Two weeks ago, we began a journey in which each step lead us to yet another line to another stanza, beginning with the opening line: "I spend my days in an expanse of spirits." This week, the dedicated writers of NLP continue to build not one, but two poems.
The opening stanzas, posted last week, are composites of lines provided by Pamela Joyce and Koahakumele (poem A), and Jay Ronson and Patricia Wallace (poem B). For next week, quizmaster Lehman seeks a third stanza and a tentative title for each poem.
And just to make it more interesting, David Lehman has given us multiple possibilities within poems A and B. One possibility, which we shall affectionately call "A1," joins Angela Ball’s lines 5-7 and David's line 8, with this most enchanting result:
I spend my days in an expanse of spirits,
vodka, scotch, tequila, gin—pick a poison then— [Pamela Joyce]
then spent, I slept; of reality dreamt;
and by mourning, could find no rest. [Koahakumele]When night unstops its cross-boned bottle,
the dream: he killed a child by accident;
I protected him; even now, parents wait [Angela Ball]
where sat the two children we didn’t have. [David Lehman]
Not only are there the allure of dreams and mourning, but the introduction of parents and unborn children, which can only mean one thing: high levels of drama.
Comprised of lines from Stephanie Cohen, Charise Hoge, Donald LaBranche, and Pamela Joyce, "A2" extends the cocktail motif, incorporates the blackbirds from poem B, and welcomes a second type of “spirits.”
I spend my days in an expanse of spirits,
vodka, scotch, tequila, gin—pick a poison then— [Pamela Joyce]
then spent, I slept; of reality dreamt;
and by mourning, could find no rest. [Koahakumele]When, like a thieved wallet, the house emptied, [Stephanie Cohen]
we saw the blackbird-clustered face of night. [Donald LaBranche]
No absolution. Spirits, bring me absinthe. [Pamela Joyce]
a doleful pour not tasted before. [Charise Hoge]
As for the B poem, B1 combines two lines from Christa Whitsett Overbeck and singles from Beth Dufour and Stephanie Cohen:
I spent my days in an expanse of spirit,
gave thanks to God for enemies with bad aim, [Jay Ronson]
as snow fell into the trees and blackbirds clustered
thick as leaves on the limbs, glossy shades of night. [Patricia Wallace]When feathered darkness lifted up her hood
about my head, I saw that this was glory, too; [Christa Overbeck]
returning birds, retreating foes, [Beth Dufour]
the ache you blame on age and episodic sleep. [Stephanie Cohen]
I love the description, "feathered darkness," as it echos the motif of the birds while furthering the plot: the feathered darkness lifts the veil (or the hood) and provides us with a realization of glory.
For B2, Christa’s striking lines form the sandwich inside which live lines from Millicent Caliban and Pamela Joyce S:
I spent my days in an expanse of spirit,
gave thanks to God for enemies with bad aim, [Jay Ronson]
as snow fell into the trees and blackbirds clustered
thick as leaves on the limbs, glossy shades of night. [Patricia Wallace]When feathered darkness lifted up her hood [Christa Overbeck]
I worshipped in the temple of her trees. [Millicent Caliban]
Blackbirds scattered at the blast. The snow now [Pamela Joyce S.]
about my head, I saw that this was glory too [Christa Overbeck]
Here, the blackbirds gain more significance, and the winter landscape glows with divinity.
Now you have four options. Please submit either a three-line or four-line stanza—and, if you wish, a tentative working title for the poem of your choice.
Visit the American Scholar's page to enter your candidate!
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