Poetry Competition Ends 30th April 2025 11:19pm
DU Official NaPoWriMo Challenge
#6
~a letter of love.. (an inspired love lyrical)
1.
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
in those shape of words
had sent myself to you…
my love… love me
my love… love me
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
2.
my dear, the soil you walk
your path of foot… i will
revere & spread them in
chastity, all over my earnest
chest… as the liberating
sacred holy ash…
my love, as my refuging
sanctum.. in search of your
doors, I will arrive daily, in
devotional hymns of
the ‘Thevaaram’ verses..
in praise you, my Shiva..
a six-course daily worship
of you my god… is what this
poor ‘bhakti’devotee… desires
to pray & chant.. can you
hear this plea- this ‘Vedam’
of mine.. my god
my love… love me
my love… love me
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
3.
these taken breaths of mine…
are the life airs given by
you… without you to be, i will
just be a lifeless corpse…
sky, water, earth & all the
elements.. are all forms of
your scenic panoramic beauty…
in exuberance i exist, so
because of such foundational
deities…
you not in me… is a fish sans
its cool mediating waters… you
be a needful stream embracing
me…
my love
my darling..
love me
please…
my love… love me
my love… love me
4.
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
in those shape of words
had sent myself to you…
my love… please love me
please love me… my love
*unique words: 119
~a letter of love.. (an inspired love lyrical)
1.
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
in those shape of words
had sent myself to you…
my love… love me
my love… love me
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
2.
my dear, the soil you walk
your path of foot… i will
revere & spread them in
chastity, all over my earnest
chest… as the liberating
sacred holy ash…
my love, as my refuging
sanctum.. in search of your
doors, I will arrive daily, in
devotional hymns of
the ‘Thevaaram’ verses..
in praise you, my Shiva..
a six-course daily worship
of you my god… is what this
poor ‘bhakti’devotee… desires
to pray & chant.. can you
hear this plea- this ‘Vedam’
of mine.. my god
my love… love me
my love… love me
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
3.
these taken breaths of mine…
are the life airs given by
you… without you to be, i will
just be a lifeless corpse…
sky, water, earth & all the
elements.. are all forms of
your scenic panoramic beauty…
in exuberance i exist, so
because of such foundational
deities…
you not in me… is a fish sans
its cool mediating waters… you
be a needful stream embracing
me…
my love
my darling..
love me
please…
my love… love me
my love… love me
4.
a letter had i written
& sent my soul in it…
in those shape of words
had sent myself to you…
my love… please love me
please love me… my love
*unique words: 119
6/30
The Still of Christmas
Its quiet, oft times, is deafening
Yet, I can hear the joyful voices
of those who are no longer present
This constant ache gnaws
subliminally behind the glee
of those who don’t know this grief
Their innocence is maddening,
fueled by an intense desire
to turn back the hands of time
To make known, the love
held so dearly and sadly,
not everyday expressed
54 uw
The Still of Christmas
Its quiet, oft times, is deafening
Yet, I can hear the joyful voices
of those who are no longer present
This constant ache gnaws
subliminally behind the glee
of those who don’t know this grief
Their innocence is maddening,
fueled by an intense desire
to turn back the hands of time
To make known, the love
held so dearly and sadly,
not everyday expressed
54 uw
6 of 30
foal cloche
the horse hair, all tangled.
smells of warm earth, clots of hay.
the field sings butter and mustard
the dream stings.
I still hope you return.
a way to scarf you around my throat.
no longer able to be angry with you.
turn my thick neck away.
eat grass, whinny
and wear you when I play.
there is meaning when I hare,
a story, an agitated narrative,
a painting of the season.
a study of change.
your bootstrap, your whip
your traditional hairstyle.
your servitude.
you are inexpressible.
foal cloche
the horse hair, all tangled.
smells of warm earth, clots of hay.
the field sings butter and mustard
the dream stings.
I still hope you return.
a way to scarf you around my throat.
no longer able to be angry with you.
turn my thick neck away.
eat grass, whinny
and wear you when I play.
there is meaning when I hare,
a story, an agitated narrative,
a painting of the season.
a study of change.
your bootstrap, your whip
your traditional hairstyle.
your servitude.
you are inexpressible.
6 of 30
Simply
Beyond the measure,
Of planned and past endeavors.
To simply go,
Is sometimes.
Simply.
All.
To where or not,
Is not
Always first or thought.
Just,
To simply make,
For all that's been to bare,
The best of what is brought.
For such,
Tideless moments,
Chance would be,
Some quiet,
Seaside,
Air.
To sit and let the moment wash,
And wash away regardless
The restless tidings,
Amongst the drift recurrent.
Simply
Beyond the measure,
Of planned and past endeavors.
To simply go,
Is sometimes.
Simply.
All.
To where or not,
Is not
Always first or thought.
Just,
To simply make,
For all that's been to bare,
The best of what is brought.
For such,
Tideless moments,
Chance would be,
Some quiet,
Seaside,
Air.
To sit and let the moment wash,
And wash away regardless
The restless tidings,
Amongst the drift recurrent.
6/30
Grandchild
He’s got dirt under his fingernails;
pudgy baby hands give way
to little boy fingers, long and slim.
I have so much to tell him,
it threatens to burst from my throat -
but it will have to wait for another day;
we’re building a fort for King Q
and he likes it to be just so,
reminding me of his father, my boy;
he yells”Mimi!” to get my attention,
drifting into focus on green-gray eyes
that hold all the impatience of the cosmos
taking too long to create the will,
and I smile with all my heart
Grandchild
He’s got dirt under his fingernails;
pudgy baby hands give way
to little boy fingers, long and slim.
I have so much to tell him,
it threatens to burst from my throat -
but it will have to wait for another day;
we’re building a fort for King Q
and he likes it to be just so,
reminding me of his father, my boy;
he yells”Mimi!” to get my attention,
drifting into focus on green-gray eyes
that hold all the impatience of the cosmos
taking too long to create the will,
and I smile with all my heart
6/30
[ NaPoWriMo Collection: Flowers from Thoughts ]
[ . . . ]
I. The Greeks
[ . . . ]
v
Divine Messenger:
“Rainbow Bridge”
Vibrant symbol of elegance
connection and finesse
petals, intricately colored
purple and golden-white
reflect the namesakes’ mystique
winged-Iris, graceful goddess
beautiful messenger of peace
betwixt realms of heaven and earth
by commanding clouds of pigment
form a “Rainbow Bridge”
By which she freely traversed
in faithful and willing service
delivering omniscient messages
in ethereal yet grounded presence
connecting god to humankind
Timeless and inspiring
both goddess and flower alike
portraying life’s cyclic nature
of birth through imminent death
—a mystery yet wonder
we who remain, shall remember
. . .
[ NaPoWriMo Collection: Flowers from Thoughts ]
[ . . . ]
I. The Greeks
[ . . . ]
v
Divine Messenger:
“Rainbow Bridge”
Vibrant symbol of elegance
connection and finesse
petals, intricately colored
purple and golden-white
reflect the namesakes’ mystique
winged-Iris, graceful goddess
beautiful messenger of peace
betwixt realms of heaven and earth
by commanding clouds of pigment
form a “Rainbow Bridge”
By which she freely traversed
in faithful and willing service
delivering omniscient messages
in ethereal yet grounded presence
connecting god to humankind
Timeless and inspiring
both goddess and flower alike
portraying life’s cyclic nature
of birth through imminent death
—a mystery yet wonder
we who remain, shall remember
. . .
6/30
REPUBLICAN MAKEUP
Experience has taught me this
It’s better to be kind than rich
‘Tis bettter to be short and fall
Than collapse when you’re nine feet tall
I watch these folks whose mouths can’t make
A smile- they try it’s always fake
I trust if I can see your warts—
The rest of you can eat my shorts
REPUBLICAN MAKEUP
Experience has taught me this
It’s better to be kind than rich
‘Tis bettter to be short and fall
Than collapse when you’re nine feet tall
I watch these folks whose mouths can’t make
A smile- they try it’s always fake
I trust if I can see your warts—
The rest of you can eat my shorts
6/30
A Day Working At The Aquarium
Good morning!
Hi, How are you?
Do you have any questions?
I’d be happy to answer them!
Hello!
Do you see that cool seal?
Her name is Gracie!
Hi, how are you doing today?
Do you have any questions about the sturgeon?
The seal feeding? The next one is at 3pm!
Welcome! Do you want to touch a jelly?
They feel really interesting!
No, I promise they won’t sting you!
Hello!
Are you enjoying your day?
Great!
Of course! Have a great day!
Can I help with anything?
Just go down the hall and look to your right, the bathroom is there!
Hi! Welcome to the shark and ray touch tank!
You can touch these guys using two fingers gently on their back!
Yeah! Just like that! Good job!
Hello! Do you have any questions?
So in here we have a spider crab, a green crab, a whelk, and a clam!
You can touch any of the guys we have in here!
Just use two fingers gently on their backs!
Good job!
You’re welcome! Enjoy the rest of your day!
Have a great day!
Goodbye! Have a good day!
A Day Working At The Aquarium
Good morning!
Hi, How are you?
Do you have any questions?
I’d be happy to answer them!
Hello!
Do you see that cool seal?
Her name is Gracie!
Hi, how are you doing today?
Do you have any questions about the sturgeon?
The seal feeding? The next one is at 3pm!
Welcome! Do you want to touch a jelly?
They feel really interesting!
No, I promise they won’t sting you!
Hello!
Are you enjoying your day?
Great!
Of course! Have a great day!
Can I help with anything?
Just go down the hall and look to your right, the bathroom is there!
Hi! Welcome to the shark and ray touch tank!
You can touch these guys using two fingers gently on their back!
Yeah! Just like that! Good job!
Hello! Do you have any questions?
So in here we have a spider crab, a green crab, a whelk, and a clam!
You can touch any of the guys we have in here!
Just use two fingers gently on their backs!
Good job!
You’re welcome! Enjoy the rest of your day!
Have a great day!
Goodbye! Have a good day!
6/30
A Woman Tries to Distract Herself from Her Pain with Writing and Books while Trying to Get Comfortable in Her Bed
His careful hands move
splayed journals and pencil bags
and a battered, dog-eared copy of Archaic Smile
from the tangle of blankets and pillows
and hot water bottles.
He burrows under my arm
just like he did when he was small,
and for just a sparkling moment
we are not a sick mother
and her fourteen-year-old son –
We are a constellation of swirling
gold and silver, fire and ice,
the spark of all good things on this good earth.
For a moment, I hold the entirety of the world
in my not quite big enough arms.
A Woman Tries to Distract Herself from Her Pain with Writing and Books while Trying to Get Comfortable in Her Bed
His careful hands move
splayed journals and pencil bags
and a battered, dog-eared copy of Archaic Smile
from the tangle of blankets and pillows
and hot water bottles.
He burrows under my arm
just like he did when he was small,
and for just a sparkling moment
we are not a sick mother
and her fourteen-year-old son –
We are a constellation of swirling
gold and silver, fire and ice,
the spark of all good things on this good earth.
For a moment, I hold the entirety of the world
in my not quite big enough arms.
#6/30
Fragile
It seems so fragile,
this intangible thing we share.
Or maybe it’s just that I feel
brittle
each time I encounter it.
I’m compelled to turn away
put it on a high shelf
where my clumsy hands can’t reach
to observe fondly
remotely
on days when I feel strong.
But on the other days…
I want to caress all its surfaces
perceive its smooth comfort
despite the risk of breakage and sharp corners.
Such a delicate thing,
this ethereal connection –
a vulnerable sanctuary.
Fragile
It seems so fragile,
this intangible thing we share.
Or maybe it’s just that I feel
brittle
each time I encounter it.
I’m compelled to turn away
put it on a high shelf
where my clumsy hands can’t reach
to observe fondly
remotely
on days when I feel strong.
But on the other days…
I want to caress all its surfaces
perceive its smooth comfort
despite the risk of breakage and sharp corners.
Such a delicate thing,
this ethereal connection –
a vulnerable sanctuary.
6 of 30
Pontiac Safari First Owner
Department of Motor Vehicles
tells grandpa
“ You're no longer fit to drive”
and to grandma they advise
“Get rid of your vehicle m’am”
so gramps won't be tempted
to go for a spin
for old time's sake
and endanger his and other's lives
a devastating decision she had to make
grandad spent his career
working in auto manufacturing
his gold, Pontiac station wagon,
that he meticulously maintained,
was the last vestige of his livelihood
to lose it was emasculating
Unique words: 66
Pontiac Safari First Owner
Department of Motor Vehicles
tells grandpa
“ You're no longer fit to drive”
and to grandma they advise
“Get rid of your vehicle m’am”
so gramps won't be tempted
to go for a spin
for old time's sake
and endanger his and other's lives
a devastating decision she had to make
grandad spent his career
working in auto manufacturing
his gold, Pontiac station wagon,
that he meticulously maintained,
was the last vestige of his livelihood
to lose it was emasculating
Unique words: 66
6/30
Drops
I watch this water pour from the sky
Down through the grate
Out to the river
Into the sea
Up to the clouds
Then back down on me
Feeling the release
Lifting up the peace
Washing it away
Grey within the day
Taking a finger to feel the wet upon the stone
Finger starts to roam
Dug into the dirt
No wish to rinse
Can't help but touch
Swiped against my jeans
Happy with the stain
Hoping it remains
To remind me of the day
The day it rains
Drops
I watch this water pour from the sky
Down through the grate
Out to the river
Into the sea
Up to the clouds
Then back down on me
Feeling the release
Lifting up the peace
Washing it away
Grey within the day
Taking a finger to feel the wet upon the stone
Finger starts to roam
Dug into the dirt
No wish to rinse
Can't help but touch
Swiped against my jeans
Happy with the stain
Hoping it remains
To remind me of the day
The day it rains
06/30
[NaPo2025—Random Eloquence]
sparrowsong
❝When the sparrow sings its final refrain,
the hush is felt nowhere more deeply than
in the heart of man.❞—Don Williams
mozartian magic flute compels the skies
to listen to the sparrow on the rise.
and not a quaver or a breve
can i afford not to retrieve,
for of this sparrowsong my hopes comprise.
a james galwayan etude on the wing
through radiant plumage bids the heavens bring
a banquetful of nuances
to please celestial audiences,
and I am he who feels like earth's grand king.
emmanuel pahud lays down his pipe
to harken to the sparrow's much more ripe
ornamentations of the breeze
that pirouettes between the trees,
to paint the atmosphere with hip and hype.
jean-pierre rampal a descant hangs beneath
each sequence that the sparrow's lips bequeath,
whose tongue-in-cheek apostrophe
saves all the world from atrophy,
entangling swooners with his bridal wreath.
jeanne baxtresser of juliard acclaim
pipes fire from deep within the fauna's frame;
her sparrowsong caresses hills,
and every vale her tongueing thrills,
and man and beast find succour in her flame.
antarctica knows not my sparrowsong,
though heaven knows she there could do no wrong.
song sparrows keep a sparrowsong
to every liturgy prolong,
that music marriages make safe and strong.
© Copyright 2025 April 06
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
UWC 137
6/30
Heartstrings Can Be Troublesome Things
It’s the innocence about the times that I miss most
The way they used to look up
The little voices pulling at the heart
When I used to drive by that church on Washington
There was a moon at the top of the steeple
His little voice would cry out “the moon daddy, the moon”
There was some comfort in hearing that
Yet I knew deep down inside as time would go by
All that would fade away
But that was years ago…
It was as we walked through the museum
That his silence pierced through me
His indifference growing
That resentment
As if the long talks we shared had been forgotten
That I’d become a stranger who calls but is never heard
This old heart still feels the scars
Fractured at the core but still healing
Asking for forgiveness that might never come my way
99 Unique Words
146 Total
Heartstrings Can Be Troublesome Things
It’s the innocence about the times that I miss most
The way they used to look up
The little voices pulling at the heart
When I used to drive by that church on Washington
There was a moon at the top of the steeple
His little voice would cry out “the moon daddy, the moon”
There was some comfort in hearing that
Yet I knew deep down inside as time would go by
All that would fade away
But that was years ago…
It was as we walked through the museum
That his silence pierced through me
His indifference growing
That resentment
As if the long talks we shared had been forgotten
That I’d become a stranger who calls but is never heard
This old heart still feels the scars
Fractured at the core but still healing
Asking for forgiveness that might never come my way
99 Unique Words
146 Total
I am posting late because I got caught up playing a video game.
06/30
Self-Sabotage
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Bound to the abuse, what do you deprive?
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
Enveloped in moments, lost in the night.
The trauma cradles the failure to thrive.
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Caught in my mental space, I have no fight.
Fractured to pieces, beaten but alive.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
The heat escapes, and the shadows frostbite.
Icicles frost my wings; will I survive?
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Vision in a daze, mind in the twilight.
No belief system, no faith to revive.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
Anchored in darkness with no hope in sight.
With nothing to reach for, why should I strive?
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
[Unique Words 69]
07/30
Beyond Reach
I waited too long
to express my love.
I must confess,
I hesitated.
Now words sit
behind my teeth
wanting to be said,
needing to be heard.
Having no choice,
I embrace the silence
even with no attendance
you have presence.
The clock’s design
gets me closer to you.
It mocks me
because time is an experience
and I am forced
to live it without you.
[Unique Words 50]
06/30
Self-Sabotage
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Bound to the abuse, what do you deprive?
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
Enveloped in moments, lost in the night.
The trauma cradles the failure to thrive.
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Caught in my mental space, I have no fight.
Fractured to pieces, beaten but alive.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
The heat escapes, and the shadows frostbite.
Icicles frost my wings; will I survive?
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
Vision in a daze, mind in the twilight.
No belief system, no faith to revive.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
Anchored in darkness with no hope in sight.
With nothing to reach for, why should I strive?
Unable to stand strong and reach new heights.
My wingspan has limits; I have no flight.
[Unique Words 69]
07/30
Beyond Reach
I waited too long
to express my love.
I must confess,
I hesitated.
Now words sit
behind my teeth
wanting to be said,
needing to be heard.
Having no choice,
I embrace the silence
even with no attendance
you have presence.
The clock’s design
gets me closer to you.
It mocks me
because time is an experience
and I am forced
to live it without you.
[Unique Words 50]
