Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
So why is this up on a Monday? And why is there a February date?
A month ago, Black Byrd was kind enough to host Stone Soup while I was away. The last time I couldn't host, Toni Bee took my spot, and I followed up with a Croutons poem based on what she filmed. In Black Byrd's case, her friend had filmed everything, and I watched it in order to make sure I had seen everyone who read.
I wanted to write the poem the Friday after she had hosted, but life got in the way. Additionally, over the last few weeks, life has really gotten in the way. Luckily, in between stockpiling food and helping my girlfriend prepare for remote teaching, I finally got to listen to the entire show this past weekend. Black Byrd did a great job, and my poem, a month late, isn't as fitting a tribute. On the other hand, with not much of any poetry going on, it might be a good thing that I waited until now. Thanks for reading.
One More Survival Guide
Take full advantage
of your freedom to fly
so long as you remember
your own rules of gravity.
Tally the noises
of each catastrophe.
Make own alphabet,
write over permanent record.
It was already written
before you lived, footprints
traced before fist walk,
a fitting forced.
Some lack substance
to make own tracks,
following you,
your children.
Keep to the level
of dirt. It's only there
you have any hope
of hitching a rainbow.
Persist, persist,
and they'll be shaken off.
Being led to the altar
is not fundamental
to running from it.
Sprint off early.
You're already set
with clerical grace.
Special thanks to David Miller, Navah The Buddaphliii, Swae Lee, Al, James Van Looy and special guest host Black Byrd.
traced before fist walk,
a fitting forced.
Some lack substance
to make own tracks,
following you,
your children.
Keep to the level
of dirt. It's only there
you have any hope
of hitching a rainbow.
Persist, persist,
and they'll be shaken off.
Being led to the altar
is not fundamental
to running from it.
Sprint off early.
You're already set
with clerical grace.
 |
| I don't have a copy of the open mic list. Instead, here's a photo. |
Special thanks to David Miller, Navah The Buddaphliii, Swae Lee, Al, James Van Looy and special guest host Black Byrd.
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