Read Write Believe: 2026

Friday, February 27, 2026

Poetry Friday: Inspired by Poet Laureate Arthur Sze

The Tree of Life

February's challenge was to write a poem inspired by/in conversation with a poem by the new Poet Laureate of the U.S., Arthur Sze. I first found him via a podcast transcript, which featured Sze in an interview for Poetry Magazine's 110th anniversary. In it was this gem:

Sze introduces the ancient Sanskrit idea of Indra's net: Everything that happens in the cosmos is like a crystal. If you imagine the cosmos as an immense chandelier and shine light into it, each hanging jewel reflects and absorbs the light of every other. “That’s one of the things poetry does,” Sze says. “We’re not writing in competition—we’re all trying to create poems, and they’re all shining light on each other."

Wow. Each poem, shining a light on the other. That's what the Poetry Sisters are all about.

Next, I went in search of some of his poetry. I admit to not knowing much about his work, even though he's been around for decades, writing reams of poetry. So this article (Selections) was helpful in narrowing the field. In it, I learned about Sze's translation of Chinese poetry, and his even wider interest in the struggle of every poet to "translate life to the page." The poem given as an example of this struggle was "Pe‘ahi Light," which I read, and fell hard for these lines:

Drizzle, rain, downpour—
I have no words for these kinds of rain;

I mark a conch shell doorstop, a dictionary
of etymology: rain, from Old English,

regn—a frond emerges out of the dark—
rain stops, water beads at the tips of ferns.

Words. Where they come from. What they say. What they can't say. I thought I could write a poem in response to that.

No Words

ache, pain, sting—

I have no words for these kinds of pain

bite, gnaw, twist, rip—

words caught in teeth, as if we must feed

on this pain we have no words for

burn, spasm, catch—

words of unregulated jerking, as if our hearts

cannot steady this pain we have no words for—

but maybe no one does—

for in my dictionary, pain roots

from the Latin poena:

penalty, cost, fine—

it is that which is taken,

like a pound of flesh

hence, the chart with grimacing faces

or the numbers by which we rank

sensation, moving pain away

from words, which are, at base,

untranslatable from the body

which only knows how

to bead and quiver

in the light that shines

on all the others,

giving words to

no words

My poetry sisters all picked different poems by Sze to respond to. You can find them here:

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Margaret Simon.

Friday, January 30, 2026

Poetry Friday: A Trio of Tricubes

The power of three
in storytelling

The challenge for January was tricubes, a short non-rhyming form--just three stanzas of three lines each, with only three syllables per line. (Get it? 3 x 3 x 3 = a cube) It was supposed to be a low-key entry to a new year of poetry... and surprise! it actually WAS pleasantly dreamy to write these...Liz even used the word "meditative" (which is poet speak for wild fun.) We also had a discussion about the well-documented magic of three in storytelling, and about all the ways one could approach tricubes. If you want to write one, here are six ideas for to begin:

1) Write a story in three parts: beginning, middle and end for each of the the tricube's three stanzas

2) write a list poem, as if you were jotting three-syllable notes to yourself (or someone else)

3) Pick a three-syllable word and write your poem as a definition of that word.

4) Or simply use a three-syllable word as inspiration, weaving it in as a line in the final poem (or let it go after you've revised it into something better.)

5) brainstorm a grab bag of three-syllable lines about any topic. Then play with the order of the lines, mixing and matching to make the most interesting stanzas. Tanita likes to "intensify" the poem as she moves through the stanzas.

6) Be inspired by the math itself, and play with the rich lore of numbers

...which is what I did, writing three tricubes, all about the number three: