napowrimo day 29

image

Today was a poem in the form of a review… et voici…

1🌟

Went outside to check
The weather
Today.
This is not what I ordered,
Not for this time of year.
The temperature was far too cold,
As if I’d walked into winter.
The clouds were
Visually interesting
But far too grey for my liking.
And no sun whatsoever.
Come on – god…esses,
What’s going on?
To top it all…
Sleet AND then hail
On the way home.
This is not
How it used to be.
I remember
Sun and the blue,
And gentle warmth.
I won’t be recommending
This weather
Tomorrow.

Disappointed, Tunbridge Wells.

napowrimo day 28

image

day 28… how’d it go so fast… a poem about a bridge.. here it is…

I thought it would be a big one
All girders and iron and never-ending.
A bridge that joined countries
Or that swam in mists.
Unfolded, unfurled, fashioned from trees roots.
I expected a mountain climb,
Walls of rock,
A rope bridge clinging months last thread.
Danger, with missing planks
Or ones that rotted away under a foottrod.
A huge beast of a bridge,
Where you start painting
One end, only to finish and
Have to start over again.
I thought it would never end.
But when I found it,
My gut stood still.
It was a wooden footbridge
Over a tiny brook,
The width of one person,
A small inverted triangle of a bridge.
I dropped my pen and paper into
The waters,
Not stopping to see them disappear,
And then it was crossed
And there was no going back.

napowrimo day 27

today’s prompt was from “Vince Gotera. It’s the hay(na)ku). Created by the poet Eileen Tabios and named by Vince, the hay(na)ku is a variant on the haiku. A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. You can write just one, or chain several together into a longer poem.”

20140711_153236

once

i knew

not my name

languished

inside, unwound

then brandished teeth

napowrimo day 26

this day’s poem – a persona poem, in another’s voice…

3Buenos Ayres sept09 042

you cannot see me

until your time is here

but i give you small deaths

everyday

to get you used to endings

these gifts

i give you freely

and if it is not your time

i will break your chariot

to stop you

i will not wash your clothes

in the ford

not today

anyway

napowrimo day 25

a little behind (as they say!)

this days was a clerihew – another form i’d never heard about until now and they are quite fun and very silly – http://www.verse.org.uk/what-is-a-clerihew.html

here is mine – a made up name –

cosmina saint clare

has a frightfully awful stare

what nobody knew

was her pupils were actually askew

napowrimo day 24

I find I am enjoying (careful now!) The way to try to craft poems more, normally I just let it splurge out a lot… so today’s task – to take a famous poem and write a satire or parody of it…

I chose “she walks in beauty” by Lord Byron link here – http://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/96/she_walks_in_beauty

I am in a small way quite proud that (after the first stanza) that I’ve managed the same scanning and mostly the same rhymes, the same end of line words in most cases too…

She walks in beauty

She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of darkened spouse brows, blackened eyes;
Hold it all in with pull up tights,
No matter how hard that she tries:
In high heels totters in her plight,
Whilst botox mouth movement denies.

Lettuce for tea, for dinner less,
A half starved look gives her such grace.
Hair extensions on every stress
Weigh heavy, strain around her face;
Where thoughts cannot bear to express
Just how much pain to reach this place.

Injections stop sweat from her brow,
Silent, stifled, so elegant,
The smiles that win, the false tan glow,
Tell of the money that’s been spent
To get her tightened down below.
All artifice this innocence.

napowrimo day 23

20140207_180304

today – pick a card and write non-stop for 5 minutes, then fashion your poem out of the words you have… i like this kind of stuff, on the edge of consciousness, good mining is found here… i found a tarot card, the 5 of swords from a goddess deck, isis with her fierce swords at ease…

5 of swords

i do not know why attack

is always on the cards…

the sharpness of steel words,

the cut and thrust of the “t”.

will i always need

five swords to defned myself?

the weight pulls my shoulder down.

but my head is tilted to gaze out further,

out towards the birds flying free,

the red landscape

of drift and dirt and hills,

waterfalls to quench the crimson thirst,

the dark, green comfort of cypress

holding,

forgiving.

napowrimo day 22

Cotopaxi 1-4 Oct09 020

today’s prompt –

“Today is Earth Day so I would like to challenge you to write a “pastoral” poem. Traditionally, these involved various shepherdesses and shepherds talking about love and fields, but yours can really just be a poem that engages with nature. One great way of going about this is simply to take a look outside your window, or take a walk around a local park.”

as i do that a lot, i thought i might try and write about a shepherd/ess… i dug out some quotes from a book i wrote down when i was travelling a few years back in south america… sigh… anyhoo, the story for this poem cames from that book – “pueblo de los andes” and the excerpt i used for the poem and some of the words is by Rufina Llampa, who is a herder… the picture is of cotapaxi – a volcano in ecuador…

here is my pastoral poem…

my little dove, we can spend weeks

here without money, there is no

need. my flower that never speaks,

what do you say, only truths. so,

our life is tough up here – but we’re

never alone, company is

ours in abundance. Way up here.

my little black eyes, my love, tis

not a Tuesday or a Friday. There’ll

be no killing of you just

yet. a life full of thebest care,

when it is your time then i must

thank you for the food and wool, then bless

the house and earth with your blood.

napowrimo day 21

image

Today… black out poetry… I have never done this before… The piece is called “house dream” -it’s from jungs house dream…

I was in a house I did not know.
I found myself in the walls,
Rococo style.
On the walls, precious old paintings.
This should be my house.
Descending the stairs,
The furnishings were mediaeval,
Red brick,
Everywhere dark.
One room to another.
A heavy door beyond.
A stone stairway,
Exceedingly ancient.
Stone blocks,
Interest intense.
Leading down to the depths,
Thick dust,
Scattered bones and broken pottery.
Two human skulls,
Half disintegrated.
Then I awoke.

napowrimo day 20

Today, a poem that states what I know… facts or beliefs… not coming easily anymore at all…  still, two thirds of the way through…

This is what I know to be true

The hills are not empty, they sing a strange
Tempting song of loss and loneliness. That
The wind sits still on the edge of the cliff
Where the crows play stretched on the wind. If you
Live with this your whole life, you can call the
Birds and they will answer you. Waves dance on
The stones, pull their sea-blanket over like
Raked earth. The moon grows a belly, loses
It every month. The earth will always feel
Flat to me. The sun has set millions
Of times but I find it beautiful each
Time. There will be time and time again for
Grieving the tiny endings every day
That feel like nothing, but add up to a
Lifetime of loss. That every time I think
I get it, I don’t.