Day 8: Happy National Poetry Month!

Translation is an art in itself; it is the re-creative process of transforming the magic of one language into the magic of another.

—Kahlil Gibran

Recently I have jumped on the train of people watching Korean dramas. I never thought I could be so addicted to watching television with subtitles! It’s not that I’m a language snob, it’s just that I’m lazy.

And yet, here I am, watching one Korean drama on Netflix after another. There seems to be a never-ending supply of them. And they all tell compelling stories with humor and intelligence and empathy I can’t seem to find in most of the stuff coming out of Hollywood these days.

Recently I’ve been watching to the end so I can catch the translators’ names. I always say a quick thank you to these gods of language because without them I would never understand these beautiful stories I’ve fallen in love with.

I ran across the quote at the top of this post the other day and it got me started thinking about the art of translation. I wrote this (very) rough draft while thinking about translation. I will admit the image I used in the poem was more Japanese than Korean because I think it is beautiful the way Japanese writing falls from the top of the page instead of our bland left to right thing.

Don’t be surprised if you see this poem in my book of love poetry. Love comes in many forms and I definitely love that someone takes the time to translate beautiful things. A note, though, that it will probably take some editing for this one. I just wrote it and I’m not sure about the format, the rhyme or even some of the wording. And that last line seems sort of…bland.

Translation

By Michelle Garren-Flye

Words drip into my ear,

hang from an imagined sky,

but I am helpless to hear…

They are a mystery in my eye,

and I despair until you appear.

(I’m glad you didn’t miss my cry!)

Oh, draw your finger down the vine

of cryptic crosswords I cannot crack—

the codes of other worlds I want to find,

the loves of other dreams I cannot track.

Your key to this language is sublime—

my translator is the gift for which I thank.

Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 7: Happy National Poetry Month!

It’s 11:15 a.m. I have not written a poem to share. Nope. So I’m going to write one right now. Live…ish.

Excuse me a moment while I go find a prompt I like.

Oooh. Found one. On this website. Number 10. “Create a gallery of your heart. Take readers on a guided tour of what they might see there.” That immediately sparked my imagination. So here goes.

Heart Gallery

By Michelle Garren Flye

Watch your step, it’s showing its age

this old heart gallery of mine.

But really the cracks set the stage

and let the artwork shine!

Over here, memories of days gone—

you’ll see Mama’s picture set up high—

and the nest from which I’ve long since flown,

those who watched as I took to the sky.

Baby pictures, treasures—it may seem inane—

letters of old love, scraps of life on display…

Most of it appears designed to cause me pain—

the open book of my past I failed to file away.

I will not banish any of it from my trove,

because, above all, I feel only love.

It’s 11:45 a.m. I just finished the edits. It’s not bad. A sort of sonnet. What do you think?

Maybe I should’ve used the moon for a prompt? I’ve done it before, though.
Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 6: Happy National Poetry Month!

Sorry to be a bit late with this one, but I wrote it literally an hour ago. Had to let it sit for a bit to make sure it’s not too bad to share. I don’t think it is. What do you think?

Wanna?

By Michelle Garren-Flye

Warm sun burning skin,

wind’s touch cools, swirls sandy beach—

but I am not there.

Wanna come with me?

We’ll watch the waves crash ashore,

feel peace for a while.

Wait, though, I’m not sure…

Waves, wind, and sand are precious.

Do I wanna share?

More Beach Evening Primrose. Aren’t they just so pretty? Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye.

Day 5: Happy National Poetry Month!

Good morning! I’m feeling kinda good this morning because I did something last night that I haven’t in a while. Instead of firing up Netflix after my shower, I pulled out my computer…and wrote a poem.

It turned out pretty well, too.

I’m not going to share it here, though. Sorry. I’m not being coy, but I do want to save something for my book of love poetry, and this one fits.

However, I am going to share a poem. I write a haiku to post on the message board at my store (I own a bookstore). I write a haiku every month for that message board. Of course, they’re promoting reading/books, but it’s fun and keeps me in the 5-7-5 practice.

Anyway, I finished my April one a bit late this morning, and thought I’d share it here for my daily poetry post. It’s something a little different to keep things spicy! 🙂

Photo and Haiku copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 4: Happy National Poetry Month!

So I may have missed my mark by a few hundred years. I believe I belonged in the time of romantic poets. Shelley, Byron. Keats, Dickinson… Today’s successful poets write about social issues in a way I wish I could write. I’ve tried. It mostly (a few exceptions) ends up sounding trite.

But writing love poetry, romance, looking at the moon—that’s my jam, man. lol. (what decade am I actually living in?)

I wrote this little poem yesterday. It was much less good until I wrote it today. Now it’s much gooder. To give you an idea, this is the original ending:

I seek you when I fall asleep at night

but this poem will need a good rewrite.

I was definitely right about that. So here’s another one for my collection of love poetry that is yet to come:

Missing You

By Michelle Garren-Flye

I miss you when I look at the moon

and know you won’t be back soon.

I’ve made loneliness into an art

to which I have devoted my heart.

On the radio, I may hear a tune—

against your charm, I am not immune.

Oh, can’t you rescue me from this plight,

steal me away from all anger and fright?

This love is most inopportune,

painfully made and roughly hewn.

It pokes holes in my soul, leaves me

with a wish I wish most wantonly.

Yesterday’s primrose. Photo and poem copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 3: Happy National Poetry Month!

Today, we have a new poem.

But before we get to that, I saw a few of you joined my live yesterday. It was on my Instagram. It was sideways. Lol. My daughter reassured me that people could turn their phones if they wanted to watch it, so I did save it to my Instagram, so you can go check it out if you want. I was nervous. It was honest-to-god my first-ever live. I’ve posted videos before, but I can stop and redo those if I mess up or whatever. This one’s got me fumbling for words and misreading and everything. All in five minutes! What entertainment.

Anyway, I haven’t gotten any actual questions about poetry to answer yet, so I probably won’t do another live until next Sunday unless something comes up before that I think would make more sense to answer live than here on my blog.

And now, a poem! I actually wrote a poem I kind of like! This morning!

(I’m a bit excited.)

It’s about a primrose.

No, really. A primrose. I took a picture of a Beach Evening Primrose this morning and it turned out super good. Plus, a friend sent me a poetry prompt last night from another poet/writing coach who suggested that we find something in nature that inspires us and write a poem about it. I intend to post this picture with the poem on Instagram and tag her to see what she thinks, hopefully. Her name is Ann Kroeker. She wrote a really nice poem about a pinecone. You should look her up.

Poem and photo copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Day 1: Happy National Poetry Month!

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.

Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

A love poem for Valentine’s Day

When I set out to write love poetry, I knew I’d have to find a different angle for it. I am still working on that, and I may have taken it to the extreme with this one. Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day!

Poem and illustration copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Poem: Echoes in a Fangirl Heart

Confession time. I am and always have been a fangirl. It has taken various forms over time. Some things have stuck, others have worn off, and some have…grown. For instance, my current obsession with K-Pop has expanded from one or two groups and styles to multiple. As long as I don’t understand more than half of what they say, I’m in. (LOL, it’s not really based on the language, but you get my drift.) Oh, and K-Dramas, too. I’m actually picking up a bit of the Korean language now…thanks to all the subtitles.

I became a fan of David Bowie early in my life thanks to my older brother and Major Tom. Space Oddity actually came out several months before I was even born, but I remember my brother playing it on the jukebox at our local Pizza Hut. I was maybe five or six years old at the time but I remember listening and dancing next to the table with my little brother.

In 1977 I distinctly remember watching the Bing Crosby Christmas special where he sang “Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy” with Bowie. I was seven years old and had no idea that what I was witnessing was a miracle of negotiation and compromise between two diametrically opposite human beings. I also remember the debut of Bowie’s “Heroes” music video during the commercial break. Again, I was too young to fully comprehend the importance of that music video debuting at that time when people like my parents were the audience, but I now feel certain that bit of strategic marketing contributed heavily to Bowie’s career.

Bowie songs came and went and got stuck in my head over the years. I really became a true fangirl in 1986 when I saw Labyrinth. I fell head over heels in love with Bowie’s mysterious, sinister portrayal of the regal Jareth, but the songs were what captivated me. “Underground” in particular. I fairly ran to the store to snatch up the cassette tape, lol. And I was done for after that. A fangirl of Bowie’s for life.

The obsession faded, of course. I was distracted by other 80s hair bands like Bon Jovi and Ratt for a time. I even fangirled over them a bit. As an adult, I had a beach music/Jimmy Buffett phase. But I still listened to Bowie. And then the word came that he had died.

That news hit me pretty hard. I’d never really gotten over Bowie. In fact, although I hadn’t listened to him regularly in a long time, I immediately pulled out all my old Bowie music, downloaded even more and spent more than a year listening to him exclusively.

Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of Bowie’s death. I saw all sorts of tributes to him on the internet. I heard his songs again, sometimes just playing on repeat in my head and echoing in my heart. And I wrote a little something. Because, I guess, that’s what fangirls do.

Echoes in a Fangirl Heart

By Michelle Garren-Flye

Hello, Starman.

Where have you been?

Admiring the sky I caught sight

of you quite by accident,

pale shadow.

Welcome back, Hero.

Where did you go?

The sun came up, the curtain fell…

I never gave up though,

Astronaut.

Insane lads leave me distraught…

How come they can’t be caught?

Image distorted, I can’t see your face,

going against all I was taught…

…Alien.

Greetings, my long-lost friend.

Just on the other side of the moon

is where I find you now,

even though it all ends too soon,

Spaceboy.

Full moon at sunset. Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye Copyright 2023 Michelle Garren-Flye

Winter Solstice reflections about life in the light

Yesterday was an important day that often goes unnoticed. In the Northern Hemisphere, it was the darkest day of the year. Winter Solstice.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved the idea of the Winter Solstice. I remember my mother always marked it. She was one of those people whose mood is affected by the light. The darkness of winter depressed her, so the Winter Solstice was a time of change for the good. Because every day after would be brighter. The days are getting longer now, she’d say in the hopeful voice I loved to hear.

Yesterday was a good day for me. I almost forgot it was the shortest day of the year because it seemed bright. Good news, new music, a great day at my store and time with my kids…when I looked at my watch and saw it was almost time for the solstice, though, I knew I needed to mark it. Because every chance I get to make things brighter, I need to take it.

So at 4:48 p.m. I lit a candle. I burned it until midnight and I tried to picture my life…brighter. I came up with two resolutions.

I will hope without reason.

I will love without expectation.

I think if I can hold onto these two resolutions, I can live a brighter life. Too often we wait for life to give us a reason to hope. If we can just hold hope in our hearts, we can live in the light more often. I don’t know what you hope for. I’m sometimes not even certain what I hope for. But I know without hope for something, we might as well curl up and die. So hope.

And loving without expectation is something we all struggle with, I think. I’ve always found it easy to love…things, people, places, pets, food. But in loving, I too often expect something in return. I have a plan in mind for my love, a path it should follow, rewards I should get in return for it, whatever. But I don’t control the object of my love, so I cannot control the results of my love and am often disappointed. Love itself has to be the reward, and if I can achieve that, I will surely live brightly.

I’m sure these two resolutions are not unique. Buddha or Gandhi probably came up with them long ago. Perhaps this is what they tried to teach me in Sunday School when I was a child. Is this what faith is? Or is it just the ramblings of a middle-aged would-be poet? You decide. It won’t matter to me. I’ll be over here hoping for a brighter future and loving you.

I’ll be in the light if you’d like to join me.

candle

Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye Copyright 2022