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 The Party.
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 The Party
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 Garden by Moonlight by Amy Lowell will appear at the end of each line of this poem. I will title The Party.
The Party The world is filled with ‘if only’ Enough to run over the brim and the End result matters only a little Excuses cover all our faces With snarky smirks of Satisfaction between the Lines standing outside the Ladies’ And the party filled with delight We dance until we are Sore of foot and alert To the ending of the evening and Still the music is starting So we dance awhile only With periods of intermission, while the Air feels as restless as a playful cat That goes prancing and padding Pretending like he is the Panther hidden in the roses
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!
I started participating in NaNoWriMo in 2014 because of a dare. Someone was planning to try the 50,000 words in a month challenge and dared me to participate. I didn’t think the word count was achievable, but I also thought I had nothing to lose if I tried. I barely made it over the finish…
Okay, Word Daddy is missing in action. He must be on another one of his cross-country road trips. I hope his motorcycle breaks down and leaves him stranded in Tucumcari. Sorry, I shouldn’t talk smack about my unreliable muse. I decided to hang out with the Golden Shovel Poems for a while longer. What can…
Keeping a journal has never been one of my strongest pursuits. I find it boring talking about myself for an extended period. This year, I wrote blog entries telling the tales about the things I’ve encountered along my writing road. On this writer’s journey, I’ve run into bumps and got stuck in ditches, and sometimes,…