Writing Prompts for Summer Love

Vintage Butterfly Collage by Venita Oberholter

Introduction

"Summer Love" is derivatively explored in these mentor poems and writing topics -- traditional love and love lost, for sure -- then, there's the love of summer, or the life changing things that are "metaphored "by summer and its grand contents -- even the summers we can't forget . . . for whatever reason.

First Mentor Poem

The Woman Who Turned Down a Date with a Cherry Farmer
AIMEE NEZHUKUMATATHIL
 
           Fredonia, NY
 
Of course I regret it. I mean there I was under umbrellas of fruit
so red they had to be borne of Summer, and no other season. 
Flip-flops and fishhooks. Ice cubes made of lemonade and sprigs 
of mint to slip in blue glasses of tea. I was dusty, my ponytail
all askew and the tips of my fingers ran, of course, red
 
from the fruitwounds of cherries I plunked into my bucket
and still—he must have seen some small bit of loveliness
in walking his orchard with me. He pointed out which trees
were sweetest, which ones bore double seeds—puffing out
the flesh and oh the surprise on your tongue with two tiny stones
 
(a twin spit), making a small gun of your mouth. Did I mention
my favorite color is red? His jeans were worn and twisty
around the tops of his boot; his hands thick but careful, 
nimble enough to pull fruit from his trees without tearing
the thin skin; the cherry dust and fingerprints on his eyeglasses. 
 
I just know when he stuffed his hands in his pockets, said
Okay. Couldn't hurt to try? and shuffled back to his roadside stand
to arrange his jelly jars and stacks of buckets, I had made
a terrible mistake. I just know my summer would've been
full of pies, tartlets, turnovers—so much jubilee. 

Aimee Nezhukumatathil, "The Woman Who Turned Down a Date with a Cherry Farmer" from  Miracle Fruit.  Copyright © 2003 by Aimee Nezhukumatathil.  Source: PoetryFoundation.org

Writing Prompts

• Tell me about second thoughts. About what you turned down. About the road not chosen (to cross reference poets!)
• Tell me about someone you notice from afar, include all the details you notice.  Or tell me about someone you interact with daily, in intimate observatory detail.
• Write a poem about a summer love.
• Write a love poem to summer.

​

Second Mentor Poem

Summer
ROBIN COSTE LEWIS
 
Last summer, two discrete young snakes left their skin
on my small porch, two mornings in a row. Being
 
postmodern now, I pretended as if I did not see
them, nor understand what I knew to be circling
 
inside me. Instead, every hour I told my son
to stop with his incessant back-chat. I peeled
 
a banana. And cursed God—His arrogance,
His gall—to still expect our devotion
 
after creating love. And mosquitoes. I showed
my son the papery dead skins so he could
 
know, too, what it feels like when something shows up
at your door—twice—telling you what you already know. 
 
 
Robin Coste Lewis, "Summer" from Voyage of the Sable Venus. Copyright © 2015 by Robin Coste Lewis.  (Alfred A. Knopf, 2015) Source: poetryfoundation.org

Writing Prompts

• What do you already know?
• What are the shiftings, the changing patterns, the signs around you, telling you things are changing?
• What does summer leave at your doorstep?
• Write an ode to summer.

​

For Discussion

Endless Summer
NATE PRITTS
 
. . .
It was the summer I fucked up    the summer    fucked up   me
fucked up   a fuck-up in the summer   & I spent time laying under stars
too much   time I wasted  the stars  you lied to me under the stars
& the summer was endless   the summer endless   it was an endless summer
. . .
. . .
endless   & I said things like   “If I ever see you again”
but   I’ll never see you again   I never saw you again   I made sure of that
& I circled   the lake   I went in circles    the lake was endless   it was
summer   I fucked up   too much time & I never saw   you again   & I
. . .
. . .
circled & it was   endless & the stars    lied to me   the summer
light   moving so slowly   I saw the summer light move   endless
& when I see you   the trees will cluster   green rage green   trees raging
with love   endless love & I’ll never see you   again   I made sure of that
. . .
. . .
wasted under the stars   the slow summer   light   the endless fuck-up
& you never again   you lovely   you summer you   everything that is now
never again   whatever that may be   the rage I loved   me under the stars
then & now   endless   wasting away me   haze wandering around endless
. . .
. . .
haze  it was endless  too much time & you   lied to me & I    said things like
I can’t describe the air on my skin can you   can you please   I know it was
important & the light from stars   moved   so slowly   & you   moved off
forever   how can you save everything   everything   important   endless
. . .
. . .
summer light   the fuck-up   the lake a circle   circling   the lake
how can you save everything   how can I   answer you the light of summer
stars I’m sorry  for my light   the endlessness of my endless & my   fuck-up
the me that is   now   looking back & thinking   & this summer circling
. . .
 
Nate Pritts, "Endless Summer" from The Wonderfull Yeare (a shepherd’s calendar). Copyright © 2009 by Nate Pritts.   Source: poetryfoundation.org