DU Official NaPoWriMo Challenge

14/30

Memory Box

You used to be so close
Something too prized to share
But I can see the shifting of the sails
Now, your back has turned on me
And all that’s left is a slow burning memory
They sell boxes for those
So I bought a few
Now and then, I think about the others before I even think of you
And it feels criminal
I get so obsessive you see?
I couldn’t stop at one
Precisely why I choose to rummage through the dusty belongings of what once was
There’s a silver watch still ticking
Too bad there’s no time left
Fingernails and strands of hair
You always were a beauty
Now a memory is all that remains
I did what you asked
I just wanted to make it
Memorable.

15/30

INNOCENTICIDE

‘We must make sure it never happens again …’
after every holocaust-war it’s said the same
especially repeated Innocenticide
like Gaza and other horrors not reported
for fear of whom you’re not allowed to criticise

Politicians stand for cameras, feign the pain
as puppeteers move their lips with money, keep them tame
no-one dares critique the Monster — they just hide
behind the imaged metaphors — language sorted
deflecting mass psychology with clever lies

Who’s employed to help them ‘get their message across’?
The usual suspects, the sad careering dross.

#15 of 30

Waking in the Void

there"s no

sensations

under skin

rapidly weiding

excuses every

waking minute

 

nothings wrong really

i still breathe

exist somewhere

just never

where

you are

 

always edgy

 not quite

knowing why

all the switches

keep sticking

 

moving now

 

here

without thinking

interests in lfe waning

but don't get excited

this animal's cage

is fully ooen

 

readily obeying

on demand

a lonely

occupation

jumping

through hoops

 
unique words 64
total words 64

 

 

15 of 30


blindfolding reality


I felt the weight of the words
like a boulder on my shoulder
pressing down on me
rather frequently
you should have known better
but...
there's another side to every equation
have you ever wanted something
badly enough you turned a blind eye
willing to strike the match of your own pyre
drinking the cyanide with a whiskey chaser
pretending the resulting burn...is yearning
while sweet demise was all you tasted
& still you clung to the lie
because craving overshadowed truth
no attempt made to abort
ignoring that eternal internal voice
saying don't walk...run
determined to see fantasy through
ego strutting center stage
wisdom falling in last place
as self-preservation completely fails
all to have a chemical release
a temporary fix
staggering on the intoxication of greed
it's a dangerous road to tread
& always a dead end
if you watch their hidden agenda
...honestly...
it can be seen
whether or not you acknowledge it
you'll usually know...
as I said...pay attention
they show you

15/30


Reminiscence


Back in the nineties
There were no cellphones
I studied in the city
Miles away from our province
I was alone living in a boarding house

I only get to see my parents
When they go to the city for important business
Back then, our means of communication
Was through letters
That I sent through postal office

Crime was not that common in those days
And drugs were not that rampant
My allowances was sent through postal money order
And I had to encash it at the postal office

Sometimes I would sent a message
Through telegram for faster delivery
I did not fear going home late from school at seven o'clock in the evening
When I have a class at 6 pm

The streets were safer
In the nineties
Rape cases were not common
Unlike today
It has become a daily news

I feel worried when my son
Is not home at 8 in the evening
I worry when I cannot call him
On his phone because time have change
These days the streets are not safe at night

15/30

little tree

My thoughts worry I don't feel good today
My nerves are on edge, and my soul feels rankled
It's a beautiful sunny day, and I can't get in tune
It just makes my foul mood stark in comparison

Alcatraz, except my prison is of the mind
my failures evident I feel my limitations
Anxiety builds; I have not learned to cope

Burying my feelings causes a great disconnect
where I can only watch on from the sidelines
as others enjoy themselves

sighing and groaning within to connect with nature
my soul searches for a way in
it is always the trees they held me as a babe
when i was child

their mighty boughs supported me
and intimidated anyone who thought to climb them
with angry intent

they listen to me quietly daydream
and considered me one of their own
They would say litte tree, you are mortal now
go out into the world and tell of the language of trees
my heart lament I couldn't stay hidden among their leaves

so here I am today, feeling discontent with my humanity
but I can hear them creek whispering to me hope

They watch over the house and me with it
lending me strength it always been so
keepers of great wisdom
chronicling history they keep my secrets
and admonish me, little tree
even a book remembers being a tree

15/30

sugar or salt

i whisper words of love
but they slip off you
like frayed silk

my playful fingers pry
like a flittering butterfly
but you repulse
as some slimy earthworm's
wriggling on your skin

my smile...oh that smile-
you called it sunflower;
now casts shadow on your face

you have a sweet tooth-
and told me once
you loved me
more than sugar and honey

now i realize...
i was just

...some salty snack

to fill your idle hours
between meals

...and not your sweet bunny

15 of 30

A part of me..

There is a part of me,
That looks out into the broad,
The dark and level sea.
A part,
That's always looked out for me.
I see that part standing,
Washed from sand
Upon the waiting gravel
While I,
Exiled,
Unravel.
I've seen that part as it's seen me,
Seen the art it makes of fear,
And,
Seen the fear it's found in me.
Mistakenly.
The line it drew,
I drew,
Near.
The line it knew,
I saw with fear.
And in a break so disturbed
The birds awoke
And broke the sky.
I found,
All alone and adrift,
Holding onto breath amidst,
The storm swept sea.
There was a part of me,
I saw with fear.
A part of me,
I now hold,
Near.

15/30

Univocalic (O)

Downtown Toronto,
shop front on dodgy block hosts groovy show.
How jolly!

Forty boho hobos, long of tooth,
toot obos, hoot horns,
clonk gongs, bop bongos.
Two bozos on obos of wood do solos—
two old boys on form!

Dozy hobos forgot words to songs
or how to hold gongs.
Horns now honk. OW!
How folky.
Boozy old hobo on bongos looks lost.
Bozo who owns dowdy wool hoody
flogs lots of goods
(CDs, on mono only - no promo!).
Now, no stock.
Odd-socks hobo works crowd:
"Throw dosh! Throw gold!"
No. Songs not too good!

So, obos told, "Solos!
Crowd sold on solos."
Good song (molto mosso):
honk, plonk, hoot.
Crowd throws dosh.
Go, hobos, go!
Oomph! Mojo!

Ooh— dowdy hoody hobo spots tycoon (so showy!);
swoops down on posh toff to loot dosh!
No!!
Hobos cotton on, stop song,
took lolly - gold, onyx, rocks
from crowd.
Lots of boos.
Hobos throw loot on dodgy lorry;
hot-foot on to lorry... go!
Cops follow bold loons on foot - dogs too.
Dogs woof; cops go, "STOP!"—
too slow.
Forty boho hobos go!

No glory for hobos.
No hobby now; no job tomorrow.
Dodgy crooks: not sorry!

15/30

The Bible

And when “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son”…
Was it already written the human suffering that would happen anyway?

The pain of loss far outweighs the high of occasional joy yet, with a bowed head I might find relief in His love.

Wishing it would last longer than a few moments, it’s those that carry me forward.

Would it be childish to wish for a personal rainbow to carry me to those I miss?

I hope not because I bought a family size bag of skittles and I’m leaving with the first handful.

73 uw

15/30

[ NaPoWriMo Collection: Flowers from Thoughts]

[ . . . ]

II Ancient Egypt

i

Life Cycle
                        Lotus

Aquatic survivor, rising
 from murky sediment
rhizomes, plump, wide
 rounded like a woman
seed pods, prickled

Fragrant and showy, verdant
 green pads, shallow water
Queen, ruling the cycles
 of nature—death & rebirth
creation according to Ra

Sun god. Adorning tombs
 renewal and enlightenment
Ceremonial rites, offerings
 upon temple altars
you lie—intoxicating

Pressed between pages
 the Book of the Dead
promising an eternal
 afterlife through resurrection
for the entombed mummy
. . .

15/30

Altitude

silky, luxurious fabrics draping
pillows of every shape and size
a round room of decadence
with a short, thick filing cabinet
in the corner, next to the couch
here is where I keep you, the past
where all is well and dreams are realized;
I open the drawer with you in it,
every laugh, joke, belly busters
all in a neat, collated file marked “funny”
every time you voiced your consternation,
made fun of the waiter, or laughed
at my expense, all in a file
labeled “decidedly not funny”

15/30

First Summer Monsoon

Daily threats of the first
tepid, sometimes cool
light breezes often
partnered with wonderful
overcast skies

This pushes my mood
sitting on a beach, any beach
waves, waving, coming
tippy-toeing – Yes!!

I feel the imaginative frore
I will myself to forget
pending hell like heat
forget everything
and just breathe

or hold me breath
‘til this year’s 1st monsoon

15 of 30

Food; no thought

I try to conjure up phrases
Or magic up the words,
but my post-meal mentality
is waning in its clarity;
Slipping into semi-conscious sedation
because of a rush of blood
to the stomach.

My mind longs to wander
And to slip into something
comfortable.
As akin to clouds rolling in
over the hills
Blanketing all into shadow
as a momentary reprieve
from waking awareness.

(Unique Words: 50)

#16

"~my lighted flower..."
 (an inspired lyrical)




(intro verses)

oh ho.. on a befallen power-cut day.. here
you arrive as lightning, a sparking electricity
oh come here..  soon come here
a brightly~ lit… my lighted flower


(refrain)

oh ho.. on a befallen power-cut day.. here
you arrive as lightning, a sparking electricity
oh come here..  soon come here
a brightly~ lit..my lighted flower


drawing my soul canvas…  you
are a pure will in possession

driving my wintry bitterness..
you pierce as soothing summer  

am calling you now
in all hearty bow.. my love

when the rain~ clouds gather, why will
not this peacock unveil dancing feathers..

am calling you now
in all hearty bow.. my love

love, this love .. is a fervorous  fever
that comes along as timeless conquer
aadaam~ evaal made this art of love.. still
this eternal series continues.. quenchless


(refrain)

love, this love .. is a fervorous  fever
that comes along as  timeless conquer
aadaam~ evaal  made this art of love.. still
this eternal series continues.. quenchless




(middle stanza)

awakening in Japan in budding appendages..
when did you drift here, my walking haiku …

oo.. this my civet~ perfumery heart.. sprays self
over you.. this haiku too your handy bouquet now

without any name of separation.. as
festivities we glue in a bondedness.

oo.. in an innate integral call..  doves
arrive onto these awaiting shoulders

oh my blushing palm inflorescence.. touch
me deep, to shy away now your flushing reds

yearns raiding our youthfulness…a such
vulnerable youth in struggle.. is it bearable




(final refrain)

oh ho.. on a befallen power-cut day.. here
you arrive as lightning, a sparking electricity
oh come here..  soon come here
a brightly~ lit… my lighted flower


oh ho.. on a befallen power-cut day.. here
you arrive as lightning, a sparking electricity
oh come here..  soon come here
a brightly~ lit..my lighted flower


drawing my soul canvas…  you
are a pure will in possession

driving my wintry bitterness..
you pierce as soothing summer  

am calling you now
in all hearty bow.. my love

when the rain~ clouds gather, why will
not this peacock unveil dancing feathers..

am calling you now
in all hearty bow.. my love

love, this love .. is a fervorous  fever
that comes along as timeless conquer
aadaam~ evaal  made this art of love.. still
this eternal series continues.. quenchless




*unique words: 138