Walk Softly: A Poem

Several days ago, I came across an article that told of a man who was using the NOAD example sentences to write stories.

“How inspiring!” I thought. “What a fantastic exercise!” I continued to think about this brilliance and how I’d love to find a copy and take a stab at doing something of my own.

Then, in between the bedlam that is being a first-year teacher, I had a stroke of inspiration when I was leafing through the newspaper on Friday and came across the crossword puzzle: What if I wrote a poem using the crossword’s puzzles? After all, it is national poetry month, and I do love me some poetry.

What fun it was! A refreshing challenge that I think turned out rather well.  I’m going to do it every week and see what sorts of word art I uncover. The crossword puzzles are underlined, and if it’s italicized, I changed the word’s type (in this case, I changed it from a noun, clunker, to a verb). Without further ado, here’s my first in a series of crossword puzzle poems, “Walk Softly”.

“Walk Softly” by Claire Fiori  2016

A bloke’s streetcar clunks on
an island near Corsica,
Pillboxes and potpourri
in the passenger’s seat,
Edible seed in the glove box.

This bloke’s kind of map is
the one without street signs,
Only landmarks and the moon.
No ballpark figures or stock holdings,
Just sunblock additive and happy feeling.

He plucked a guitar
that would give you the chills.
He fossilized plants under the skylight’s locale.
He showed how birthday suit wearers
Turn a deaf ear to drama awards,
and tear to bits society’s dreaded exams.

Once more does this bloke’s pulpit stand
on a Saint’s attribute; a secret meeting
held in a highway diner.
Pawned to an online journal.

If you see him,
tell him the peace goddess says hello,
And remind him to walk softly.