Welcome to The Public Domain Poetry Project where we deconstruct an older poem by using each line (one per week) as a jumping off point for a brand new poem. Participants are encouraged to share their poems in the comments below, or to leave us a link so we can read them elsewhere. If this sounds like fun to you, please consider subscribing for free so you don’t miss next week’s prompt. Thanks for visiting!
It’s the third week of The Public Domain Poetry Project! Thanks so much to everyone who played along last week and shared an idea in the comments. I love seeing how different people respond to the same prompt. I hope you’re enjoying reading the other poems. And if you haven’t shared one of your own yet, maybe this is your week. We’d love to read what you’re working on.
Here’s another bit of wisdom from my creative writing teacher who encouraged me to “Omit needless words.” When we had to turn in poetry writing assignments, he insisted that we call them “poem attempts.” It took so much pressure off. We weren’t handing in Poems with a capital “P” which need to be polished and complete. We were just sharing a poem attempt with him. We just needed to try, to attempt, to take a swing at a poem. So friends, if it feels scary to share something in the comments, just remember we’re not looking for Capital P Poems here, just poem attempts. I hope that makes it feel easier.
There’s a train track at the end of my street. We live in town so trains passing through go relatively slowly and are not supposed to use their horns. I actually have a poem in progress titled No Train Horn, which is what the sign down the road says. Despite the sign, we often hear train horns. Thus the musings in my incomplete poem.
I do love trains. I love train travel, I love the rumble they make when I’m drifting off to sleep at night. I love counting the number of cars when I’m stopped at a crossing. This week’s prompt is the first time we see the word train in Millay’s poem. It will come back again in later lines.
In writing my own poem attempt for this week I scrambled the words in the prompt so they said something a little different than they do in poem. Remember, no rules, just poetry.
Here is our prompt for the week, followed by my poem attempt.
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
Gone, Missing
All day goes by yet there isn’t a train
and I wonder have they stopped
running or is something
blocking the tracks
But I would know that,
would have heard about it
Wouldn’t I?
Things can’t just disrupt
the running of the trains
and go unnoticed, unreported
But if they can, then I wonder
what else I am missing,
but not missing?
What else isn’t happening
that should be happening?
And even when I hear
the rumble of the train
the first one in hours,
the first one in days
I am comforted, but also afraid
of the silence that went so long
unremarked and uncertain
how I can be vigilant enough
to hear the absence of a thing
Thanks so much for being here, everyone. Happy writing. See you in the comments.
Love the 'poem attempt', I think it is a lovely way to think about first drafts and hastily written words... Here's my 'attempt'
.
There isn't a train goes by all day
that doesn't carry on it
hearts filled with grief
and disappointment
that isn't filled with loss,
love, and unspoken dreams.
There isn't a train goes by all day
that isn't packed full
of commuters rushing to a job
that they hate
or returning from one,
desperate for some down time
or something to take
the edge off it all.
There isn't a train goes by all day
that hasn't listened to the stories
of it's passengers, as they talk
about their day, their week, their life,
dogs sit patiently, and revel in the attention
pats and smiles, from the humans
they impress with their presence
There isn't a train goes by all day
where you cannot find
hope
sitting
on a faded, grubby, and well worn seat
Yes it is lonely here
Yes it is quiet
Yet there is peace
Maybe a reason to stay?
There you sit
there you stand
there you kneel
I mean here, here at the station
the place of waiting.
It isn't hard, the waiting,
once you get the hang of it
you will want it more and more and more
You will want to drown yourself in it
A little longer just a little longer and the train will come
and carry you away
Or will it??
What is a train?
a line of cars
Like a poem, one little moving room after another
each one with a cargo of words
or not a cargo, but rather a congregation
each with a community of passengers, praying.
There it goes, leaving you behind
still waiting, the ghost train of your dream
you forgot to climb aboard
so in love with the waiting
with the stationary life
you missed the opportunity
You should know by now
that trains come and go
dreams come and go
the waiting is all, the readiness
the stillness
All day long you dream of going
But in the end you cannot tear yourself away.
All alone-- this is the solitude you longed for.
Today, this is the day
breathe, breathe.
this is the day.
***
My fingers kept typing yes instead of yet, so I went with it. Instead of starting each stanza with a word, I ended up burying them. This is just loose associations of ideas, stream of consciousness, dreamy going with the flow. But I rather like how it came out. Maybe I'll do something with it. Or maybe I'll let it stand.