Progressive Poem -- Line #8

Go ahead. Skip to the bottom of the post. Read my line. I know you want to. :-)

Short introduction for the uninitiated: Progressive poem, written one line at a time, one day at a time for the month of April. Tradition started by Irene Latham. Check the sidebar to follow along as the poem grows.

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Didn't Heidi get us started off with a line full of pure possibility? She introduced our character.

I’m fidget, friction, ragged edges—

Then Tabatha gave us some show-not-tell action to help us get to know our character better. We've got a storyteller here (or at least, a story sprouter...hmm...a magical plant?).

I sprout stories that frazzle-dazzle,

Along comes Dori, who takes the word stories and cracks it open just a bit for us.

stories of castles, of fires that crackle,

Michelle linked the words fire and stories in a surprising way. Is our character a dragon?

with dragonwords that smoke and sizzle.

Diane established stanzas of four lines and a bit of conflict...

But edges sometimes need sandpaper,

...and Kat elaborated. (No, Kat, we won't change your Aussie spelling of vapour!)

like swords need stone and clouds need vapour.

Yesterday, Irene got our character ready for action...but without armour (don't you love how she gave Kat that wink?!)

So I shimmy out of my spurs and armour

And now I'm left to decide the action our character might take. Or would take if this were my own poem and not this big, messy, fun, collaborative, surprising thing it is every year  (this is our SEVENTH!!).

Our character might be a girl. That happens a lot in stories. So our character might be a boy. A boy who does atypical things. A boy who is searching for his true identity, who is willing to lose the frazzle-dazzle storytelling and the costume he's wearing, in order to try living honestly in his own skin. Yeah. I like that. For right now, in this small moment of Line Eight, that's who this poem is about for me. So what gift can I give to this child, what gift for all children who are in that tricky spot of growing up, when they have to take off the princess dress or the super hero cape and find out who they really are? 

(There are a lot of F words early on, and a lot of S words in the past 5 lines. Did you notice that? And we don't seem to be keeping to any syllable count or regular rhyme scheme...Can you tell I'm writing this line in my head as I write this post?)

facing the day as my fickle, freckled self.

Yes! I love it! And yes, I did go read Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkins before I chose my words because it occurred to me that this character could be part of what Hopkins was praising -- so I borrowed "fickle, freckled" from him. I don't think he'd mind! And lookie there -- I used F sounds and S sounds in my line!! (A peek at the final edits: The line was originally "ready to face the day as my fickle, freckled self." Our character was going to FACE the day, but I went to the thesaurus and decided on BRAVE as a synonym that packs just a bit more punch, even though I'd have to lose an F sound. Then I read through the whole poem, including my line, and the rhythm seemed off, plus, I really really loved that F sound. So I went back to FACE the day. Then I had to consider the necessity of the word and...keep? lose? keep? lose? We already have a but and a so in this stanza...I'm going for the verb, folks! Fidget, friction, fickle, freckled...say that five times fast!)

Go forth, brave character! Whether or not you turn out to be seeking your true identity, or if other amazing adventures await you in this poem, we've launched you out the door. Have fun, Linda! Give us hints as to what THE DAY will hold for our character, whoever he or she or he/she might be!



I’m fidget, friction, ragged edges—
I sprout stories that frazzle-dazzle,
stories of castles, of fires that crackle,
with dragonwords that smoke and sizzle.


But edges sometimes need sandpaper,
like swords need stone and clouds need vapour.
So I shimmy out of my spurs and armour

facing the day as my fickle, freckled self.