A daily poetry practice to generate and sustain the Life/Lines among us, for published and novice poets alike
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Prompt
Write a short poem (rhyming not necessary) that includes each of the following 5 words (anywhere and in any order). Poems should not exceed 7 or 8 lines.
Star
Stairway
Memory
Hour
Light
Send us your poem via our Submissions page or post on Twitter or Facebook using the hashtag #lifelines.
Today’s words were contributed by Ignacio Infante, associate professor of comparative literature and acting director of the Center for the Humanities at Washington University. His new book, Sky-Quake: Tremor of Heaven, a poetry co-translation of an avant-garde prose poem by Chilean writer Vicente Huidobro, comes out April 24.
Poems submitted for April 13
My mother is dead now, no more present in my daily life than some famous politician or Hollywood star I read about while my hair is blown dry—
and yet I still know her. I know how much she would love those scattered daffodils on the bank of the stream, how she’d teach our new puppy to break rules, urge me to make a nice salad, implode with worry for the whole world and then, with trembling hands, sew masks.
All that warmth and well-intentioned nagging float just out of reach, lightly brushing just the tips of my fingers when I try,
once a day or a hundred times an hour,
to climb back up Duchamp’s stairway, desperate for memory to reassemble
a love no longer incarnate.
— Jeannette Cooperman
***
Light blue skies with non-shining stars
Stairways to planets of unlimited unseen pandemics
Memories of mirthful hours ghosting!
— Braveheart Gillani
***
FADED
Pale light glanced the stairway
in that moonlight hour
Her memory a distant star
— Sharon Derry
***
As the hours of the day turn to evening
and the lights dim,
The night sky brings a memory-
the expanse, again, a wonder.
Wisps of cirrus clouds form a stairway
to the infinite stars we share
in a world that still has possibility.
— Laurie Jalenak
***
There is a constant light
That always stands out bright
As if to give power every minute, every hour
It winds up the stairway through a cavernous membrane
Searching, recalling, thinking, remembering
Bringing forth a memory of peace, joy and love
The true love that comes from God above
— Maureen Kleekamp
***
Dating in the Seventies
We light a joint in the back
of his Dodge Dart convertible,
kissing under the stars. On the radio,
Zeppelin plays “Stairway to Heaven.”
I was too young to know this
would be a memory. I knew only that
I had to be home within the hour.
— Julia Gordon-Bramer
***
Now the stores are all closed and there’s a sign on the wall:
“With one word you can get what you came here for.”
In a street by the Loop there’s a star bum who sings:
Sometimes all of our memory is misgiving
But the hour will come when all are one and one is all.
Homeless,
He’s still boasting about a stairway to hell
And the light of the heavens.
— Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo, Comparative Literature
***
I was the star of my own illness.
But now there's a stairway before me,
leading up into the light.
I'm afraid the hour has come
for my memory to be tamed
and my instinct to come back up.
Excuse me if I'm looking down.
— Matthew Freeman
***
Family Vacation
At dawn we were eclipsed by midnight ocean waves.
I felt the cool rush of wind caress my face.
I begged the new tide to take me away,
but the pale star-sun led us to a broken stairway.
As the hour faded the light grew
into a mere memory that was painfully true.
We left you behind in the golden sands;
now five sets of footprints become one again.
— Susan Lively
***
Light Memory
It’s just a light memory now,
The stairway hour, or two, or three.
I can’t remember how many.
Like a star, or two, or three.
Too many to count,
So many, yet so light.
— Billy Acree
***
In Anti-Memory of Stairway to the Stars
An hour of star-light
then return to
the day-light of down-to-earth
undreamt-of daily living
— 2020 04 13 by Lloyd Klinedinst
***
13 April 2020
When there be no light left
in the stars,
When there be no sun
or a moon.
I will walk the stairway
to your memory in that hour
and plant myself
for ever.
— Jey Sushil (Track for International Writers)
***
The stars light the path
to a memory, our first hour
The final second...
Down a craggy stairway
A broken line, bonded
by crushing defeat
— Eric R
***
Mom used to sing to me:
star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight.
Now, as hours spent by light of stars
swell night after night,
now, my memory becomes too thick
as it bridges a stairway to Heaven, and
I listen to my favorite Led Zeppelin.
— Deniz Gundogan Ibrisim (Comparative Literature)
***
IN THE UNLIKELY EVENT OF A FUTURE
This day,
this hour,
will be a memory
of light—from one star
shining at the top
of this dark stairway.
— Sharon Bangert Corcoran
***
Light diminished
Down the stairway
We turned it
Around
An hour later we might
Have been lost
Memory will be a star of
Redemption
— james goodman 4.13.20
***
Vacant Chambers
I don't always choose which memory, all past
moments become subterranean cathedrals where empty footsteps echo. I
wander down halls, up spiral stone stairways, praying for lost hours
to dissolve like stars or dark magic come morning. And yet I conjure
her lips against mine when late afternoon light licked her body on fire.
— Casey Hampton
***
This memory remains:
Grandma cradling me on the dark stairway
her quavering, cigarette-laced voice
singing songs I still remember by heart.
A sweet hour of prayer
swinging on a star
and I saw the light
in her eyes.
— Steve Givens
***
August
The memory of light and the moon
its giant globe face dimming night,
stars nearly vacant now, except for the faint
glimmer at the edge of the mountain
like a stairway to that last bit of snow.
The broken hour before dawn
shadows erased by heat lightning,
the sound of horses tearing grass.
— M.E. Hope
***
Hour after hour we isolate, stagnate,
the world around us is muffled, quiet,
yet underneath something is shifting.
We don’t know who will star in this new production.
Descending the stairway of memory
will not bring solutions to light.
Best not to force new energy into old patterns.
The only resource we have right now is kindness.
— Carol Haake 4/2020
***
I follow the stairway of my memory
through the dark turrets of my mind
each step forward reveals another window
a star light glimpse into a long forgotten hour
— T.M.Wilson
***
Dementia's Corona
Picayune thoughts descend
the stairway of her memory
illuminated by a dying star.
As she grows nearer to the hour,
will the clock strike when her light
becomes a stellar remnant?
— Linda O'Connell
***
a pathway of pebbles at night,
memory’s labyrinth of light
reaches a dark star
through an hour ajar
and a heretical power
ascends subterranean
staircases to the heart.
— James B. Moog
***
A star is
The memory of light,
An hour
A step
on
the
endless
stairway
of
time,
and poetry writing -
lifelines
— Anonymous
***
I thought that if I searched for a star every hour
The darkness would finally fade away
And I would finally find the light
The memory of my past would now be bright
All the wrongs would now be made right
So, I began my journey a slow and steady climb up
Just another endless stairway
— Kenytha Harvey
***
[untitled]
A memory -
The early hour
only glimmerings from the morning star
light the stairway
You, a step behind me,
Carrying the coffee
I cradle the hard rolls, still warm
— Anonymous
***
The light of day
Illuminated by a star
Stairway: up and down
Memory wipes away
Distant as a quasar
— ted frigillana
***
house of memory
house arrest
light to the future
pillar of the linear
order on the stairway
marking time
hour by the each
hey there, little counted-star,
what dusts become you?
— Jay Buchanan
***
a forever memory our south city
redbrick two flat
five downstairs
just one just grandma up
up the stairway
porch light always on
no matter the hour
a childhood refuge away
awaiting the shooting star meant just for me.
— Anonymous
***
STAR GAZING
At the base of “Looking Up”
Is a favorite place to dream
To gaze at the light in the sky
A stairway to the stars and planets
As hour by hour another memory returns
Of drifting and floating away from reality
— Betty Springfield
***
Memory tiptoes down the stairway,
A hand gripping the polished wood banister, the subtle grain caressing a warm palm.
In this dark hour, no color is discernable,
But shapes are backlit by the meager light,
Filtered through unobstructed windows.
A hand finds purchase on the cold metal door knob,
gently opening the door to the outside, a soft breeze rushing in,
And my star, overhead.
— Brooke Bulmash ('21)
***
I'm a cowboy, I star in your memory of another hour, the muffled light beneath the stairway
Down which sweeps the lady in the high top hair-do
or maybe hair don't
yes, hair don't grow here past my ear
down my back
Back when words came to collect in torrents of abuse not rivulets of conformity
to the calamity.
— Anonymous
***
blue radiance
.
.
.
descended
from the stairway star,
shepherding light
from
the universe beyond,
and bringing
memory
of the hour of romance
between dark matter
and
the earth.
— KFR
***
Memory:
Bound by aged and fragile threads
We trickle in concert— marionettes like raindrops along each step.
We are echoes, parting only to meet again
parting—each time more distant and diluted—
we are parting.
Forget these dried up hours and memories — let such figments be my last.
Let us see stars instead of broken light, outcast.
And let a stairway be a stairway, and not an entrance to the past.
— Nicci Mowszowski
***
Ambiguous light falls upon
an unsuspecting hour.
Memory, that silver star, refuses
her curtain calls. I am
enchanted by a spiral stairway—
shadow play
before and beneath it—
and a single candle.
— Anonymous
***
Memory
When our parents had parties
we girls watched in the darkness
at the top of the stairway
catching sparkles of laughter
that wafted up towards us,
glimpses of ladies and gentlemen
swirling in ripples of light
behind the open French doors below.
After the party our parents would find us
fallen asleep and would carry us gently to bed.
"The stars have winked out," Mother would say.
— January Kiefer
***
A Memory
Climbing the hill, nature’s stairway
The hour, late
The star light, bright.
The grass, cool,
As we lay on our backs
And stared into the infinite.
You spoke of constellations and science and philosophy and
All I wanted
Was for you to
Kiss me.
— Pam Hughes
***
Last night I dreamt I was walking through an empty field.
The hour was late; I was meant to be somewhere by now.
Where, I could not say. But I had a purpose--something
to do with a stairway, with a star. Though dawn was coming
the light only receded further. There is a danger, I realized suddenly,
and just then the wind rose up, pushing me forward,
as if to refuse what memory I could muster.
— Gwyneth Henke
***
"In the manner of Friends"
At this tender hour,
I am holding you in the Light.
Lifting you up in my memory
As you rise, without hurry, towards the sky.
You are a flock of birds,
A flight of steps,
A stairway,
A star.
— Tila Neguse
***
Always, in the hour before complete darkness,
amid the dwindling light.
When I let my mind wander to you, a specific memory
pops to the surface as I look upon the gloom through my kitchen window.
You are four, my precocious child, wearing a dress much too big for you, my heeled sandals
and my floppy gardening hat.
Standing at the top of the stairway, gloved hand on the banister - dressed to the nines!
Simply magnificent as the lady of the house. My replacement has arrived.
— Kim Lehnhoff
***
I hold you in memory and in my heart.
Did you climb a stairway toward the light?
Or did a star beckon you to the beyond?
I had to let you go but, waking or sleeping, every hour
I hold you in memory and in my heart.
— Mary Ellen Benson
***
star-struck, glued to the TV
red carpeted people, glitter rapt but
memory can't do all the work!
in just the right light and hour past 10
you have to know someone
during the commercials
and go, like
exit out the back
into some secret stairway.
it's bedtime.
— Patty H
***
(German)
Wo sind die Stunden
des reinen Lichts?
Erinnerungen
glücklicher Sicht?
Hoffnungen schwinden
die Engel scheinen fern
Ach, könnt' ich jetzt nur finden
die Treppe zu einem Stern.
Where are the hours
of pure light?
Memories
of happier sights?
Hopes disappear
the angels seem distant
Oh, could I only find now
A stairway to a star.
— Robert Henke
***
down the stairway of night
the pale light of stars
will not erase these hours
of darkness
for light lives lost
in the shadow of memory
wrapped in the dark mists
of regret
— Warren Hauff
***
down the stairway of night
the pale light of stars
will not erase these hours
of darkness
for light lives lost
in the shadow of memory
wrapped in the dark mists
of regret
— Warren Hauff
***
Quarantine is Getting to Me
The headless climb the stairway forward
To the confines of a ceiling.
Get stuck in the headspace.
Suffocate the hour squandered.
If there was a mind, then probably memory.
If an eye, then maybe light.
But just legs. And stairs. And up and up
To a space without stars.
— Erin
***
to echo lispector
when the hour of the star ascends
i eat a slice of cheese, read in bed,
then shut off the light, leave my body,
climb the stairway to the corner of my brain
where memory lives,
and curl up there wondering
if i am indeed a monster
or just human
— Gabriella Martin
***
In my memory you can see a star
from the stairway to the kitchen door.
At this hour light comes out of the kitchen.
— Margaret Fourt Goka
***
A memory is a stairway
to the hour I saw
the first star's light.
— Anonymous
***
As my memory doth serve me
From a stairway in low light
She was the star, it was her hour
Gracelessly grateful falling just one flight.
— Ted
***
Gazing
For hours
Into the night sky
The stars interlace into
A stairway of light
Climbing rung by rung
Into memory
Into dreams
Into nothingness
— Anonymous
***
Paper Star
I came upon starry wallpaper,
I cut it out and made it nature.
Into the dirt, I pushed it. Good night.
Until string intestines came out into light.
Not the only way is stairway to space
To return my paper star to its true place
Only middle moonlight hours of our lives is one to recognize our face,
Where memory creates meaning beyond paper trace.
— Ellery Saluck
***
LOC-0
A narrow stairway leads down
to where the real books are
you can read for an hour, in the cold
neon light—no notes, only memory
serves, if you want to read to-go
but know that they'll remember you
too, with a star behind your name
— Tobias Feldmann (International Writers Track)
***
We hovered in the air like light
that lost its years-long way
from one star to another
You cut an hour like a block of ice
from all the time we'd saved
in the stairway cupboard
I cracked a chisel trying to prize out
the memory that lives in crystal
— K.B.
***
calle general alaminos n. 94, may 2013
we kissed by the stairway
for at least an hour, maybe more
until i was on my knees right there in the hall
and the last star was ceding to morning light
and the neighbor got curious about the noise
i remember it all, even the address,
have you kept this memory, too, still?
— Gabriella Martin
***
The memory of you cut deep
A flickering light, the brightest star
Once illuminated my face.
I searched for the stairway, to climb from the hole
Where my heart used to be.
Alone in the dark now with the ghost of your touch
It torments me, minute by minute, hour by hour.
— Alexandra Steszewski
***
Dylan Thomas looks at Covid-19
In memory’s mayhem, life’s last frantic hour
The varicolored stars burn feverishly bright
The scribbled note at the top of the stairway
The patients last passport nearer to the light.
— Jo Schaper
***
Traverse the Night
Dance across your light filled stage.
The path held in memory for all time.
In your appointed hour you know where to flow.
Climbing the stairway the moment is now.
You shine - a star.
— Karen Engelkenjohn 4/13/2020
***
It seems always at that same late hour, that the memory
of you descending the stairway comes back to haunt me...
...my long lost guiding star.
I turn out the light, the better to see you.
— Paul Bartholomew
***
The Moment
I stir, awake on a landing of a stairway,
The light coming from a bright star above,
Something like Sirius, the white flame flickering.
The light shines down from a high, large window.
It is like a twilight hour, shadows long, dark.
My memory is of the sun, but this is not it.
I search my life in the tremulous glare.
I stare at the moment, bursting silently there.
— Dan Cuddy
***
Replaying the memory
Of me
Carried
Up the stairway
In your arms
There I lay
Hour after hour
Under the star light.
— J. Thomas
***
MEMORY LOST
What hour is this?
That the only light,
Is a dim star faintly shining,
In the vast darkness
On the fragmented stairway
To an ancient memory.
— KJR
***
Walking the stairway
not up or down but through time.
memory landing on intersections of light,
that in reality took an hour,
now only flashes of light with stars.
Not of the night sky, but heavenly nonetheless.
Stars of compassion, empathy, understanding, and love.
— David Bates
***
i stood close to you on the stairway.
oak scented memory sliding down
banisters—there were stars in your eyes.
drain the light by the hour and shine it for the sky.
— Sabrina Spence
***
Memory's magic
stairway, haunting hour wakes a
falling star! A wish!
— Bernie Mossotti
***