"Bygone"

A cento is a poem built of lines by other poets, with surprising results. My effort, "Bygone," has multiple voices but one source: an anthology I've kept since high school, New Voices in American Poetry. Poets include Alice Walker (who I studied with one summer at Sarah Lawrence College), Thomas Lux (professor at SLC who I did not study with, sadly), Louise Glück, Charles Simic, and others. See how a new poem is born from these greats: 

https://theamericanscholar.org/come-live-with-me-and-be-my-love-2/

P.S. I'm thrilled to be given the title "NLP all-star" by the master of poetry prompts, David Lehman. 

Cheers,

Charise

 

"the little things, mon amour"

the little things, mon amour 

It’s an inside joke how you say “armoire” 

for “chaise”—

how you speak for the arm of a seat 

like anatomy well-illustrated 

in medical books you fetch

from foreign antique shops, 

a habit that’s getting costly, 

maybe out of hand, 

but we own the armoire 

as well as the chaise—

which is often an auto 

corrected form of my name.

~CMH

This poem is in response to a prompt concerning mistakes and typos from "Next Line, Please" of The American Scholar. 

"Wanting"

This is a piece I wrote in response to a prompt from David Lehman in his column "Next Line, Please" of The American Scholar. The prompt itself is as follows: use one of five Proverbs of Hell by William Blake as your "point of departure." My choice? "The nakedness of woman is the work of God." What immediately came to mind was to flip this statement, resulting in "God is the work of nakedness of woman." Controversial? My premise is that Blake's "God" is set in a historical context which allows for interpretation. My astute fellow writers, and Lehman himself, suggest omitting the first line altogether, ultimately freeing my poem from its initial departure. Would you? 

From "Next Line, Please" March 21

The first line of Charise Hoge’s “Wanting” provoked debate. Was it merely a rhetorical trick?

God is the work of nakedness of woman.

A piece of work, this god. Woman sheds

her corset, crinoline, bustle, chemise,

petticoat and drawers–so to soften god’s

vengeful manner. She cuts off her hair

and peels back her skin smooth as a grape.

She dissolves into pulp. Not even god

can find her. But wants to.

Here's the link to the column for more:

https://theamericanscholar.org/the-nakedness-of-woman/ 

Art to Art

Photo by Salwan Georges, The Washington Post

Sandbags are used to protect this monument in Odessa, Ukraine. At the same time, the installation of sandbags makes a new statement of art. It's arresting. 

I'm thinking that an ekphrastic challenge is at hand. Write a poem that speaks to this image, art to art. Will you take up the poetry prompt? It's the first prompt of this blog, probably way overdue.

Warm wishes,

Charise