spread petals, inviting the visits of pollinators and the gentle brush of spring breeze to spread the pollen that not only makes us sneeze but also carries their DNA to another willing recipient.

The flowers do this because they know what they are meant for. As human beings, we question. We doubt our talents and our abilities and our purpose. This leads to anger and resentment and despair. Most of us never fully experience our spring and are therefore not ready for summer because we’re stuck in that thawing stage at the beginning, unable to fully realize our potential because we just don’t believe.

(As an example, I’m doubting these words even as I write them.)

It’s a difficult thing believing in yourself. Going all in for what you want to do and be. More and more I’m trying to do that. Maybe even at this point in my life, it’s not too late for spring.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month, Day 29, Verse 29

Posted on April 29, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

Ever considered doing something kinda nuts (nuts just because it’s totally out of character for you, not like dangerous or anything)? I feel like I’ve spent most of my life rushing headlong toward the end and now I want to put on the brakes and just enjoy. I might get whiplash if I put them on too hard, though, so I’m still hesitating. Hesitating while rushing onward.

National Poetry Month, Day 28, Verse 28

Posted on April 28, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

On Saturday I actually give a fairly long speech about the history of poet laureates. I’m a bit nervous, not to mention ambivalent about closing my store for a couple of hours to do it. But it’s the last day of National Poetry Month, and I’m discovering I actually like public speaking once I get past the scary moment at the beginning—and if I am fully prepared with a written speech that I’ve read out loud several hundred times. This was an interesting one, too. I had to do a lot of research since I didn’t know that much about poet laureates (I had some idea that it came from Greece because of the whole “laurel” thing). What I found was equal parts interesting, amusing, and inspiring. If I wrote the speech right, maybe it’ll come out that way for my audience.

In the meantime, my spring renga is rushing to its close.

National Poetry Month, Day 27, Verse 27

Posted on April 27, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

No real thoughts today except that I do think my artistic skills are improving lol. This rose, compared to the rose in verse 19, is far better. And the rose in verse 19 is better than the ones I drew in 100 Warm Days of Haiku. Most of them, anyway. Hopefully my art will improve along with my writing. We’ll see. That is always my ambition, at any rate. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written the greatest poem ever only to read it a week later and think, god, what garbage…

I guess I did have a thought or two.

National Poetry Month, Day 26, Verse 26

Posted on April 26, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

The other day I ran across a quote from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. “‘Tis always morning somewhere, and above/The awakening continents, from shore to shore,/Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.”

I love poetry. (I might have mentioned that.) But mostly I love poetry that speaks to me at a certain time in my life. I think that’s because poetry is meant to reach inside you and pluck at your soul. I think that’s our job as poets. We aren’t lovers. We don’t play heartstrings. We play soulstrings. This particular quote spoke to me. I hope you find something today that speaks to you.

National Poetry Month, Day 25, Verse 25

Posted on April 25, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I think this is the fourth year in a row that I’ve done some sort of self-inflicted poetry challenge on here. Every year, I wonder why. Why do I want to add one more thing to my to-do list?

This year, my focus (that word again) has shifted a little internally. Why do I almost always only write poetry with illustrations now? This renga is a perfect example of how it might be easier to just write the poem. By the time I’ve moved on to the next verse, I’ve forgotten what was in the one before.

But this verse is an illustration of what I love about writing illustrated poetry. Poetry is everywhere. Even in a tiny blade of blooming grass.

National Poetry Month, Day 24, Verse 24

Posted on April 24, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

Less than a week to go. It seems like just yesterday I was struggling to draw ice. lol. I mean, if I tried again, it would still be hard. But I did it once, so…

Once this is done, I’ll be putting together my poetry book. There are still a few illustrations to be done, possibly a few poems yet to be written, but I’m hoping to get that taken care of next month. Maybe I can even have the book out by the beginning of June. Mid June? I wonder how far my hypercreativity can carry me.

National Poetry Month, Day 23, Verse 23

Posted on April 23, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I’m better at capturing flora than fauna, so the little critter in this one caught me off guard. I didn’t even notice him until I started drawing. He seemed perfect for this spot in the renga, though. One of those “happy accidents” that happens sometimes.