Okay, I decided to hang with the Golden Shovel Poems longer. I can’t help myself. It’s not my fault there are so many great poets in the world. I’ve used William Blake and Robert Frost for inspiration. It’s time for me to take advantage of one of the women poetresses. When I read Jo Jo Moyes’ The Giver of Stars, I was reminded of Amy Lowell. I read her work in the past and decided to explore her poetry for a while. Therefore, this new poem will be titled Woman’s Danger.
Terrance Hayes invented the Golden Shovel style of poetry. This form of found poetry allows the writer to take a favorite poem and use it to make something original. I experimented with found poetry last year when I wrote Blank Verse poems. Now, I am having fun writing Golden Shovel Poetry.
The rules for writing a Golden Shovel Poem and Woman’s Danger
While researching this style of poetry created by Terrance Hayes, there seem to be four simple rules. You can use as many lines of the poem as you want, and the poem will end with you being your creation. I find this idea interesting. Written below are the three simple rules.
2)Use each word in the line or lines as the end word in your poem. Make sure they stay in order.
3) Construct an entire poem around them. The meaning doesn’t have to be the same.
4) Give the original poet credit who wrote the line or lines you used.
Here are a few quick facts about Amy Lowell. She was the leading poet in the Imaginist School. This woman never attended college and considered herself a social outcast when she was young. She was an avid reader and book collector. Also, she publicly smoked cigars, which was outrageous for a woman then. Pieces of the poem The Blue Scarf by Amy Lowell will appear at the end of each line of this poem. I will title Woman’s Danger .
Woman’s Danger Some welcomes are so warm You can’t run away from The lie behind the smile with a Sensitive instinct of a woman’s Heart, even words so soft And tender pat on her shoulders Warns her of impending danger and Still, she lingers against my Sound advice with cold, desperate fingers Even when she knows she should move on And leave with a plan, get on with it Beyond all the tender caressing. I can’t imagine where The path she took is Worn down to dirt as if she Lost her way and got swallowed in the Dark mist, a trap for a lone woman There is danger for those who Linger too long and wore The road thin by traveling it With the danger and the Fear, leaving her scent Behind for the hunter of To discover and remember her The brave female who lingers Close to the truth and Cares for the fire that drugs I am satisfied it wasn’t me
Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh. To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.
Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!
Therefore, I plan to keep a journal in 2023 to document my progress. I will call this post Entry 277: Search for Stories.
I was reminded of Amy Lowell. I read her work in the past and decided to explore her poetry for a while. Therefore, this new poem will be titled Early Autumn.
Therefore, I plan to keep a journal in 2023 to document my progress. I will call this post Entry 276: A Return to the Short Story.