What time is it?
(it’s pantoum time)
Dear friends,
Roughly once or twice a year, like a little ritual, I’ve written a Substack post inviting you to write a pantoum and — roughly once or twice a year, like marvels! — you have written pantoums in response that have been wondrous to behold. (Here is the last time and the time before.)
So, as of right now, I am declaring that there will be an annual (or semiannual) pantoum Sunday. I do not know when it occurs; it simply announces itself.
A “pantoum” (“pantoun” as it’s written in Malay) is an extraordinary poetic form from Malaysia, adopted by the French which then wound its way into English. If the unit of sonnet is 14 and the unit of haiku is 3 (remember 5/7/5 also) then the unit of pantoum is 8. A pantoum turns 8 lines into a 16-line poem; each line repeats, and it is in the sequence of things that a pantoum emerges. There are longer pantoums too: a 64-line pantoum takes 32 lines and — in a received pattern of repetition — turns it into the longer poem.
So, for your prompt today, friends, I thought that it’d be a good idea to have a pantoum about time. Here are prompts for eight lines of poetry. Write them, number them (don’t forget that part), and then — like poetry-by-numbers — arrange a pantoum for yourself. Don’t stress over it: bring yourself generously to yourself and write these eight lines and then share, if you wish, in the comments.
Here are eight prompts. Write a not-too-long line in response to each of these, each line about the same length. Feel free to use other words than my prompts, they’re just starters.
Today, it is
and I …
although yesterday I ...
As I write, I
When I was younger I …
I couldn’t have known …
and anyway…
I had a dream that…
They’re whimsical, these prompts, I am always interested in lines that are not burdened by what my poetry editor Martha Sprackland calls poemy words. No need for abstractions or lines weighted down by very sensible or intelligent adjectives. See if you can allow a natural flow of your own intuitive language to be present. You don’t have to use my exact words either.
And also, be economical in your line length. The pantoum works well if each line is roughly the same length.
Once you’ve written your eight lines, arrange it into a pantoum arrangement like this:
1 2 3 4 2 5 4 6 5 7 6 8 7 3 8 1
Remember that episode of Poetry Unbound where we explored Kay Ulanday Barrett’s magnificent pantoum? Kay chooses to use perfect repetition in their poem — i.e., the way that each line appears at the beginning is exactly how it appears in its repetition. I admire this attention to form. You are also welcome to punk up your repetition a little: if, for instance, your fourth line is “as I write, I see a spider crawling up the window on the outside” your repetition of the fourth line may be “the spider’s begun to spin a web, starting on the left”.
I’ll see you in 16-lines-long entries, friends.
Poetry in the World
A list of my events: Online and in the U.S. (Rhinebeck, NY; Santa Fe, NM) , Ireland (Borris), Scotland (Iona), and England (Kettering)
May 31–June 5, Rhinebeck, New York
I’m leading a six-day workshop at the Omega Institute. We’ll read and examine poems and also write and discuss our own. I’d love to see you there. (For more info, click on the date heading.) And if you can’t join it, you might enjoy Orion’s Environmental Writers’ Workshop, taught by a team that includes past Poetry Unbound poet Michael Kleber-Diggs. Learn more about the Environmental Writers’ Workshop — which takes place at Omega from June 14–19 — here.
I’ll be joined by brilliant journalist Olivia O’Leary for a reading and conversation on my new book of poems, beginning at 3:45 p.m. (For registration info, click on the date heading.)
June 27–July 3, Iona, Scotland
Krista and I will be leading a week of conversation (with some musical guests) on Iona, an island off an island off the west coast of Scotland. It is filled, but if you want to be on the wait list, you can email the Saint Columba hotel by clicking on the title just above here. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
August 9–13, Santa Fe, New Mexico
I’m leading a four-day intensive workshop at Modern Elder Academy called “Poetry as a Common Language”. We’ll read, write, and discuss poems on finding and deepening connection. (For more information, click on the date heading.)
August 27-30, Kettering, England
I’m absolutely delighted to be returning to this year’s Greenbelt Festival, a gathering of arts, activism, and belief in England, beginniing. (For registration info, click on the date heading.)
I’ll be leading evening worship alongside Nadia Bolz-Weber and Doug Gay as part of the Festival of Preaching, beginning at 5:30 p.m. (For registration info, click on the date heading.)
I’ll be leading a virtual craft intensive on poetry and desire through Poets House, beginning at 6 p.m. ET. (For more info, click on the date heading.)




The day my wife and son go to church
And I stay behind
Although yesterday I spoke something
As I write, I become unraveled
And I stay behind
When I was younger I would draw pictures
As I write, I become unraveled
I couldn’t have known how fast it would go
When I was younger I would draw pictures
And anyway I still draw, well paint
I couldn’t have known how fast it would go
I had a dream that God told me to stop
And anyway I still draw, well paint
Although yesterday I spoke something
I had a dream that God told me to stop
The day my wife and son go to church
Today is the day my friends leave
and I think I'll miss them when they're gone
although yesterday I wasn't so sure.
As I write, I wonder about friends
and I think I'll miss them when they're gone.
When I was younger I wanted them to miss me.
As I wrote, I'd wonder about friends:
I couldn’t have known how much I'd miss
when I was younger. I wanted to be missed,
and anyway, is every missing a lack?
I couldn’t have known how much I'd miss.
I had a dream I was stuck, waving at the gate
and anyway, is every missing a lack?
Tomorrow I may not be so sure.
In this one I'm stuck again, waving at the gate.
Today is the day I leave.