(I am currently taking a free online poetry workshop through the California Institute of the Arts. It is a ton of fun and one more way for me to waste time and not do the things I should be doing! I’d like to share a poem I just wrote in response to a prompt – because prompts, aka assignments, often push a person to write in ways that they would not usually, if left to their own inclinations. This particular prompt was to write a lipogram, i.e. a poem in which one restricts oneself to using only words containing a single vowel. I chose to use the vowel “O”. As I explored O-only words, the topic, which must have been lurking in my soul somewhere, began to emerge. I would enjoy any commentary that might develop – not as in “good poem” or “bad poem”, but whether it provoked any thought or soul-movement. It is, of course, a very different thing to author a poem than it is to read it. So, if you are inclined, let it bounce around for a while and comment if you wish – or not.)
 

 

“God’s so good”,

croons soft solo

comforts crowds forlorn.

monks vow cool grottos

gold cross sold to borrow

mood for noon or sloth.

 

“no – not good!” scoffs

bold son of strong throngs.

“bombs drop hollow horror.

cold world howls sorrow.”

droop, not bow, for doctor’s clock.

for poor told wormwood blossoms.

 

lost or torn, Book’s plot not known.

John’s Word, from womb to tomb, now

Son of Sorrow, holds root of rod or rot,

food, fool, forsook crown for thorns.

cock crows so cost of door most mock.

mob chops wood for scorn of “Lord”.

 

flood of blood stops on tomb’s cold brow.

fold flock sorrows, holds for tomorrow.

morn follows moon, fog prowls low,

torch longs slow, rock block worry to go.

knock cocoon door, no knob – so bloom –

song grown, Word known – flown to Joy.