Thatcher's Dark Legacy

I don't even begin to understand British politics but from what I can gather, former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (PM 1979-1990) brought Britain, Scotland & Wales to their knees.

My Irish grannie, no Anglophile, was always reading and fond of quoting from the Brehon Laws, O'Hart's Irish Pedigrees, and the original 1894 Gaelic League edition of Dinneen's Irish Dictionary—while cursing the Irish equivalent of the devil incarnate, Oliver Cromwell, and current British politics in empty rooms. Such was my education.

Official news reports are extolling the virtues of the Thatcher Years, canonizing her at death, akin to how we whitewashed Governor/President Reagan's sins, then chiding us to not to speak ill of the dead. We Irish Americans have had our fill of revisionist Anglocentric history. Lest ye forget—Thatcher's dark legacy was a "political legacy of rampant inequality and greed, privatisation and social breakdown."

Thatcher's key policies, deregulation of the financial sector, the privatization of state-owned companies, and what she called Community Charge (a poll tax), devastated the backbone of the United Kingdom—the working class.

Thatcher ruthlessly and systematically destroyed the social fabric of the welfare state that protected the economic well-being of UK citizens. No wonder Scotland and Wales—hardest hit by Thatcherism—want to secede.

Irish mediator, Miceál Francis O'Hurley reminded me that "We only need remember that Pinochet was her friend to whom she extended protection. Aside from my many reasons as an Irishman to loathe her for just cause, her economic policies devastated several generations of English people." I am also reminded that she was also a good friend of Saddam Hussein. 

O'Hurley (no relation), who once worked on The Hill as a legistlative analyst, before emigrating to Ireland, knows the dirty laundry of Washington politics, jokingly trotted out the dog Latin axiom - semper ubi sububi. 

LOL, dirty laundry indeed. Knickers aside, the argument should support facts, not rely upon false syllogism (read: yellow journalism, or to further degrade the term—FOX News), so what little information I have on Thatcher, was viewed from someone else's warped lens. And so I read it all. But something keeps nagging me as I read the glowing tabloid eulogies.

I loved delving into rhetoric with Dr. Daniel Milia, my Irish professor at UC Berkeley. Indeed, quid est veritas?Brilliant stuff, rhetoric. That's what we employed when we read the medieval Irish manuscripts. What lens?

I am a poet, not a politician. All I can do is read voraciously and deduce until I become myopic. But this adulation makes me uneasy in my soul. All this sweeping under the rug stuff. Rhetoric is a lost art. The ability to lay one's hands, er mind, upon facts, and create a coherent train of thought. 

I am reminded that a filidh, the ancient Irish poet-seer, who was part-diviner, part-healer and part-councilor, was required to have a background in law as well—whether it be the laws of nature or laws of the heart, or the Laws of Bréifne.

O'Hurley stated "There was no contradiction that the land of Brehon laws also was the land of Saints and Scholars. When did we allow the law to be the stuff of fear and loathing and not the refuge of the poor, the widow and the orphan? Our [Irish]"backward ways" gave rights to women, the sick, the poor, etc., (even maternity and paternity leave) with which the West is now only 'discovering.'"

"Along with Reagan, their world view, inflicted through economic policies, bankrupted the poor, impoverished the middle classes, diminished education for all and instituted a regime of economic Darwinism. I admired her courage, and the sincerity of her beliefs— but then the Nazis all were courageous and firm in their beliefs too."

O'Hurley continued: "Historically, truth and facts have had little relation to decision-making. Only consider Joe McCarthy and how he and Tricky Dick Nixon shaped the nation."

Thatcher's Privatisation has been described as "the biggest electoral bribe in history." Thatcher also tried to sell off privatize social medicine, hospitals, waterworks, gas, electricity, etc., in other words: to put publically owned amenities already paid for by the people through taxes—into the hands of private investors so it wouldn't be financial a burden on the government. Sound familiar? The rich got richer under her stewardship. Can you spell Bush?

For many, Thatcher's reign saw the destruction of British industry, when she assaulted and declared civil war on the trade unions (especially coal, and print unions)—what she dubbed, "the enemy within." Then she turned around and privatized all but 15 publicly owned coal mines which left thousands out of work—most notably in Wales.

Under Thatcher's regime, direct taxes on income were lowered and to balance the shortfall, she increased indirect taxes. Meanwhile, working class unemployment (over 3.3 million), skyrocketed through the roof. Trade and industry fell by 38.2%. She hamstrung and garrotted the middle class, then drowned them.

As the recession of the early 1980s spiraled, Thatcher counter-measured by increasing taxes and cutting funding for social services, housing, and education (taking school lunch milk from the children—fergawdsakes—as bad as Reagan's proclaiming katsup as a vegetable). She then completely gutted funding for higher education.

The wholesale loss of employment, mass closure of factories, housing, and loss of basic social services fueled massive race riots in every major city which led to the reinstatement of the Vagrancy Act of 1824 to detain citizens based on "reasonable suspicion" which was heavily enforced in migrant and black communities.

She played the race card during reelection, saying, "People are really afraid that this country might be rather swamped by people of a different culture" which helped spark the 1981 race riots  in London, Liverpool, Glasgow and Brixton.

Then during the next decade, Thatcher introduced a per capita "poll tax"(at 20% +) to fund local government in order to—get this—lower the tax burden of large property owners and big businesses. Sound familiar?

When 1.8 million people point-blank refused to pay the head tax, Thatcher enforced draconioan measures, riots ensued. During the Poll Tax Riots, the Battle of Trafalgar, at Trafalgar Square, was among the most violent where hundreds were arrested and incarcerated.

Meanwhile, under Thatcher's regime, interest rates soared, value added tax (VAT) shot up to 15%; and tellingly, by 1990, when she resigned from office, inflation was back at 10%—the same level as when she implemented the reforms in 1979.

A modern day Cromwell, Thatcher's aggression towards Ireland was horiffic; Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams said she had done "great hurt to working class communities across Britain and also people in Ireland".

Adams also accused Thatcher of "embracing collusion" and playing a "shameful role" in the IRA hunger strike of 1981. (BBC)

"As De Valera said about Churchill, she was good for the UK, but her policies were not good for Ireland," said Fianan Fail leader, former taoiseach, Bertie Ahern. "She was a unique lady and a formidable lady. She was prime minister for the same length of time that I was. But nothing was achieved towards peace in Northern Ireland during Thatcher's time as prime minister." (Herald)

Thatcher also destroyed basic human rights in Northern Ireland. Catholics were stripped of civil rights. She made political prisoner Bobby Sands, an Irish martyr whose death led to a surge in IRA recruitment. Ironic, isn't it, that on this very day in 1981, Bobby Sands was elected MP for Fermanagh/South Tyrone with 30,493 votes—almost 10,000 more votes than British Prime Minister Thatcher received.

(Political prisoner and IRA Hunger Strike leader, Bobby Sands (Roibeárd Gearóid Ó Seachnasaigh 1954 – 1981) was arrested in 1976 at age 18, and imprisoned 14 years in the most brutal of British prison camps, the H-Block of Long Kesh—Great Britain's own Gitmo in Belfast, for "illegal possession" of a gun in the boot of a car. Not shooting anyone, or blowing anyone up.)

IRA prisoners had historically been treated differently than common criminals. They were treated as political prisoners. Thatcher’s decision to treat them like ordinary criminals was a disastrous policy measure. It lengthened The Troubles by at least a decade, if not a generation. It led to the inevitability of the hunger strikes and the polarization that followed. (Boston Globe)

Sands' MP election victory raised hopes that a settlement to raise Sands to political prisoner status could be reached—thus restoring basic human rights under the Geneva Convention, but Thatcher took a hard stance, stating that Mr. Sands was a convicted criminal, with no rights— not prisoners of war. Under Thatcher's tenure, Sands was tortured with daily beatings, water-hosing, mental abuse. Sands died in 1981 after 66 days on hunger strike. Said Thatcher, "Mr. Sands was a convicted criminal. He chose to take his own life." The mother of Joe McDonnell, one of the hunger strikers, said “Criminals don’t starve themselves to death to make a point.”

Boston Globe's Kevin Cullen writes, “Thatcher’s intransigence drove many young men into the waiting arms of the IRA. She was one of the IRA’s best recruiters. She pushed the end of the war back at least 10 years and consigned a generation to conflict.”

My grandmother cried the day Bobby Sands died. The only other time I saw her cry was when Jack Kennedy was shot. It left me shaken to the core. It made me sit up and bear witness.

Ironically, it was Reagan who told Thatcher that "she had to talk to the Irish government"—which led to the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985. As Nelson Mandela once told Martin McGuinness, “You don’t make peace with your friends. You make peace with your enemies.”(Boston Globe)

Thatcher (bosom friend of Pinochet) denounced Nelson Mandela and the ANC as "grubby little terrorists, while backing South African apartheid. (she later reversed that position when it became economically and politically savvy to abolish Apartheid). 

Thatcher did more to polarize society and create a rift and division between the classes and between oppressors and the oppressed than any other Prime Minister. I won't even mention the Falklands farce—with a thousand dead and 2,500 wounded. For what? Cojones?

Thatcher's policies also foisted us into the first Gulf War (and ultimately to Iraq.) But I'm tired now, so in closing, yes, Thatcher was female, but no feminist. She was not a good role model for women—as Amy Tan's friend posted on Facebook (which got my blood boiling—and led to this diatribe).

Obama said that she had "broken glass ceiling for women." In his Guardian obit, comedian/actor Russell Brand quipped: "Only in the sense that all the women beneath her were blinded by falling shards. She is an icon of individualism, not of feminism."

I fear Thatcher's death has already become a Welshman's holiday replete with epithets of verbal grave dancing.

Across Britain tonight, especially in Liverpool, Glasgow and Brixton, Thatcher's death is turning into an early Guy Fawkes birthday celebration. And they are gathering at Trafalgar Square. Poetic justice is served.

Twitter reported more than one million mentions of the word "Thatcher" in the four hours after the announcement of the former prime minister's death. (BBC)

"Ding Dong! The witch is dead" has become a national anthem. British filmmaker, Ken Loach “Remember she called Mandela a terrorist and took tea with the torturer and murderer Pinochet. How should we honor her? Let’s privatize her funeral. Put it out to competitive tender and accept the cheapest bid. It’s what she would have wanted.” Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle ‏(@frankieboyle) posted: "Finally, I get to wear my black suit and tap shoes together."

My sweetie in Scotland reports that: "They're also raising flags and having celebratory street parties—especially in the north and mining areas. Thatcher ironically caused the [resurrection of the] Scottish Parliament—in response to her policies that decimated Scotland during her time. The Poll Tax was her final undoing."

Stone-hearted Maggie was ruthless. She was a curious admixture of Iron Lady and Good Old Boys school. She championing warmongers Reagan, Bush & Bushs' worst politics served up with a sidedish of corrupt Wall Street bakers tossed in for good measure.

So tell, me how Thatcher's legacy was a good legacy? I don't understand. I don't wish to speak ill of the dead but I wonder how long will it take to reverse the damage done during Thatcher's reign. Perhaps a generation, more like a lifetime.

In the words of Bobby Sands, "Our revenge will be the laughter of our children."

WANTING POEM

WANTING POEM

My first boyfriend and I sat in the back row

of the little theater in Olney Hall, 

amidst human skeletons and dinosaur bones

watching a film series on Buckminster Fuller

envisioning our lives, moving back to the land

and when Bucky said: "The minute you begin 

to do what you really want to do, 

it's really a different kind of life."

We stepped into the sultry evening

and walked in beauty like the night

beneath a cloud of jasmine stars

and we believed in what was possible.

So very young, and sure-footed,

we scaled the heights of the tallest summits:
Mt. Whitney, Lyell Glacier, Cloud's Rest.

That summer we traversed the Range of Light,

the Sierras, our bed, the stars our blanket

and in alpine meadows, we made promises 

to the gods, not knowing the price to be paid.

APRIL 8, 2013

WANTING POEM

WANTING poem prompt

My first boyfriend and I sat in the back row

of the little theater in Olney Hall, 

amidst human skeletons and dinosaur bones

watching a film series on Buckminster Fuller

envisioning our lives, moving back to the land

and when Bucky said: "The minute you begin 

to do what you really want to do, 

it's really a different kind of life."

We stepped into the sultry evening

and walked in beauty like the night

beneath a cloud of jasmine stars

and we believed in what was possible.

So very young, and sure-footed,

we scaled the heights of the tallest summits:
Mt. Whitney, Lyell Glacier, Cloud's Rest.

That summer we traversed the Range of Light,

the Sierras, our bed, the stars our blanket

and in alpine meadows, we made promises 

to the gods, not knowing the price to be paid.

PADI: write an instructional poem. Your instructional poem could list instructions. Or it could capture an instructional moment.

NaPoWriMo: write a poem that has the same first line as another poem. You can use a favorite poem, pick up a random book of poetry and get a first line that way, or perhaps use one of the following:
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
She walks in beauty, like the night
Slowly, silently, now the moon
anyone lived in a pretty how town

I have written some poems of this type in the past, and it can be fun to take a well-known first line and do something totally different with it! But if it’s hard for you to shake the original, maybe using a first line from a random poem would be best for you.

Molly Fisk: April 8. "The minute you begin to do what you really want to do, it's really a different kind of life." Buckminster Fuller


30 Day Poetry Challenge: Find a short poem (one page or less) that you love. Cross out every fourth word. Replace the crossed out words with your own choices.


APRIL A POEM A DAY info

BERLIN WALL

I wonder if we were to reconstruct

all the pieces of the Berlin Wall

would it reach all the way to the Kremlin?

INSOMNIA, ll

INSOMNIA

The secret to staying asleep at night
is to go to bed late, keeping yourself awake,
but not too stimulated—no good books,
no great movies, or charming lovers.
Reruns will do, but don't forget to set the timer
or you'll waken to the TV blaring in an empty room
with infomercial trying to sell you gawd knows what
and later, you'll have inexplicable cravings for
Congolium floors or timeshares
but the problem with timers is that
like with alarms clocks
you'll second guess when they'll go off
dozing cozily in the middle of the rerun
missing the climax, only to wake to a disjointed ending
and the writer in you will attempt to resolve the storyline
and there you are, at three am with owl's eyes
staring at the ceiling but it's all too banal to record.


4.7.13

LIE POEM

LIE poem prompt

(MY TAKE)

The secret to staying asleep at night

is to go to bed late, keeping yourself awake,

but not too stimulated—no good books,

no great movies, or charming lovers.

Reruns will do, but don't forget to set the timer

or you'll waken to the TV blaring in an empty room

with infomercial trying to sell you gawd knows what

and later, you'll have inexplicable cravings for

Congolium floors or timeshares

but the problem with timers is that

like with alarms clocks

you'll second guess when they'll go off

dozing cozily in the middle of the rerun

missing the climax, only to wake to a disjointed ending

and the writer in you will attempt to resolve the storyline

and there you are, at three am with owl's eyes

staring at the ceiling but it's all too banal to record.

4.7


PADI: write a sevenling poem. Never heard of a sevenling poem? Well, it’s a 7-line poem (chosen because today is the 7th day of the challenge) that features two tercets and a one-liner in the final (third) stanza. The first two stanzas should have an element of three in them that can either play off each directly, work as juxtaposition, or have no connection whatsoever. The final line should work as either a punchline, weird twist, or punctuation mark.

NaPoWriMo: poem that tells a lie. I think you could have a poem that’s all lies (that could be very funny — full of things like “the sun is the size of a nickel”) or a poem that steadily builds to telling one big whopper. I can imagine these being very poignant, or very much like goofy shaggy-dog stories. I suppose it all comes down to what you want to lie about!


Molly Fisk: April 7 prompt: The secret to staying asleep all night.


30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write an ode to one regret that you have. (For more information on the ode, visit http://bit.ly/gKG9Aa)


APRIL A POEM A DAY info

Irish President Mary Robinson

Mary Robinson (right) served as the seventh, and first female president of Ireland (1990-1997); she was appointed the U.N. Commissioner for Human Rights (1997-2002). In her memoir, Everybody Matters: My Life Giving Voice, she writes of her pioneering work on behalf of women’s rights, the separation of church and state, and world peace. Mary Robinson's social advocacy also includes Oxfam, the GAVI Alliance, vaccinating children worldwide, and the Council of Women World Leaders, and she is one of the “Elders,” led by Nelson Mandela dedicated to bringing peace and justice.

What Mary said: everyone matters—that the individual is capable of changing society, the the world. Law and morality. Very empowering. Got a chance to chat with Mary at the end. Someone took a photo of us together, lovely. Thanks to Jane Bark for driving me to Book Passages!

That makes two Irish presidents I've met—Mary McAleece. I will have to dig up my notes (make that three as I later met Michael Higgins at Stanford.) We also met the, Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, the inimitable Mo Mowlam at UC Berkeley ca. 2000—she was a real firecracker. I have NOT, however, met, nor will I ever wish to meet Margaret Thatcher. Not in heaven, nor in hell.

My grandfather knew Taoiseach Éamon de Valera, Ireland's first president of Dáil Éireannm and met him in San Francisco during the Irish War of Independence. Somewhere, there is a lost photo of them together, leaning on a car. We have a photo of Liam Mallows in our lower field.

Chilling my knee to see Mary Robinson

Sittin' back chillin'—literally chillin' my knee with two ice packs (and a horse-sized Advil sidecar) so that I can go see former Irish president, Mary Robinson at Book Passages in Corte Madera at 5 PM—it's free.

Home again jiggity-jig. Icing da knee again. It was a FULL house at Book Passages. Mary's driver got lost enroute from Palo Alto, so we started late. Lots of old  Irish friends: Pat and Uta, Leslie...
What Mary said: everyone matters—that the individual is capable of changing society, the the world. Law and morality. Very empowering. Got a chance to chat with Mary at the end. Someone took a photo of us together, lovely. Thank you Jane Bark for driving us there!

APRIL FOOL POEM

This is just to say

that the text message 

you sent April first

arrived a week late

and all out of breath

having traversed 

the outer reaches 

of Alpha Centauri

in record time but 

I am sad to say that

it did not arrive

in time for last 

week's dinner invite.



This was not written from a prompt but one could use this one:
PADI: write a new arrival poem. The new arrival could be a baby or a person. The new arrival might be a car or other piece of technology. Heck, the new arrival might be an idea or poem. (Btw, if you’re a new arrival to the site and this challenge, take a peak below about commenting.)

THERE ARE THINGS NO ONE EVER TOLD ME

THERE ARE THINGS NO ONE EVER TOLD ME

So I needed a DVI to HDMI cable
that was 15cm long.
Not being metric savvy,
I Googled X cm to inches ratio
to get an idea of cable length
and the first entry was
average human penis size.
Not what I was expecting.
I'll never have trouble
remembering how long 15cm is again.
Thanks for the image, Google.

4/5/13
PLUS POEM

CINQUAINS

CINQUAINS


Cinquains
there are some things
I'm not fond of like writing
tight little poems in for
mation


4/5/13

PLUS POEM

Plus poem prompt

CINQUAINS

Cinquains
there are some things
I'm not fond of like writing
tight little poems in for
mation


4/5/13

syllables 2-4-6-8-2
stresses 1-2-3-4-1

PADI: write a plus poem. Plus can mean a lot of things, and even the act of addition could equate to subtraction.

NaPoWriMo: write a cinquain on this, the fifth day of NaPoWriMo. A cinquain is a poem that employs stanzas with five lines. Each line has a certain number of accented or stressed syllables, and a certain number of overall syllables per line. In the “American” cinquain, a form invented by a woman with the highly unfortunate name of Adelaide Crapsey, the number of stresses per line is 1-2-3-4-1, and the number of syllables is 2-4-6-8-2. So the first line would have two syllables, one stressed and one unstressed. The second line would have four syllables, two of which are stressed, and so on. This kind of accent/syllabic verse can be a bit frustrating at first, but it’s useful for learning to sharpen up your language!


Molly Fisk: April 5 prompt: These are the things that no one ever told me...


THERE ARE THINGS NO ONE EVER TOLD ME

So I needed a DVI to HDMI cable
that was 15cm long. 
Not being metric savvy, 
I Googled X cm to inches ratio 
to get an idea of cable length
and the first entry was
average human penis size. 
Not what I was expecting. 
I'll never have trouble 
remembering how long 15cm is again.
Thanks for the image, Google.

4/5/13


30 Day Poetry Challenge: Make something. Anything! Write a poem about your spontaneous making experience.



APRIL A POEM A DAY info

icing my knee

Icing my knee & facebooking (I have DSL again!) before I go to Dr's office. I love icing my knee, or rather, I love the lack of pain. In general, I don't feel the pain, per se (I get bilious when my painload has reached red alert stage, then it's too late), but I notice the relief from pain when I ice it. But I rarely remember to do it.

See,  I injured it at work, I tweaked it, and ignored it...I tried to work through the pain. It didn't work. Not an option, so things began to tear & stretch, beginning with the muscles, then the ligaments and tendons, resolving at the meniscus.Icing my knee

Desperately seeking wifi (again), or epic AT&T fail (again)

OK, my parking lot wifi Facebook feeding frenzy must come to an end. My poor overworked MacBook is roaring like a furnace and it's too hot to touch. Certainly not something i want on my lap. It’s literally scorching my thighs. Smokin’ hot. Like a frying pan.  I’m trying to preload as many Facebook pages, and articles as I can, so I can read them later from the memory buffer. No DSL sucks: huge AT&T fail. After 2.5 hours of technical service, this time, from Florida, mind you, the AT&T technician discovered that though I had internet, they finally admitted that there were some electronic errors and glitches at their end of the line. Duh. As in no internet whatsoever for nearly 2 weeks? Ya think? How many phone calls later? We’ve taken to writing their service and agent  numbers on the wall. And then they didn’t want to give us a credit. Right, AT&T. Way to go. Tell me about your Uverse. What a black hole its become.

saved from Facebook memories

NaPoWriMo PADI, Molly Fisk, poem prompts 2013 (not used)

4/1 PADI: write a new arrival poem. The new arrival could be a baby or a person. The new arrival might be a car or other piece of technology. Heck, the new arrival might be an idea or poem. (Btw, if you’re a new arrival to the site and this challenge, take a peak below about commenting.)

NaPoWriMo: write a poem in which each line except the last takes the form of a single, declarative sentence. Then, the final line should take the form of a question. With any luck, this will result in poems that have a sort of driving, reportorial tone, but with a powerful rhetorical finish.

Molly Fisk: April 1 prompt: Not another happy ending, I'm sick and tired of happy endings

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a short poem (less than 5 lines). Be sure to include at least two strong images. Don’t overthink it, just do it!

4/2   PADI:Two-for-Tuesday prompt. For those new to the challenge, you have the option of writing to the first prompt or the second prompt–or even both if you feel so inclined. Here they are:
Write a bright poem.
Write a dark poem.


NaPoWriMo: write a valediction. This is a poem of farewell. Perhaps the most famous one is John Donne’s A Valediction Forbidding Mourning, which turns the act of saying good-bye into a very tender love poem. But your poem could say “good-bye” (and maybe good riddance!) to anything or anyone. A good-bye to winter might be in order, for example. Or good-bye to the week-old easter eggs in your refrigerator. Light or serious, long or short, it’s up to you!


Molly Fisk: April 2 prompt: I still plan to write you a letter on growing up far from the desert.


30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a poem on paper quickly without lifting your pen from the page. Post image if possible. No edits.



4/3  PADI: write a tentative poem. The poem could be about a tentative date, a tentative person, a tentative situation. The narrator could be tentative. The subject could be tentative.

NaPoWriMo: writing in ottava rima — an Italian form that, in English, usually takes the form of an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter, with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c. The most famous poem in English that uses the ottava rima form is probably Byron’s Don Juan. If you haven’t read it, it’s wickedly funny! It’s really amazing how contemporary Byron’s language is — it’s like he’s your mean-girl friend just gossiping at you in verse. But unlike Byron, you don’t have to write an entire epic in ottava rima! Just eight lines will do for now. Happy writing! (I think this was the Day 8 poem... sigh)

Here's an orphan prompt instead: Seven Things I Will Not Think About in the Last Seconds of My Life.

Molly Fisk: April 3 prompt: That's not really happening is it?

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a poem to someone and share it with them.

4/4  PADI: take the phrase “Hold That (Blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and write the poem. Possible titles include “Hold That Thought,” “Hold That Space,” “Hold That Poem,” or whatever else holds your attention.

NaPoWriMo: write a poem with a title drawn from one of these spaceship names. Feel free to pick a genuine Banks, like the ones listed above, or to take one from the twitter. And if you think of your own Banks-like spaceship name title, feel free to use that! The poet Barbara Guest wrote an essay warning poets about starting from the title, but while I’ve found that a wonderful poem usually finds its right title, I’ve also found that the right title can easily lead to a wonderful poem!

Molly Fisk: April 4 prompt: "There is a knack to flying. You must throw yourself at the ground and miss." -- e.e. cummings

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Look to Craigslist, newspapers, Twitter, anywhere for unintentional poetry. Using the original text, punctuate and use line breaks to turn it into a poem.

4/6 PADI: Write a post poem. Post could be short for post office–or traditional mail. Post could be a wood or metal post. Or post could mean relate to words like postpone, post-punk, or whatever.

NaPoWriMo: write a sea shanty (or shantey, or chanty, or chantey — there’s a good deal of disagreement regarding the spelling!). Anyway, these are poems in the forms of songs, strongly rhymed and rhythmic, that sailors might sing while hauling on ropes and performing other sea-going labors. Probably the two most famous sea shanties are What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor? and Blow the Man Down. And what should your poem be about? Well, I suppose it could be about anything, although some nautical phrases tossed into the chorus would be good for keeping the sea in your shanty. Haul away, boys, haul away!

Molly Fisk: April 6 prompt: I never want to be too comfortable.

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a poem from Mars. Describe ordinary things in unfamiliar ways, as through the eyes of someone from another planet unfamiliar with our culture/objects/emotions.

4/7  PAD: write a comparison poem. The poem could compare one person with another, or it could compare one thing against itself. Or it could take a comparable direction

NaPoWriMo: take a walk. Make notes — mental or otherwise — on what you see on your walk, and incorporate these notes into your poem. A bit more serene and observational than yesterday, and hopefully a nice, calming poem to begin your weekend with.  They suggested using RhymeZone

Molly Fisk: April 13 prompt: Write an elegy for yourself.

And if that isn't enough check out 30 Day Poetry Challenge on Facebook

An Exquisite Corpse is a way of creating art from random pieces. Submit three words here: http://buff.ly/14XgQnD to be randomly drawn from a jumble and shared/posted by the 30dpc admins.  See this page for word list.

4/14PAD: write a sonnet. For those who are not familiar with the sonnet, it’s a 14-line poem that rhymes. Some contemporary sonnet-eers even ditch the rhymes and just write a 14-line poem. Go with whatever feels right.

NaPoWriMo: write a persona poem — that is, a poem in the voice of a particular person who isn’t you. But I’d like you to choose a very particular kind of person. How about a poem in the voice of a superhero (or a supervillain)? Comic book characters are very much like mythological characters — they tend to embody big-picture values or personality traits. Good or bad. Loyal or disloyal! (Heck — some comic book characters are mythologial characters — think of Thor). And like mythological characters, superheroes and supervillains let us tap into deep-seated cultural tropes. So go for it. Whether you identify with Batman, Robin or – gulp – the Joker, let’s hear your poems in another voice.

Molly Fisk: April 14 prompt: Waiting for inertia.

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Terza rima was created by Italian poet Dante in the late 13th century for his epic poem The Divine Comedy. It’s composed of “tercets woven into a rhyme scheme that requires the end-word of the second line in one tercet to supply the rhyme for the first and third lines in the following tercet.”

It’s sometimes considered too difficult to use this structure in English, but we're going to do it anyway! Today's challenge is to write a poem in terza rima. (You can read more about terza rima here: http://bit.ly/mzBCYi)

4/15  PAD: write an infested poem. There are many different infestations–from physical infestations to infestations of the heart and soul.

NaPoWriMo: write a pantun. Not a pantoum — though they are related. The pantun is a traditional Malay form, a style of which was later adapted into French and then English as the pantoum. A pantun consists of rhymed quatrains (abab), with 8-12 syllables per line. The first two lines of each quatrain aren’t meant to have a formal, logical link to the second two lines, although the two halves of each quatrain are supposed to have an imaginative or imagistic connection. Here’s an example:

I planted sweet-basil in mid-field.

Grown, it swarmed with ants,

I loved but am not loved,

I am all confused and helpless.*

The associative leap from the first couplet to the second allows for a great deal of surprise and also helps give the poems are very mysterious and lyrical quality. Try your hand at just one quatrain, or a bunch of them, and see how you do!

Molly Fisk: April 15 prompt: Hew paints crickets

30 Day Poetry Challenge Experiment with a poetic form. Break all the rules! Not sure where to start? Check out this list of forms:http://bit.ly/3JIt9K

4/16 take the phrase “Once Upon a (Blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Example titles could include: “Once Upon a Time,” “Once Upon a Moon,” or “Once Upon a Stage Accepting the Nobel Prize in Literature.” Hey, a poet can dream, right?

write a poem that reveals something. Maybe it’s something physical (like light revealing an intruder or pulling back a sheet to reveal a new car). Or maybe it’s something psychological, emotional, or spiritual. Today’s the day to reveal.

Lisa Cihlar thinks you should write an aubade (an aubade is a morning love song, or a song or poem about lovers separating at dawn) because she fell in love with this:

Verse Daily: Aubade with a Broken Neck by Traci Brimhall

4/17 write a “suspicious minds” poem. When I assembled these prompts more than a month ago, I considered this one of my more unusual (and more creative) prompts. Click here to see Elvis Presley perform this song. Anyway, I’m thinking there are a few ways to go with this prompt. One, write a poem in which the narrator is either suspicious of someone or is the actual one under suspicion. Two, write a poem that plays with repetition–as this song does. Three, write a poem that is a performance poem spectacular (as this song is here). Of course, you can always bend and blend the prompt as you see fit.

How to eavesdrop.

4/18   

PAD: take the phrase “I Am (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “I Am Superman,” “I Am Wonder Woman,” “I Am Out of Nickels,” “I Am Running Low on Patience,” and so on

NaPoWriMo: write a poem that begins and ends with the same word. You could try for something in media res, that begins and ends with “and,” for example. Or maybe “if.” Or perhaps you could really challenge yourself and begin/end your poem with a six-dollar word like “antidisestablishmentarianism.” (Just kidding!) Whatever word you choose, I hope you have fun with it!

Molly Fisk: April 18 prompt: I've walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread" —from "What Kind of Times are These?" by Adrienne Rich

30 Day Poetry Challenge: What’s your favorite color? Jot down three adjectives that describe that color. What’s your favorite animal? Write three adjectives that describe that animal. What’s your favorite body of water (general or specific)? Jot down three adjectives that describe the feeling it evokes. Now, imagine yourself in a white room, no windows, no doors, no noise. Write down three adjectives that describe the feeling that evokes. Now, write a poem using all of your adjectives in any order

4/19 

PAD: write a burn poem. I actually wrote a poem titled “burn” earlier in this month’s challenge, so I’m going to have to think a little on this to avoid repeating what I’ve already written. However, burn can represent many things–from getting burned by a bad deal (or a friend) to feeling the burn when working out to physically burning from fires.

NaPoWriMo: Write a poem in the form of a personal ad!

Or, if you like, try any kind of want ad. Personal ads, though, do have a kind of poetry to them. The personal ads of the London Review of Books are particularly famous, and have even spawned a book. When I was younger, one of my favorite guilty pleasures was getting a copy of the local alternative newspaper and reading through the personal ads for (a) witty ones and (b) really horrible ones. One of my favorites was a witty one, which went something like this:

Antonymically Correct?

Ham-fisted, vindictive milquetoast seeks ineducable, filthy harridan to castigate, bore, and neglect.

Try and top that, if you like. (Oh, and by the way, the personal ad doesn’t actually have to be about you, of course. Feel free to invent every last thing about it).

Molly Fisk: April 19 prompt: How to control your dreams.

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a poem about something you hold sacred.

4/20  

PAD: write a beyond poem. The poem could be beyond human comprehension. It could be from the great beyond. It could be from beyond–another city, country, planet, solar system, dimension, etc. Don’t be afraid to go above and beyond with it.

NaPoWriMo: write a poem that uses at least five of the following words:

owl

generator

abscond

upwind

squander

clove

miraculous

dunderhead

cyclops

willowy

mercurial

seaweed

gutter

non-pareil

artillery

salt

curl

ego

rodomontade

elusive

twice

ghost

cheese

cowbird

truffle

svelte

quahog

bilious

Molly Fisk: April 20 prompt: Worth a Fortune Word of the Day: sibylline

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Write a short poem about change. (Please know that we'll be using these poems as part of tomorrow's prompt, so please consider this before posting them publicly.)

4/21  

PAD: write a senryu. A senryu is like a haiku with less restrictions and different subject matter. It’s a 3-line poem with a traditional 5/7/5 syllable (or sound) pattern, and the poem typically deals with the human condition. But that’s about all. No cutting words, seasonal words, or focus on nature. In fact, many people who claim to write haiku are already writing senryu.

NaPoWriMo: re-write Frank O’Hara’s Lines for the Fortune Cookies. When I was a kid, I found a fortune cookie recipe, and made the cookies, which were pretty good. But mostly I was attracted to the idea of writing the fortunes. Unfortunately (rimshot, here), I wrote such long ones that they were very difficult to fold up small enough to fit into the cookies! Hopefully, you won’t have that problem — after all, the ideal fortune is a one-liner, and one-liners thrive on a very poetic compactness of expression. This should be a good chance for all of us to practice that, and amusing to boot.

Molly Fisk: April 21 prompt: I gotta see a man about a chainsaw

30 Day Poetry Challenge: Modify someone else's poem posted from yesterday’s Creative Commons 2.0 part 1 prompt.

4/22 

PAD: write a complex poem. Complex is a complex word that can refer to mental state, apartments, difficulty of a situation, and so many other complex situations.

NaPoWriMo: Today is Earth Day. The first Earth Day was celebrated in 1970 and is now celebrated internationally. In honor of the occasion, I challenge you to write a poem in keeping with Earth Day — it could be a reflection on what’s growing in your garden, a modern pastoral, or a Marianne-Moore-style poem about an animal. Anything to do with the natural world is fair game. Happy writing!

Molly Fisk: April 22 prompt: 50 ways to cook a chicken

30 Day Poetry Challenge:“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.” –Hemingway. Write a short poem that is also “truest sentence that you know.”

MORE POETRY PROMPTS

PAD poetry prompts 2016 (not used)

April Poetry Month prompts...2016

NaWriPoMo 2015  link
It's time for April Poem a Day! 2014 

November Poem a Day prompts 2013

APRIL POEM A DAY links 2013

NaPoWriMo PADI, Molly Fisk, poem prompts 2013 (not used)

NaPoWriMo poem prompts 2011 (not used) Nov

NaPoWriMo Prompts 2010 (not used)  Apr

APRIL POEM A DAY links

Most years I attempt to do the Poem a Day challenge, or, let's say, I have good intentions. The last solid April poetry writing month I had was in 2009! Otherwise, it's sporadic. 2010 wasn't bad. 2011 I boycotted, but made it up in Nov. Sort of.

Suddenly the month's half-gone (too many other deadlines—and taxes—and yes, I'm writing this in arrears, erm, advance), and I haven't put poems to paper, or cyber ink. This year I started on April 11th (I wrote a few bits in my head, then promptly forgot them). I got six poems done, It's a start.

OK, so I'm six poems behind. Thatcher's death took up a big chunk of my writing time—but I needed to banish that ghost, in case you're wondering what Thatcher is doing in the middle of this poetry run. Even if I fall off the wagon, I'll still kepp posting the poem prompts, in case you feel motivated. Meanwhile, it's a reminder to me to get back on the wagon.

With the best of intentions, I dutifully collected writing prompts from three sources. Then they got all jumbled up, so naturally, some of the prompts are out of order.  So much for that plan. I went with Molly's prompts as the guide, because she dates them. And they're mercifully short. But ultimately it doesn't matter because—however you choose to do it—the point is to write a poem a day. There is no test. Just the math = 30 poems.

So I'm lazy, but my eyeteeth are latched onto far horizons. I collect all three strains of prompts to either give myself three choices, or to write three poems a day. Not gonna happen—she said from experience.

However, I've found that the near impossible challenge of combining all three prompts, is so weird, so as to be of interest. Call it juxtaposition. Ultimately it'll be like Frank O'Hara's poem about oranges, Why I Am Not a Painter.

Everything here is really first draft. Make that 0.5 draft. Words to fill the assignment. The idea is to get it down in one to 5 minutes, and then endlessly revise some of them in May. So, feel free to use some of these prompts in any way you see fit.

I've posted four very different kinds of prompts, and yes, there are bound to be some overlaps, but interesting ones. That make 120 prompts total. I hope you'll join me. Tho I may be sporadic in my posting.

PAD: Robert Brewer's Writers' Digest a Poem a Day You can post your poems on his webpage. There's a chapbook contest at the end.

NaPoWriMo: National Poem Writing Month is an annual project where poets write a poem a day during April. NaPoWriMo, founded in 2003, is modeled after NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. See the Wikipedia entry for NaPoWriMo!

Molly Fisk: as Herself, with Lisa Cihlar. If you're on Facebook, check out and Like Molly Fisk - Writer, Teacher, Speaker


See 30 Day Poetry Challenge on Facebook too. Robert Fontella provides most of the prompt ideas. You can post your poems there as well. Possible publication too. More info here on 30DPC.

Good luck!

STANDING SKY

When Babe Ruth stepped up to bat
It was as if the sky stood still
And the birds listened for the crack
And the ball flying among them
To distant solar horizons.

False CA Brown Recluse Spiders: they're Titotus, not Loxosceles

The soft squishy house spiders so common in Northern California, have a similar shape as true brown recluse spiders but they're fatter, their legs are also fatter, hairier, and they're more fragile. ergo, they're not brown recluses. But try and convince someone who's creamed the unfortunate spider to something resembling babyfood puree…

We used to call them violin spiders when we were kids. To go with the black widows who had little red violins on their tummies. We orchestrated stories that they were brown man widows. The male black widow is a stripy tan or gray‚ but also shiny like the lady spider who will eat him for post-coital lunch. So you don't see very many man widow spiders.

I don't know when we began to identify the faux brown recluses as true brown recluse spiders (Loxosceles reclusa) but it was sometime during the 1980s. Blame it on the hyperbole generated by the news media.

Black widows or Latrodectus—Wiki

What we tend to identify as brown recluses are not, in fact, brown recluses—though they have similar 6/2 eye structure. They're of the Titiotus persuasion. Actually these Titiotus bhoys have the 3 compound eyes plus one big hairy eyeball structure too. Hence the confusion.

A rather wan and pale Titiotus sp. from CA —Wiki

Grass Valley poet Molly Fisk posted a photo of a real brown recluse on her Facebook page. And I realized that what we've been ignorantly calling brown recluses are in fact, not. However, another name for brown recluse is—violin spider. This is one time I'm SO glad I was wrong about them. The things ya learn on FB. Unfortunately one woman took umbrage at my debunking of the brown recluse myth in California.

Brown Recluse spider, Loxosceles reclusa, has 6 eyes—Wiki

Let's say, when I suggested that it was a false ID, and provided links to many scientific papers on the false identification of brown recluses, her fangs came out. She lost her shit. I rarely defriend people on Facebook, or block them. But that's what was called for. Her vitriol was poisonous. What is is about social media where people can mouth off unsubstantiated drivel and expect NOT to be challenged?

Brown Recluse range—they don't spin webs or go outside. Spiderbytes

However, that said, apparently I am a delicious picnic for spiders: I've been chomped on by the best of them—many faux brown recluses, a black widow, possibly a woodbine spider—to dire results. So I don't stick around to ID them unless I have to. But I don't pulverize them on sight either.

That said, I did keep daddy-long-legs as pets. But they're not spiders, you knew that, right? Opiliones are an order of arachnids, aka harvestmen.

Here's a handy-dandy spider chart from Facebook (no one to credit). Note that the body shape seems to be a clue as to good spiders. Big butts are good. Rather than creaming or nuking that spider, take it outside. Please don't kill your house spiders. They're really beneficial creatures. Sadly, the harmless southern house spider, aka kukulcania, is often mistaken for a Brown recluse. They have hairy legs. None are in N. CA.

There are no populations of brown recluse spiders living in California. If you still don't believe me, read the highly entertaining  Myth of the Brown Recluse: Fact, Fear, and Loathing  by arachnologist Rick Vetter Department of Entomology, University of California, Riverside, CA.

Only a handful of specimens (less than 10) have ever been collected in California and usually there is some connection between the spider and a recent move or shipment from the Midwest...The brown recluse has been elevated to a major urban legend status very much like UFOs, Bigfoot and Elvis....I emphatically state THERE ARE NO BROWN RECLUSE SPIDERS LIVING IN CALIFORNIA.

Got that? Good.

Update 6/19: Just Googled Brown recluses, still no reports in CA! But maybe people are mislabeling our native SoCal desert recluse (Loxosceles deserta), as Brown recluses, but they only live in the eastern deserts and rarely bite.

There is a lost Chilean recluse colony in LA They can pack a wallop of a bite too, but they also rarely bite, you have to seriously threaten them. They're really big, and sometimes are called fiddleback spiders too. I guess that fiddle means don't mess with me!

Knee blues

Living the solitary life, icing the knee. Will there ever be light at the end of the tunnel? My knee is improving daily. Today is not one of those days. Neil is still in Scotland, so I’m going all this alone. Solitary confinement. Life striped down to the bare essentials. I had physical therapy on Tuesday and then did too much yesterday, too—though it wasn't all that much. But I was knackered. Been trying to sneak around w/o crutches or cane. I don’t get very far. And I’m not going to take up ballroom dancing any time soon. I did 2 miles on the stationery bike at #1 tension. Breakthrough. Weenie stats. Knee is now killing me. But it is improving. Ibuprofen is my friend. And ice. Especially ice.

Pi

PI

Pi r square.
Pi r not. Pi r round.
U r square...
Square root of Pi is cake.
Don't be so constantpated.
You can't square a circle.
Way too radius.
It's circumferenstantial evidence.
Don't be irrational.
Integeresting. Reductio ad absurdum.
Why yes, I'd like 3.14 pieces of Pi.
Let them eat random numbered cakes.

3/14/13

I injured my knee...

I did something to my knee. Other than uncontrollable copious tears, ice, ibuprofen, arnica and Topricin, what else to do? I ate some of my frozen peas (and corn—what was I thinking?) so I ziplocked the remainder of them and have the bag strapped to my elevated knee. Excruciating to put any weight on it. Only way I can hobble is with a patella strap. Meniscus damage? Dislocated patella?  Bursa is puffed on inside joint. Reading up on it now. Pain is unbelievable.

Funny ligament noises. Like knee trying to pop back into place. It's taken about a week to declare itself and to get to this state. I've been ignoring it. There was no specific pinpoint of pain. Now it's painful at the inner joint where the tibia and femur meet. Sounds like MCL sprain or tear along the inner joint line of the knee. Or it's a torn meniscus. I'm leaning toward that one.

Driving (clutch) is excruciating. Waiting until I can take more ibu. Called the clinic-closed for weekend. Urgent care in Fremont! Too far to go. Counting the minutes until the next round of ibuprofen. Someone wants to know why I’m not popping Vicodin. Then I'd be barfing on the far wall. I can't take synthetic opiates. Can you spell projectile vomiting? And that's just the floor show. It gets worse.

My knee improved in the shower, it seems to prefer heat, but I did ice it too. At first, it was excruciating. If I straighten my leg and flex my toes up, heel down, then I can walk on it. No bending allowed. Cane too. If it spasms, ditto. Contract toes up (no ballet moves!) I can bend it to 45* (almost). I can only hold toes flexed for so long. Getting rather good at odd isolated moves—those years of dance when I was young...good old psoas for lifting. Other leg to lift or reposition leg. Very glad to be limber right now. I look like an odd stork, when I move—everything is an economy of movement. Every move is premeditated. Pain is a quick teacher. I was terrified of being busted by my grannie, so I hid all my injuries.

What I've learned: brooms make good crutches—especially when you’ve left the crutches on the other side of the room.Dirt on the floor really bothers me when I can't move fast. Broom crutch is doubly useful. Canes need leashes—they tend to get away. Scrunchies make good leashes. With one hand, it's hard to carry plates, cups. Jamjar glasses, and an apron to stash gell icepack and food is good. In other words, I look ridiculous. I also need milk. Don't know if I can fathom trying to drive to the store. Clearly not working today. Or tomorrow. I’m doing this alone, Neil is still in Scotland.

I carefully plan all forays to the kitchen & loo. Scope of my limited world horizon. What I don't get is how easily I become tired. I guess I'm masking the pain so I don't feel it and it's a lot of work. Sh*ty, forgot to take ibuprofin this AM and it's time for round 2. Playing catch up with da meds. My knee feels like it's made of lead. Heavy, hard to bend.

I have to hobble into work & file a report, Will try & go to Dr tomorrow, and yes, I'd love to borrow some crutches, if they don't give me some. The locked knee with toe to ceiling trick is like a natural immobilizing splint. So that suggests meniscus. Phew! Doable. Shouldn't have ignored the pain Friday. We tomboys who grew up with the no pain, no gain attitude don't know when to say Uncle! When I was a child, I broke my left arm and never told anyone—nut until I was being X-rayed after an accident in 1997, that I knew about it. Stoic, stiff upper lip, and all that.

I hadn't counted on exhaustion from pain. Working up courage to go to Urgent Care Clinic. A two-hour wait. Reading opportunity! Nearly finished me off for the day to go to work & get the paperwork. Can only escape pain by keeping knee locked and toes up—as if to do leg lifts. Counter intuitive. Otherwise it's excruciating pain. Waiting for bu to kick in before I attempt to drive. Hard to bend leg to get into the car!

Catch-22. Morning chores made me nauseous (from pain), and I can't take any ibuprofin until I eat—and the thought of eating is—ugh. So the pain continues. First time ice has felt good on the knee. Today I can begin to use heat. Dr gave me cool icepack and heating pad with velcro! OK, that's done.

One week later...

Yup, Kevin McConnell was right. Torn meniscus. I'm in love with Polar Frost gel. Swelling is going down—knee looks almost normal. But I'm not supposed to put any weight on it. No can do. Too disorganized on two crutches. But one crutch is good, even better than the cane—which I favored until today.

I am now able to hobble around the house sans crutches, but need to bring them on outings. The PT taped my knee—amazingly simple process—an x around the kneecap on either side mimics the tendons/ligaments and adds stabilization to the knee. It looks like I'm wearing a bizarre form of painter's masking tape art! Just call me the Hobbl-it.

Facebook request for baseball terminology

I was in need of baseball metaphors, similes and prosaic sayings for a poetry class (funded by the SF Jr Giants). I'd been making baseball word cards all night but am running out of ideas. So I posted on Facebook and it was still garnering comments eleven days later. I kept some of the best comments.