Day 27: Welcome Home

 Todays' dual prompts from Write Better Poetry and NaPoWriMo: (1) Write a "remix" poem, and (2) write a poem in the form of a "duplex sonnet," created by poet Jericho Brown. Maureen Thorson of NaPoWriMo describes it this way: 

Like a typical sonnet, a duplex has fourteen lines. It’s organized into seven, two-line stanzas. The second line of the first stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the second stanza, the second line of the second stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the third stanza, and so on. The last line of the poem is the same as the first. 

(There appears to be no specific rule for rhyme or meter, but I used unrhymed iambic pentameter, a.k.a. blank verse, for this one.)

In the past, when I've done Robert's "remix" prompt. I took the last lines from several of the poems I had written in April and strung them together to make a coherent new poem. This time, instead, I took a slight variation on one of my better first lines of this month, ("When you woke up this morning/you were not on fire...." from my day 13 poem, "How to Know Today Will Be AMAZING") and used it as the first and last line of this new poem. I also decided to make this another part of my "Elbow Project,"where I write songs based on the music and lyrics of the British rock band Elbow. Their song "Open Arms" is an uplifting tune about a homecoming, and it has a lilting, carnival-type sound to it, like a party. (Today just happens to be my birthday, by the way, and there is no party planned for today, but the one I imagine here would be nice.) Anyway, I hope this works as a "duplex sonnet" and as a poem that sets a tone.

Homecoming
 
The moon is out looking for trouble
and everyone's here....
―Elbow, "Open Arms"
 
You woke this morning―you were not on fire.
You need no ladder to climb out the window.
 
            You leave a window open, bring a backpack.
            The conductor asks to see your ticket home.
 
Back home they've unfurled the colored banners,
They've strung and tested all the colored lights.
 
            When you arrive a little late, the lights are on,
            The moon is rising in three-quarter time,
 
They sing a song the moon would know by heart,
And hoist a brew to you―they spill some foam.
 
            The night careens along on foam and moonshine,
            You sing through open windows till they close.
 
You need no ladder to climb in the window―
You wake this morning and you're not on fire.