2016 Found Object Poem Project: Day 4

Are we feeling the burn yet? It's Day 4 of our 2016 daily write-in! This year’s theme is FOUND OBJECTS. We have a new writing prompt for every day in February.My favorite part of this annual project is seeing how the poems, written in response to the same prompt, resonate with each other.For those of you who are new to my blog, please read my introductory post about the February daily write-in. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 1 FOUND OBJECTS at this post.PLEASE NOTE: This year, a few friendly bloggers have volunteered to host a day or two. Tomorrow's post, which is DAY 5, will be at Matt Forrest Esenwine's blog, Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme. Leave your Day 5 responses here, in the comments, as usual. I will get your writing to Matt.FOUND: Desk FanA couple of days ago, I mentioned that the FOUND OBJECT prompts people contributed fell into certain categories. One of those categories is functional objects.The desk fan was sent in by poet Charles Waters. I'm curious to read what everyone came up with in response to an everyday object. Interesting challenge, Charles!I really enjoyed the voice of the character speaking in Jessica Bigi's poem today.Not I Sharifby Jessica BigiFly on the wallI saw nothingI heard nothingHumming of fansEggs firing on the floorShooting sticky wordsLike rattle snakes tonguesPluming clouds of stall sugarsFingers shuffle papersAs I write my namenot I SharifI saw nothingI heard nothingHumming of fansNot I Sharif -Not IFly on the wallWhat a gift to have another one of Diane Mayr's beautifully designed poem-collages today.Before the Electric FanBy Diane MayrThere was a tool farmore powerful than anywith an on/off switch.Simple, easy to operate,the hand fan couldcool the flush on a cheekhide an ironic smileemphasize a pointmask a nervous gesturekeep a young girlgrounded when infatuationthreatened to getthe better of her. And,it was pretty to look at.Playing around with traditional forms is one of my favorite ways to shape an idea or observation into a poem. If you are not familiar with the tightly knit form triolet, read about it at Poets.org. Margaret Simon uses the repeating and rhymed lines to suggest the patterned whirring of a fan.Fan TrioletBy Margaret SimonRusted lines box you in.Clouds of dust dance on air.Blades whistle while you spin.Rusted lines box you inMaking wind, making windbuzz with a flashy fan flair.Rusted lines box you in.Clouds of dust dance on air.Instead of playing around with form today, I decided to try a prose poem. I've been reading a book of interviews with Ray Bradbury, LISTEN TO THE ECHOES, by Sam Weller. In it, Bradbury describes a writing method he used as a teenager. He'd begin with a series of nouns, then word associate with those nouns, asking, "Why did I put this word down? What does it mean to  me? Why did I instantly put this word down and not some other word." The result was a 100-200 word descriptive paragraph.I decided to try this out with the fan. My nouns were "fan," "meeting," "table," and "Chuck Yeager." (This will make some sense in a second.) What came up was a memory.Meetingby Laura Shovan

The only thing moving was the fan, upright on the end of the heavy wooden table. I was 19, maybe, not old enough to be at the meeting. Not old enough to be sitting across from Chuck Yeager. He was old, his back military straight. I was old enough to know I should keep my fingers still.

The plastic blades spun a slow a circle inside the fan’s square cage. The only thing escaping was air and a whirring sound. Chuck Yeager was the first person to break the sound barrier. I thought he was paying attention to the meeting. He had a pilot’s awareness of the periphery, of movement. No one else saw my fingers slide between the spokes of the box. No one else saw me pull them away, without a sound, when I met the edge of the fan blades.

***

I'm struck by how many of today's responses create a mood, as if a fan can help change or create a mood, simply by moving the air around us. Molly Hogan's poem fits this theme well.

Ahhh, A FanBy Molly HoganOn certain sticky summer dayswhen heat slaps me in the faceand my flushed skin dripsand my thoughts grumbleinto curdled meannessand a rash of spiteful wordstrembles at my lips,I would killfor the simple respiteof a fanwith sweet hum of rotating bladesand soft, stirring airto dispel the sour chunksof my humid mood.Last one in today is Mary Lee Hahn. Don't you love the voice she creates for the fan?Lament of the Portable FanI’ll never spin a hurricane,I’ll never turn a weather vane.I’ll never push a sailboat’s sailor ruffle feathers on a tail,power windmills, shape the land,carry ash or desert sand.The most that I will ever beis one small oscillating breeze.©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016http://www.maryleehahn.com/2016/02/found-object-poem-fan.htmlOne more! Sorry, Linda. I missed your poem in the comments. Thank you for joining us today. Linda Baie writes in: I really did work in the stacks during college. No fan, but always wished for one. For some reason that’s what I remembered when I saw the picture. Amazing what the mind will do!That Timeless Time As A StudentI play the night guard.Back in the stacks,the fan whirrs white noise,shimmers and shakes,scoots into edges, turning away,blowing powdery mildew from the shelves,grit on my tongue.Not the balmy breeze expected.Yet, it stirs the still air,and its machinations keep me alert.I need to stay awake,taking notes from dusty books.Thoughts rise in slow bubblesand stir in the swirled air.I mean to survivethis small tomb kept for meon Fridays and Saturdays.I’m tasting the future.Linda Baie ©All Rights ReservedCarol Varsalona is writing alongside us at her blog, Beyond LiteracyLink.

Desk Fan of SummerYou whirl, sputter, roarto cool summer daysas thick as pea soup.Oh, gadget of necessity,your task is never done.You should ask forovertime pay.©CVarsalona, 2016Cathering at Reading to the Core says, "I couldn’t resist writing about this fan. It reminded me of the fan my grandmother kept on her kitchen table throughout the summers of my childhood."Cicadas and grasshoppersthrum and humin the sweltering sunshineof an August afternoon.Your old silver fan,oscillating across the kitchen table,

whirrs and purrs,propelling bursts of coolnessover my face.Sipping sweet cold teafrom a glass drippingwith sweat,we weather the heattogether.By Catherine Flynn***Charles Waters had a lot of fun imagining the effects of the fun in this poem.MODELING SHOOTWhizzing, whirling,my skirt is twirling,my mind is swirlingstanding abovethe subway grate.Laughing, complying,trying to keepfrom crying,inside I’m dying,dressed fromhead to toe likeMarilyn Monroe.by Charles Waters, all rights reserved.***Donna Smith's poem brings in a mythological element.Fan or FoeTamed, controlled, constant,Domesticated lightningPowers gentle breeze.orBlustery, untamedWild, unleashed, flashing lightningFriend of the four winds.©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved***I love this little bit of history from Jan Godown Annino.

old fan

A fan + a block of ice

would be nice,

thought Dr. John Gorrie.

He set that odd pair up.

And started the air-conditioning

story.

c. 2016 Jan Godown Annino

***

See you at Matt's blog tomorrow for Day 5 and Poetry Friday.Reminder: Leave your Day 5 responses in the comments of this post for Matt Forrest Esenwine, who is hosting tomorrow's FOUND OBJECT poems. His blog is Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme.If you’d like to read what we’ve written so far, here are links to this week’s poems:Monday, February 1FOUND OBJECT: 100 year-old mailing boxPoems by: Diane Mayr, Molly Hogan, Mary Lee Hahn, Linda Baie, Jessica Bigi, Margaret Simon, Laura Shovan, Matt Forrest Esenwine, Catherine Flynn, Jone Rush MacCulloch.Tuesday, February 2FOUND OBJECT: Fancy peppers and producePoems by: Mary Lee Hahn, Jessica Bigi, Diane Mayr, Molly Hogan, Laura Shovan, Linda Baie, Matt Forrest Esenwine, Margaret Simon, Jennifer Lewis.Wednesday, February 3FOUND OBJECT: Moth eggsPoems by: Jessica Bigi, Margaret Simon, Diane Mayr, Mary Lee Hahn, Molly Hogan, Linda Baie, Jone Rush MacCulloch, Laura Shovan.