Ode to Writers Everywhere

/ roughwighting

http://thebarking.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/letter_writi_24714_md.gifThe Writing Instructor

The refrigerator hums like a turtle in a small trickling stream. Soft, contented, but with a slight hiccup now and then.

I try to ignore the soothing hum and continue to talk on, too loud at times, but there’s a cougher in the group, and I don’t want my words drowned out.

What an expression: how can words drown? Well, I guess the same way my ideas seem to drown at times. When I’m trying so hard to express myself, I get intense, yet I see a dazed expression on my listeners’ faces, so it must be me, my words, that are drowning them in boredom.

Oh shoot, am I boring? I stop the conversation mid-stream, and no one seems to notice. If a smallhttp://naturespicwallpaper.com/best-waterfall-original-oil-on-canvas-nature-wallpaper-free-download/ waterfall suddenly stopped in the middle of Yosemite, you’d think those around would notice. The hikers and bikers, the park rangers and sightseers would shout out: “What in the world?”

But no shouts of concern from my listeners when I shut my mouth and halt my waterfall of a fascinating story about writing. Well, I have been told that my stories can go on and on, and on, for paragraphs when they could be just a sentence or two.

So I order them to practice what I have just preached about Cinquains.

Adelaide Crapsey, poetry, cinquain

A 5-line poem, invented by the early 20th century poet Adelaide Crapsey and inspired by the Japanese tanka, with 22 syllables arranged in a distinct pattern, no mandatory rhyme scheme, stanzas of 2, 4, 6, 8, and 2 syllables. Crapsey always titled her cinquains, effectively utilizing the title as a sixth line.

“WRITE!” I command.

But before I begin I pause in our little writing room (a converted kitchen/dining room, in fact), which vibrates with the sound of fingers tapping on flat black keys and ink sliding against paper: a happy sound; a creative, invigorating, satisfying sound; while the low hum of a dog’s sleepy snores surround my group in a warm writing hug.

cinquain, poetry, writing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, a challenge – do you dare create your own cinquain here?

 

27 thoughts on “Ode to Writers Everywhere”

  1. I love your Cinquain Pam, and the very soothing, warm and gently self-depreciating description of a writing class. Ok, thanks for the challenge, can’t resist having a go…Love, H xxx

    Wake

    Breathe in
    sacred life pumps
    magic round my body
    collecting at hot fingertips
    I touch…

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  5. This is sort of like writing haiku. I have a bunch of those. Cadence is much different though. I had to count with my fingers.

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  6. Well, I’ll try again now that I’ve read the instructions more carefully. I was so focused on the total number of syllables that I totally forgot there was an instruction for each line too.

    CONNECT
    Reach out.
    Feel the heart force.
    Become the conduit
    for love that heals and comforts pain
    and fear.

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    • Thanks – as happens many times when I write, I’m not sure WHAT will come forth. I think my soul mixed with my brain on my cinquain. (oh my, and I think I just rhymed) Ha -love how writing constantly surprises us.

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    • Thank you thank you for reading about cinquains, even if they’re not your thing. The writers in my class groaned, believe me, but they keep coming back, thank goodness!

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  12. Escellent post, Pam, but have you thought that maybe people should be better listeners? I wouldn’t put all the blame on yourself. As a society we don’t stop and let others speak so much.

    I am working on my 2, 4, 5, 8 & 2 and will get back to you, xo LMA

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