Before getting into the cool news, I just wanted to let everyone know who's been looking for the rest of the April Highlights (Days 21-30) that I am still going to post them. I've just been busy supremo working on the 2008 Poet's Market, which will be going to production on June 5. Of course, the one complicating factor is that I'll be out the entire last week of May because of Memorial Day and the BookExpo America/Writer's Digest Books writer's conference in Los Angeles, California. So the highlights are coming--just trying to fit 'em in with the rest of my "day job" stuff.

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So now on to this really cool newspaper blackout poetry stuff done by writer/artist Austin Kleon, who is based in Austin, Texas. (Note: It's funny how cool news travels. For instance, this was passed on to me by WritersDigest.com editor Brian Klems through HOW magazine editor Bryn Mooth who heard it on NPR--one more reason to support public radio, right?)

Anyway, Kleon grabs the newspaper and a permanent marker and starts scribbling out words until a poem emerges. In many cases, the poems actually turn out quite beautiful.

Check them out at: http://www.austinkleon.com/category/newspaper-blackout-poems/.

If you want a Weekend Warrior poetry prompt, this is a definitely a good exercise: Buy a local newspaper and sculpt poems out of newsstories. If you come up with anything good, post them in the comments below.

I had to drive into work in a steady rain this morning. Those who know me very well know that I loathe driving on the Interstate in the rain, because of a hydroplaning experience I had several years ago in southern Kentucky. Ever since that crash (no one was seriously injured), I've had this phobia when it comes to driving in inclement weather.

Which leads me to today's prompt, I want you to write a poem that deals with one or more of your own phobias. Or--if you are truly without fear--write about someone else's phobias. Or--if you and everyone you know is without fear--write about an imagined phobia (or write about my phobia of driving in inclement weather).

Here's my attempt, which actually deals with one of my other phobias (yes, I'm suddenly feeling like Charlie Brown, who carries around the fear of everything): heights.

"Control"

Rollercoasters, elevators,
unenclosed stair cases,
railings, cliffs, airplanes--
I'm afraid of how I have
no control over gravity.
If I fall, I can only fall
and let myself be caught
by the earth below. It's
simple really, but I worry
about the "what if"s when
I should just enjoy the ride.

Thanks to all of you, the April PAD Challenge was a phenomenal success. In fact, I think there's no way around making this an annual event moving forward. You can't even know how honored you've all made me feel throughout the entire month, and I'm thrilled to see that a supportive community has developed.

To keep that community going, I asked WritersDigest.com editor Brian Klems to set up a Poetic Asides specific group in their forum located at http://forum.writersdigest.com. If you have an account, just log in and click on the Poetic Asides link. If you don't have an account, it's super easy to create one--and it's totally F-R-E-E (and it don't even cost you any money). I have a welcome message up for the group, but you can begin your own topics and start chattering away. I'm sure there will be some crossover between the new forum group and the blog moving forward, too.

Also, on that main forum page, you may notice there are genre-specific critique groups in Critique Central. One of those groups is labeled poetry, and that's where you, umm, can critique, umm, poetry. Yeah, pretty obvious, I know.

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As far as the blog and prompts, I've decided I will continue to do prompts, though not at the breakneck pace of one each day. I'm planning on providing a prompt each Wednesday throughout the year--figuring there's no better way to get over the hump of the workweek than a little prompting and poeming. I hope that'll be a good pace for everyone until next April.

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I'm considering the possibility of critiquing one poem per week. More info on this later. But stay tuned--and prod me if I seem to forget about it.

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The Poet's Market newsletter is going to make a comeback starting later this month. If you wish to receive the free monthly e-mail newsletter, you can sign up at www.poetsmarket.com.

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On May 21, plan on attending the Poetic Asides 2008 April PAD Challenge awards ceremony--at this blog. I'll be recognizing those who completed the challenge, as well as some extra nods and pats on the backs and such.

Plus, at that time, I'll also be handing out awards to poets. Those who completed the challenge will be able to receive one or both of two awards: one is a badge that the magazine design group put together for poets who want to put the award on their blogs and/or Web sites (to show that you completed the challenge); two is a certificate that the book design group is working on that you can print up and tuck away somewhere safe (or proudly frame and display).

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On May 22, I'll be answering poetry questions all day somewhere in WD forum. More details to come on this as the event approaches.

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Okay, this post is long enough now, I guess. Let me know if you have any questions, concerns, comments, etc. And again, thank you so much for being so awesome!

So this is it: the final prompt of the April PAD Challenge. We've made it; we've made it. I'd be sad that it's all over, but I think in some ways we're only beginning. (For more on that, check back tomorrow when I do the April PAD Challenge Wrap-Up.) Today, I want you to finish your poem, thrust your open hands high in the air, and say, "Go me! I did it!" (Or something to that effect, I understand that poets can be a reserved bunch--so maybe a simple smirk and fist clench will do the job just as well.)

The main thing is to realize that you accomplished something great in participating throughout the month. After all, you should now have 30 (or more) poems to play with and revise. But here I am trying to stall on the final prompt of the day--not wanting this month to end. :)

And today's prompt is probably predictable if you go back to Day 1's prompt, which was about beginnings and firsts. Day 30's prompt is to write a poem about endings, finishes, finales, etc. Because we've reached the end: great job!

Here's my poem for the day:

"Saturday night in Clifton"

After an evening of perspiration and
secondhand smoke inhalation, the lights turn on
as men with SECURITY written across their
backs herd us out into the street. We're pumped up;
we still want more (encore! encore!); but the planet
continues its mad spin. So I twist myself out
of the loitering mob and sneak down a side street--
head buzzing with the crush of mosh pit memories,
the push and pull of sweaty strangers united
for music adoration. For a moment, I
feel everything is possible, but then an
overwhelming sadness washes over me: the
vacuum between then and now. I walk until I
come to a sign that reads: KEEP MOVING. So I do.

Yay! So many of you have made it past the sestina! And I'm still alive, though I'm sure many of you no longer consider me your friend. ;)

It's nice to put in a very tough exercise every so often (don't worry, the final two days should be a little more relaxed). In fact, with the weather getting so nice around Southwestern Ohio the past week or two, exercise (the physical kind) has been big on my mind.

Way back in March, I must've known I'd be in an exercising mood, because the first "Two for Tuesday" prompt is to write a poem about exercise. For most people, you either love it or hate it. If you do exercise regularly, it would be interesting to know whether you do it for the end result (that is, good health, a trim physique, etc.) or the process itself (just because it feels good to move).

Prompt #2 is a little more open-ended for people who don't have any emotions whatsoever attached to exercise. For this prompt, I want you to write a poem in the 2nd person.

Here's my poem of the day (combining the two prompts into one poem):

"How to go running on an August morning"

Start off with some stretches. Do your legs
first, then your arms. Walk to your starting point
and begin with a light jog. Let your muscles and
lungs ease into a rhythm. Focus on keeping
your wrists and hands slack. Relax your shoulders
and bottom lip. After the first mile, lengthen
your stride while keeping your breathing balanced.
Listen to the birds. Keep your head straight.
Relax your shoulders, your hands, your bottom lip.
Focus on your next step, not on the finish line;
stay within yourself. After the fifth mile, pull
off your shirt. Feel the sun on your skin as it begins
to warm the earth. Imagine you are winning a race.
Imagine someone is only a few steps behind;
lose that person. Relax your shoulders but keep
up a fast pace. Do this through the finish line.

Today's prompt is to use a photograph to create a poem. You can raid your dusty photo albums, look through your daily newspaper, scour the Internet, etc. But you must use a photograph. Them is the rules, yo!

(Sorry for the brevity today, but my book is soooo close to being done!)

Here's my poem for the day:

"Take a picture; it'll last longer."

She smiles at me through the mirror
applying her makeup with a towel
wrapped around her hair. She's dressed
for the office, and I haven't decided
upon my Manhattan game plan while
she's out. She's wearing a green sweater
pulled over a white button-down, and
I say, "I love you," before pressing
the button, waiting for the flash.

It's hard to believe that a week from today I'll be posting the last prompt of the month. We're already almost a month older than we were at the end of March. Time just continues to fly by--even in a poetry challenge, huh?

Well, today's prompt is sympathetic of the fact that time continues its march and that things continue to change and stay the same all at once. Today's prompt is to write about getting older.

No matter your age, everyone gets older with every. single. second. and. heart. beat. Seriously, even my 4-year-old laments over how he's getting older and misses the good old days of not going to preschool and having "to learn stuff."

So, you can lament over your glory days, express your insecurities of being in transition, or brag about how you're at the perfect age to live life completely content (lucky you). I'm guessing y'all will have a lot of fun with this one.

Here's my poem for the day:

"Today"

"Your hard work will pay off today."
                       -Fortune Cookie

Sometimes I wonder if today is the day
that everything comes together, and I
get the raise and the girl and the parade
through downtown. Is this when I get
my "pay off" for trying? But then, I think
maybe my "pay off" comes every day.
Maybe it's simply the process of getting
from here to there. Maybe my "pay off"
is hard work and two boys who love me,
that moment outside the laundromat
late at night, listening to her voice and
the stillness of a spring evening suddenly
broken by bikers cruising the streets
on their hogs. I'm still just a teenager
at heart and in love with the world, but
sometimes I wonder if today is the day.

Today is Earth Day! Yay!

I think most people can agree that this planet is a good thing. However, wars are fought over how we should use it and/or live on it. So, today's "2 for Tuesday" prompts will play off the opposing sides of the environmental coin.

Prompt 1: Write a nature poem. This can about how much you love or hate nature. It can be optimistic or not so. You can write about global warming or about that time when a deer walked up so close you could almost pet it. I'll leave the specifics up to you, but it should be about nature.

Prompt 2: Write an industrial poem. This can be a poem about the benefits of transportation or the joys of urban living. It can cover technology, the comfort of cruising around in your car, etc. Of course, as with the nature poem, you can be optimistic or not so. I'll leave that up to y'all.

Here's my poem for today:

"It takes a car"

to get me there. And I walk along
a paved path before reaching
the post with green, red and blue
dots. The path becomes dirt
and rocks. My stride lengthens as
I head downhill toward the creek
that's perfect for wading in during
the summer. And I breathe deep,
realizing I can't hear any cars
or smell any exhaust. These trails
quiet my sense of anxiety, but
it takes a car to get here.

Today's prompt requires that you do a little snooping. That's right: I want you to write a "snooping" poem today. Basically, you need to write a poem that incorporates a bit of overheard dialogue (can be in real life or off the television) or even a quote taken from a news story online (if you happen to be a hermit).

If you're not a recluse, then venture out to places where people are: grocery stores, malls, college campuses, cinemas, airports, post offices, etc. This is the perfect excuse for you to be among the people. And once among the people, don't worry about socializing; instead, listen until you have something that makes you want to write.

Here's my poem for the day (with quoted material snatched from co-workers this morning--used in an entirely different context, of course):

"The Pickpockets"

We gathered late at night
and looked over our collections:

a few wallets, some watches,
a very moving memoir

about a man who changed his life
while conquering his fears

by accepting the fact
all people have flaws.

We could definitely relate,
but when Sally's turned out pockets

once again revealed only lint,
one of us yelled out,

"She hasn't been trying, has she?"
Then, we set in upon her--

knowing what must be cut loose
to strengthen the pack.

We are now 20 days into the challenge! Woo-hoo! And spring has definitely sprung here in Ohio. It's incredible. Since Thursday, I've been getting out every day and playing disc golf and trail hiking. As soon as I finish this prompt-poem thing-a-ma-gig, I'm gonna get back out there.

Now today's prompt is one you've either been eagerly anticipating and wondering, "Where the heck is it," all month, or it's one you've been quietly noting hasn't been prompted and crossing your fingers you can make it through the month without. But this kind of poem is what got me into writing poetry seriously. That's right...

...today's prompt is to write a Love poem with a capital "L" as in a loooooove poem. Think about wooing; think about being wooed; and then, write!

Here's my poem for the day:

"This Morning"

-for Tammy F. Trendle

The birds chant awake the dandelions
and flowers. They raise the grass blades
from their winter nocturne. We are
foolish to want more, but we listen
to the birds and know: It is natural to
want, and things will always happen
as they should.

Good morning!

Today's prompt will require that you use a little memory, but not your own; because for today's prompt you need to write a poem about a moment (or moments) you can't remember yourself that are about yourself. I think everyone has these stories about when you were a child, or when you were drunk, or when you were talking in your sleep, or when you were in a coma (hopefully not too many fall into this category actually).

If you need to jog your memory of things you can't personally remember, call up a friend or relative. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to recount those embarrassing moments for you.

For instance, we have a family reunion every year on Labor Day weekend up in northwest Indiana for my mom's side of the family. There are usually more than 100 family members in attendance, and they ALL know the "tree story" about when I was three years old. You see, I was at one of my aunt's houses and had to use the restroom, but they were all full. So my grandparents told me to go outside and relieve myself behind the tree. So my three-year-old self marched out there and rounded the tree one full circle and shouted back at the house, "Where's the 'behind' of this tree?"

Ah, sweet memories. I don't remember it personally, but every year on Labor Day weekend, 100+ people are ready to remind me. 

And with that, here's my poem for the day:

"Blood"

My brother hung upside down
screaming his head off while my
face was covered in blood,
gushing from my eyebrow. But
I didn't cry--just kept touching
my face. Maybe in shock of
the closeness of pain. Maybe
why I wasn't afraid to hug
strangers at King's Island as
a child. After hugging people
in Yogi Bear and Fred Flintstone
suits, it probably only made
sense to hug others I'd never
met. With a big smile on my
face. Something people always
notice even when I don't know
I'm doing it. One night, I scared
my wife by calling out in my sleep
that Saddam Hussein was hiding
in our trashcan. Who knows
what I was dreaming? But then,
maybe it made complete sense
like the time I tried going pee
behind the tree at my aunt's
only to ask, "Where's the behind
to this tree?" Something my
family won't let me forget.
Like this scar on my eyebrow
reminding me the memory of
our blood.

I'll pick back up on the highlights on Monday. Spent last night working on my Writer's Market book, which goes to production next Friday. By the way, isn't it cool? We've made it 60% of the way through April--once you write today's poem. I'm sure anyone who's made it this far will be able to cross the finish line on the 30th.

Today's prompt is to take a line of my choosing and incorporate it into your poem in some way. You can use the line as the title of your poem, as the last line, as the first line, or even drop it somewhere in the middle--but you must use the line somewhere. And a special note to you "rule benders": No, you cannot break up the line into individual words or phrases. The whole line must be used, though you can definitely insert a linebreak or two if you wish.

So, what's the line anyway? It is: There is no connection.

No connection to what? And who is speaking? And in what context? These are questions you should ponder before tackling this prompt.

Here's my poem for the day:

"Convergence"

We arrive late in Atlanta to learn,
"There is no connection available
from Hartsfield-Jackson to LaGuardia
tonight." Some of us head to hotels
as others loiter, stranded south
of the Mason-Dixon line. A man
holding his cell says, "I can't talk
in here. There's no connection."
One woman tells another, "It tears
me up to hurt him like I do, but
whenever we're together there is
no connection. It's like, 'Okay.
Let's get this over with already.'"
Those of us who stay and don't
talk listen to those of us who do.
This is what happens when things
don't go according to plan. One
person unloads all his frustrations;
another acts as if she might be
somewhat interested; and there is
no connection between the two.

Before getting to the prompt, I think it would be nice of us all to send a little goodwill in Elizabeth Keggi's direction. Her poems have been highlighted a few times already this month (on days 1, 2 and 5), and she's having surgery today that will force her into a game of PAD catch up later this month.

Thinking of others is always beneficial--to both yourself and those you're thinking of; in fact, thinking of others has a ripple effect that often spreads beyond the initial parties. Even in poetry, it is sometimes a nice exercise to consciously take ourselves out of our poems.

So today's prompt is fairly straight forward: Write a poem in the 3rd person. You can describe a scene, an event, whatever. But there's to be no use of "I," "me," "my," etc.--not even "you" or "we." No, keep yourself completely out of this poem. I'll leave the subject of your poem up to you.

(Note: There is a way, of course, to include yourself. You can write about yourself as "he" or "she" depending on your gender. If you would normally write, I woke up in the morning, then for this prompt write, He woke up in the morning. It's an effective trick for people who just can't stop writing about themselves. This method also distances the poets from themselves, which can be interesting.) 

Here's my poem for the day:

"Time spent with boys"

The clock erupts with noise
distracting him mid-sentence.
Eight o'clock always surprises
him as he reads stories to his
boys--both propped up on their
pillows and probing for answers
to the story behind the story,
as well as the intentions of
the author. He tells them his
best guesses and avoids making
things up--most of the time.

I don't want to alarm you, but today's challenge was a bit of a challenge for me this morning. Hopefully, you won't struggle as much as I did. But even if you do, that's why it's called a challenge, I guess. Plus, we're like only trying to get our rough drafts done in April anyway. Then, we can revise and/or toss stuff in May and beyond, right? Right.

Oh yeah, the prompt for the day. Well, it's something I'm calling the "Alfred Hitchcock" poem, because I want you to write a poem that has a twist near the end. For instance, write a poem about talking to your best friend and then let us know at the end that your best friend is actually a sock puppet on your left hand--maybe even add to the intrigue by making your arch nemesis your right hand.

Of course, there are lots of ways to approach this one. What gave me trouble was figuring out how to do the twist at the end. Finally, what helped me was to think of how I wanted the poem to end and write to that ending--using an indirect route, of course.

(Note: I just began and ended that paragraph with "of course.")

And with that, here's my poem for the day:

"A call late at night"

Hey, baby. I'm guessing you're asleep;
I hope that you are. I'm so thankful
for you and sorry I have to whisper.

You're always so good to me, and I
wish you were here now. But if you
wake up and hear this message, please
don't call me back, because I'm hiding:

I think someone is in my house.

Half. Way. There. That's where we're at after you finish today's prompt. Somehow we've made it--huffing and puffing--to the top of the hill and starting tomorrow we'll be running downhill to the finish line. Soooo...let's get to today's prompt, which is a "Two for Tuesday" prompt actually.

Prompt #1: Write an insult poem. There aren't really any rules attached to the insult poem, but it's usually done in good fun. If you write one, you can often open yourself up to a retaliatory insult poem. And that can lead to the equivalent of an insult poetry food fight.

Prompt #2: I've been trying to avoid mentioning it, but today is Tax Day here in the States. So it's time to either file them taxes or file for an extension--or just continue procrastinating, I guess ("Whatever floats your boat," as my father would always say.). Anyway, the second prompt is to write a poem that deals with paying your taxes and/or meeting deadlines.

Here's my poem (predictably associated with the first prompt, since I'm all about verbal food fighting):

 "Smoke and mirrors"

My mama always said,
"If you don't have anything nice to say,
don't say anything at all."
And that's been great advice,
helping me get all the friends I've got,
avoid petty conflicts,
and find a steady happiness through all life's ups and downs--
but let's make one thing clear:
My mama ain't ever met the likes of you;
she ain't ever seen your rain cloud prophesies,
your blame shifting two step,
or your sanded down points that lead nowhere.
You've got answers but no meaning;
you have an image with no identity;
and everyone who doesn't agree with you is wrong.
Here's my advice, boy:
Next time they all gang up on you without giving a fair shake,
save up all your money to buy the largest mirror you can find;
then, use it.

Even before some of the comments left yesterday, I've noticed there is a community forming with this April PAD Challenge. Many of you have thanked me, but you should really be thanking yourselves.

A community is only as strong as those who are a part of it. Many of you have posted every single day and left encouraging words and praise for your fellow poets. I'm not doing that; you are; and I'm very proud of you all.

Personally, I think it would be a wasted opportunity--for all of us--to assign writing poetry regularly to one month out of the year. So I'm going to check into a few different options to keep our group together beyond April. There are already some great ideas in yesterday's comments--plus, I've had a few rolling around in my head. So together, I'm sure we'll come up with something amazing. More on this soon, but I know you're all ready to get Monday started off right with today's prompt.

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So, today's prompt is actually inspired by a song I love by Feist. The song is called "How My Heart Behaves," and the prompt for today is to write a poem with the title "How (fill in the blank) behaves"--with the poem inspired by whatever you put in that blank. For instance, you could have a poem titled "How Mr. T's mohawk behaves" or "How the homeless man on 9th Street behaves." Have fun with this one (I know you will).

Here's my poem for the day:

"How the playground of my mind behaves"

The girls are full of worry
beside the teeter
                        totter
afraid that Billy won't be stopping by.

And the boys are playing football
as the teachers fret and fuss:
Are there going to be any broken bones today?

Behind them, the bully
does his daily milk money shake down
and punches his sidekick in the arm.

There's a co-ed game of 4-square,
some girls with their jumping rope,
and boys wanting to hang from the monkey bars.

Beneath the hot metal slide
no one rides in summer,
Billy sits kissing his favorite girl
until the bell sounds for them all to go inside.

Heart. There has been a lot of heart on display in your poems this month. I just wanted to get that out there and say, "Thank you." It's been a real pleasure this month to wonder how you'll put life to each of my prompts, and y'all never let me down. And I think we're synchronizing a bit.

For instance, Jay Sizemore sent me a message on Facebook late last night mentioning it would be really cool if I could put together a music-response prompt someday this month. I'm glad he thinks so, because...

Today's prompt is to write a poem based off your response to a song. You get to pick the song, but I ask that you please indicate which song sparked the poem. You can do this by quoting a line or two from the song between the title and poem--as I've done a few times this month; or you can just put the song title and artist in parentheses after the poem.

I'm really interested in reading your poems for today's prompt, but I'm just as interested in seeing which songs everyone chooses. As you may have noticed from some of my recent poems quoting songs by The Beatles, I've been listening to Abbey Road quite a bit lately, which is why today's music-response poem is inspired by The Shins' "Sleeping Lessons."

"After April, there's always May"

"So enlist every ounce of your bright blood and off with their heads."
                              -the Shins, "Sleeping Lessons"

I wait for dandelions
and dream of seeds spreading
yellow through the grass.
There are reasons to forgive
invasion and the messing
up of perfection. Lawns
and lazy afternoons,
my thumb against stem,
want to break loose.