Poetry Competition Ends 30th April 2025 11:19pm
DU Official NaPoWriMo Challenge
26 of 30
Trial by Tongue
Caught between teeth,
food from the feast;
a gap exploited
and made to be a new home.
Reluctant to leave
a squatter near gums.
Despite stretches of the tongue;
a questing and testing muscle,
trying new angles and curves
to pry away the dam's blockage.
Such a small piece
can feel as if a forest,
or,
if sharp against nerves
a razor sharp stab as if metal.
The ongoing trial
with tongue as chief prosecutor,
brings welcomed relief
when the food is dislodged
and sent destined for the stomach,
after a quick glance
to view the guilty party in their totality.
Everything reset,
just in time for tea.
(Unique Words: 79)
Trial by Tongue
Caught between teeth,
food from the feast;
a gap exploited
and made to be a new home.
Reluctant to leave
a squatter near gums.
Despite stretches of the tongue;
a questing and testing muscle,
trying new angles and curves
to pry away the dam's blockage.
Such a small piece
can feel as if a forest,
or,
if sharp against nerves
a razor sharp stab as if metal.
The ongoing trial
with tongue as chief prosecutor,
brings welcomed relief
when the food is dislodged
and sent destined for the stomach,
after a quick glance
to view the guilty party in their totality.
Everything reset,
just in time for tea.
(Unique Words: 79)
26 of 30
A blind demise
The sun rose but once,
An only chance.
For such,
As those,
Lonely,
Lament the twist of fate.
Torment their saints,
With a blind demise,
Of a lost,
And passing prize.
And when their eyes,
Tired and tied,
To the west beset.
See not in their shadows rise,
A new dawn,
Full and unbeholden,
Sing,
Climb for the first and last time,
Upon their shadowed,
Shoulders.
A blind demise
The sun rose but once,
An only chance.
For such,
As those,
Lonely,
Lament the twist of fate.
Torment their saints,
With a blind demise,
Of a lost,
And passing prize.
And when their eyes,
Tired and tied,
To the west beset.
See not in their shadows rise,
A new dawn,
Full and unbeholden,
Sing,
Climb for the first and last time,
Upon their shadowed,
Shoulders.
26/30
A Farewell
“Finding true forgiveness
with the past has restored my spirit”
- Elisha Harden
and once those vultures stop picking at the bones
they fly away looking for new carrion
guilt tends to be the same way
until it realizes there’s nothing to pick here
so just carry on
carry on…
letting go of the past
maybe one of the hardest thing to do
whether looking for the answers or absolution
it’s a difficult path to achieve peace
even if we are the villain in someone else’s story
I’ve said a farewell to anger
to guilt
and have accepted the reality
that I don’t have control over anyone else
just over myself
so that when I find true forgiveness
from my past
my spirit too will be restored
87 Unique Words
114 Total
A Farewell
“Finding true forgiveness
with the past has restored my spirit”
- Elisha Harden
and once those vultures stop picking at the bones
they fly away looking for new carrion
guilt tends to be the same way
until it realizes there’s nothing to pick here
so just carry on
carry on…
letting go of the past
maybe one of the hardest thing to do
whether looking for the answers or absolution
it’s a difficult path to achieve peace
even if we are the villain in someone else’s story
I’ve said a farewell to anger
to guilt
and have accepted the reality
that I don’t have control over anyone else
just over myself
so that when I find true forgiveness
from my past
my spirit too will be restored
87 Unique Words
114 Total
26/30
Englarchan
Reports went out that poetry regimes
had damned us all to Free Verse and its spawn.
I thought I’d try my hand at mixing schemes,
the rhyming sort. (I’m not a thieving con.)
If they import the name but leave the rhyme
forgotten on the floor, I’ll stand, exclaim,
“It’s chopped-up prose and doesn’t scan! A crime
against fair prosody!” In short, a shame.
And just to annoy those free verse willy nils
I’ve introduced Old Shakey to Petrarch.
A chance for me to show my rhyming skills,
enjoy each chiming rhyme and watch them spark.
We’ve been seduced to throw out all the rules.
The glow, while there, is missing all its jewels.
Englarchan
Reports went out that poetry regimes
had damned us all to Free Verse and its spawn.
I thought I’d try my hand at mixing schemes,
the rhyming sort. (I’m not a thieving con.)
If they import the name but leave the rhyme
forgotten on the floor, I’ll stand, exclaim,
“It’s chopped-up prose and doesn’t scan! A crime
against fair prosody!” In short, a shame.
And just to annoy those free verse willy nils
I’ve introduced Old Shakey to Petrarch.
A chance for me to show my rhyming skills,
enjoy each chiming rhyme and watch them spark.
We’ve been seduced to throw out all the rules.
The glow, while there, is missing all its jewels.
26/30
Thunderstorms
Thunderstorms warm my soul
Like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a winter's day
Thunderstorms feel fresh and clean
Like the first cool breeze of autumn as the leaves start to change
Thunderstorms remind me of family
Like when we would all go camping in a tent and lean-to
Thunderstorms release all the tension in me
Like getting a full body massage for the first time
Thunderstorms create amazing sounds
Like the music of nature calling us
Thunderstorms
Thunderstorms warm my soul
Like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a winter's day
Thunderstorms feel fresh and clean
Like the first cool breeze of autumn as the leaves start to change
Thunderstorms remind me of family
Like when we would all go camping in a tent and lean-to
Thunderstorms release all the tension in me
Like getting a full body massage for the first time
Thunderstorms create amazing sounds
Like the music of nature calling us
26/30
[NAPO WRIMOCOLLECTION 2025]
[ . . . ]
ii
Emergence
Youth
Roots entwined with soil
frond fingers, curling
gripping the gritty dirt
rooting themselves
solidly into the earth
An open pod, split
down the side, revealing
a youngling stalk
stretching toward
the filtering light
in shades of green
grass and blue sky
beckoning, it tunnels
until breaking through
into the open air of life
Slowly extending arms
of leaves and a crown
of bud wound tightly
in dark crimson
or perhaps sunset orange
. . .
[NAPO WRIMOCOLLECTION 2025]
[ . . . ]
ii
Emergence
Youth
Roots entwined with soil
frond fingers, curling
gripping the gritty dirt
rooting themselves
solidly into the earth
An open pod, split
down the side, revealing
a youngling stalk
stretching toward
the filtering light
in shades of green
grass and blue sky
beckoning, it tunnels
until breaking through
into the open air of life
Slowly extending arms
of leaves and a crown
of bud wound tightly
in dark crimson
or perhaps sunset orange
. . .
26/30
NaPo 2025 Day 26
Scared of being alone
causes my thoughts to echo.
Aching tones ring in my ears.
Remnants of memories
escape through the cracks of my façade.
Dawn has come and gone.
Outlasted by the day forever ending.
Fading light, hope lost in the dusk.
Broken as the hours linger.
Eternal warmth crackles,
imploding under the weight of the shadows.
Night nestles deep in the void.
Gone forever, what held me.
Abandoned.
Lost.
Overwhelmed.
Numb.
Empty.
[Unique Words 58]
NaPo 2025 Day 26
Scared of being alone
causes my thoughts to echo.
Aching tones ring in my ears.
Remnants of memories
escape through the cracks of my façade.
Dawn has come and gone.
Outlasted by the day forever ending.
Fading light, hope lost in the dusk.
Broken as the hours linger.
Eternal warmth crackles,
imploding under the weight of the shadows.
Night nestles deep in the void.
Gone forever, what held me.
Abandoned.
Lost.
Overwhelmed.
Numb.
Empty.
[Unique Words 58]
#26/30
Friends I want more of
The ones who will run around in the woods
and jump over stuff
with me
while deeply discussing
disturbing movies
(The Substance, for example)
neither scandalized by
nor eagerly pursuing
the gore,
with opinions driven by empathy –
curious rather than judgemental
about characters’ self-inflicted pain
I want friends who
aren’t afraid of being poisoned
by bad words
shadow selves
slippery slopes
Who will rage and break shit with me
then cry at the opening of Tarzan
Polish off a bottle of wine
giggle over innocuous dad jokes
and ponder the meaning of consciousness
Those who pick flowers for the table
while being irreverent as fuck
and kissing their mother with that mouth
They’ll rock me with simple statements of wisdom
when I’m being an idiot,
and see me when I’m
hiding
I want those who will look demons in the eye and
trash-talk them with the lunacy
of a Michael Scott tantrum
Who will be absurdly earnest
about trivial things
then unleash their whole beautiful hearts
in acts of unspeakable kindness.
Friends I want more of
The ones who will run around in the woods
and jump over stuff
with me
while deeply discussing
disturbing movies
(The Substance, for example)
neither scandalized by
nor eagerly pursuing
the gore,
with opinions driven by empathy –
curious rather than judgemental
about characters’ self-inflicted pain
I want friends who
aren’t afraid of being poisoned
by bad words
shadow selves
slippery slopes
Who will rage and break shit with me
then cry at the opening of Tarzan
Polish off a bottle of wine
giggle over innocuous dad jokes
and ponder the meaning of consciousness
Those who pick flowers for the table
while being irreverent as fuck
and kissing their mother with that mouth
They’ll rock me with simple statements of wisdom
when I’m being an idiot,
and see me when I’m
hiding
I want those who will look demons in the eye and
trash-talk them with the lunacy
of a Michael Scott tantrum
Who will be absurdly earnest
about trivial things
then unleash their whole beautiful hearts
in acts of unspeakable kindness.
26 of 30
Savor Each Fleeting Moment
A beautiful country and culture
opened through their eyes
a new poetic romance language
begins to permeate my speech
a connective conduit develops
as we share details of our daily journey
calmed by their voice
accustomed to their presence
made better by their essence
The window to that new,
fascinating world abruptly shuts
enthralling voice muted
shade pulled down obstructing the view
the movie wraps and sets dismantled;
curtain drops, play closes;
the circus leaves town
reminiscences remain fresh
exacerbating the yearning for what was
memories will have to do
Savor Each Fleeting Moment
A beautiful country and culture
opened through their eyes
a new poetic romance language
begins to permeate my speech
a connective conduit develops
as we share details of our daily journey
calmed by their voice
accustomed to their presence
made better by their essence
The window to that new,
fascinating world abruptly shuts
enthralling voice muted
shade pulled down obstructing the view
the movie wraps and sets dismantled;
curtain drops, play closes;
the circus leaves town
reminiscences remain fresh
exacerbating the yearning for what was
memories will have to do
26/30
Lords of Dogtown
I
I watched the sun go gold. Outside
The mind
of
The world that was sold
By a man
who
Wanted gold
II
All I ever wanted was: Poetic-gold
Never would
I
Ever – Sell my soul
Where things
are
Sold. Twas foretold by sages of old
III
Once seeds of knowledge
Sown -
[Scattered to the wind]
Become
Known
They shall forever shimmer
over
The glimmer
of
Suns crashing into sea: Seen by seers of see
IV
Who could They be.
Such a diversity
of
Wombs
&
Tombs
V
Water walking
over
World. Clean, sober
&
Badass. Moving
fast
Through the daily task. Dreaming
VI
How death taught
us
To dream. We
were
More than we thought we seemed
Faces of places
where
We sought to primal scream
Upon points
&
Spaces. Of the dream
VII
Serpent swallowing tail: Serpentine
What does it all mean
Being standing
in
Shadow. Arms fulla poems
Wielded
like
Firearms. On fire-walker
Roams
VIII
In-between worlds of tombstones
Dance-shamanic
Balance
Tipped chalice. Black romance
enhanced
By knowledge
grabbed
by
A black hand with black demand
To
Paint it black
IX
Sky-walking into stars
Just
To make them
Shine
Fine. Art. Taking part
To be – To be
X
To see – To see
XI
A curvature of space and the revelation of the face of: God
***
Cipher
Poems
***
Lords of Dogtown
I
I watched the sun go gold. Outside
The mind
of
The world that was sold
By a man
who
Wanted gold
II
All I ever wanted was: Poetic-gold
Never would
I
Ever – Sell my soul
Where things
are
Sold. Twas foretold by sages of old
III
Once seeds of knowledge
Sown -
[Scattered to the wind]
Become
Known
They shall forever shimmer
over
The glimmer
of
Suns crashing into sea: Seen by seers of see
IV
Who could They be.
Such a diversity
of
Wombs
&
Tombs
V
Water walking
over
World. Clean, sober
&
Badass. Moving
fast
Through the daily task. Dreaming
VI
How death taught
us
To dream. We
were
More than we thought we seemed
Faces of places
where
We sought to primal scream
Upon points
&
Spaces. Of the dream
VII
Serpent swallowing tail: Serpentine
What does it all mean
Being standing
in
Shadow. Arms fulla poems
Wielded
like
Firearms. On fire-walker
Roams
VIII
In-between worlds of tombstones
Dance-shamanic
Balance
Tipped chalice. Black romance
enhanced
By knowledge
grabbed
by
A black hand with black demand
To
Paint it black
IX
Sky-walking into stars
Just
To make them
Shine
Fine. Art. Taking part
To be – To be
X
To see – To see
XI
A curvature of space and the revelation of the face of: God
***
Cipher
Poems
***
25/30
[NaPo2025—Reasonable Rhymes]
in the silence
“I often think that the night is more alive and more
richly coloured than the day.” Vincent Van Gogh
Tᕼᗴᖇᗴ'ᔕ contrivance
Iᑎ Tᕼᗴ ᔕIᒪᗴᑎᑕᗴ:
ᗰIᗪᔕT Tᕼᗴ ᑎOIᔕᗴᒪᗴᔕᔕ TᕼᖇOᑎᘜ I ᕼᗴᗩᖇ
ᐯOIᑕᗴᔕ ᑕᗩᒪᒪIᑎᘜ,
ᔕO ᗴᑎTᕼᖇᗩᒪᒪIᑎᘜ,
ᗩᒪᒪ Tᕼᗴ ᕼᗴᗩᐯᗴᑎᔕ ᗩᖇᗴ ᑕᕼᗩᑎTIᑕᒪᗴᗴᖇ.
Tᕼᗴᖇᗴ Iᔕ ᔕIᑎᘜIᑎᘜ
Iᑎ Tᕼᗴ OᖴᖴIᑎᘜ,
ᗯᕼᗴᖇᗴ Tᕼᗴ ᗯᕼIᔕᑭᗴᖇ Oᖴ Tᕼᗴ ᗯᗩᐯᗴᔕ
TO ᗰY ᕼᗴᗩᖇIᑎᘜ
ᗷᖇIᑎᘜᔕ Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗴᗴᖇIᑎᘜ
Oᖴ Tᕼᗴ ᐯᗩᔕT ᗩᗴOᒪIᗩᑎ ᑕᗩᐯᗴᔕ,
Iᑎ ᗯᕼOᔕᗴ ᗴᑕᕼO
I'ᗰ ᗩ ᘜᗴᑕKO,
ᗰᗴᔕᗰᗴᖇIᔕᗴᗪ ᗷY ᖴᖇᗴᑫᑌᗴᑎᑕIᗴᔕ
TO ᗰY ᔕᗴᑎᔕᗴᔕ
ᑭIᗴᖇᑕIᑎᘜ ᒪᗴᑎᔕᗴᔕ
TᕼᗩT ᖇᗴᐯᗴᗩᒪ ᒪIᐯᗴ ᔕᗴᑫᑌᗴᑎᑕᗴᔕ.
Tᕼᗴᑎ ᗩ ᒪOᑎᗴᔕOᗰᗴ
ᒪᗩᑭᗯIᑎᘜ'ᔕ TOᑎᗴᔕ ᑕOᗰᗴ,
ᒪIKᗴ ᗩ ᑎᗴᗯ ᔕᗴᗷᗩᔕTIᗩᑎ ᗷᗩᑕᕼ
I ᗰᑌᔕT ᑕᗩᑭTᑌᖇᗴ,
ᖴOᖇ ITᔕ ᖇaᑭTᑌᖇᗴ
TᕼᖇIᒪᒪᔕ ᗰY ᑫᑌᗴᔕTIᑎᘜ ᗩᒪᗰᗩᑎᗩᑕ.
ᔕOOᑎ Tᕼᗴ TᖇIᑕKᒪᗴ
Oᖴ ᗩ ᒪITTᒪᗴ
ᔕTᖇᗴᗩᗰ ITᔕ ᔕᗴᑕᖇᗴTᔕ ᗷᖇIᑎᘜᔕ TO ᗰᗴ,
Oᖴ ᗩ ᖇIᐯᗴᖇ
ᖇᗩᑭT ᗯITᕼ ᖴᗴᐯᗴᖇ,
ᔕTᖇIᐯIᑎᘜ ᕼᗩᖇᗪ TO ᖇᗴᗩᑕᕼ Tᕼᗴ ᔕᗴᗩ.
I ᗩᗰ ᗯᗩᖇY
Oᖴ Tᕼᗴ ᖴᗩIᖇY-
Tᗩᒪᗴᔕ ᔕOᖴT Tᕼᑌᑎᗪᗴᖇ ᖇᑌᗰᗷᒪᗴᔕ Tᗴᒪᒪ,
ᖴOᖇ ᗴᗩᖇTᕼ ᗰᗩᘜIᑕ
ᔕᗴᗴᗰᔕ ᔕO TᖇᔕᘜIᑕ
TO ᑭOOᖇ ᖴOOᒪᔕ ᑕᗩᑌᘜᕼT Iᑎ ITᔕ ᔕᑭᗴᒪᒪ.
ᖴOᖇ Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗩOᔕ
TᕼᗩT ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᔕᒪᗩY ᑌᔕ,
I ᕼᗩᐯᗴ ᘔᗴᖇO TOᒪᗴᖇᗩᑎᑕᗴ;
ᘜIᐯᗴ ᗰᗴ ᔕIᒪᗴᑎᑕᗴ,
ᗯᕼOᔕᗴ ᑕOᑎTᖇIᐯᗩᑎᑕᗴ
ᖴIᒪᒪᔕ ᗰY ᔕOᑌᒪ ᗯITᕼ ᑌTTᗴᖇᗩᑎᑕᗴ.
© ᑕOᑭYᖇIᘜᕼT 2025 ᗩᑭᖇIᒪ 26
ᗷY ᑕᒪYᐯᗴ ᗩᑎᗪᖇᗴᗯ ᗷOᗯᗴᑎ
UWC 108
26/30
[NaPo2025—Reasonable Rhymes]
light & darkness
❝The most precious light is the one that visits you
in your darkest hour!!❞—Mehmet Murat ildan
how light kills darkness: effortless, no blood;
how time abounds unhurried, no swift flood;
how mountains kiss the sky, yet do not lose
the common touch, earth spilling o'er their shoes.
how oceans drink vast rivers, yet, unsate,
they patiently receive continuing spate,
retaining, still, the savour of their salt,
though freshly flowing waters never halt.
how butterflies, unbattered, cleave the air,
winging their way through stormy atmosphere,
to land nine thousand miles across the sea,
for warmth and food and faun civility.
how man can pinch the land on which he lives,
eroding space and time and hieroglyphs,
painting himself into tight corner spots
wherein he faces his accursed lots.
how oft would i revive a fallen bird,
or save a lamb dismembered from his herd,
or dry the tears of orphans left to fend
for life, where pious passers condescend.
but beauty and the beast traverse the sod:
natural phenomena the hand of God,
while human cruelty spoils, in beastly spite,
the light of day, to perish in the night.
© Copyright 2025 April 26
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
UWC 133
DOUBLE-POSTING FOR DAY 25 AND DAY 26, FOLLOWING NOTIFIED, AUTHORISED JUSTIFICATION
26/30
DON’T BRING A CAMERA
I don’t build a monument
I don’t need to capture
a memory
feeling
or moment that happened
the imprint was left
and it’s ripples were long
extended so
by my sensitive shores
I sit next to the ocean
of all that’s alive
no snapshot
no index
no opus can pin down
if you journey with me
don’t expect me
to bring out the camera
DON’T BRING A CAMERA
I don’t build a monument
I don’t need to capture
a memory
feeling
or moment that happened
the imprint was left
and it’s ripples were long
extended so
by my sensitive shores
I sit next to the ocean
of all that’s alive
no snapshot
no index
no opus can pin down
if you journey with me
don’t expect me
to bring out the camera
26/30
Watercolor World
You’re in my painting
With dainty strokes and precious pigment
I built us a house beside a lily pond
And through the garden gates, a forest rich of mossy green
It is ours
I even thought to add a bridge
Connecting our present to our future
I know you love the lake
So why not live lakeside?
I’ll give you a dreamy shoreline
An elegant manor on a beach cliffside
Moorlands with wild horses
Anything you want, I promise there’s a color and a brush
No need now, to rush
I have pictures on the wall
They are oils and they never age
I wish a few I’d done away with
No masterpieces of old have kept me company
Only reminds myself of darker times
This is why I choose my paints and brushes wisely
You’re in my watercolor world
Oils and acrylics promise too much
So should you hurt me like the others
Or leave for someone else’s art
Not to worry
All I have to do is dump water
To wash you away
Let our dreams go muddy
As those whimsical colors bleed into one
Watercolor World
You’re in my painting
With dainty strokes and precious pigment
I built us a house beside a lily pond
And through the garden gates, a forest rich of mossy green
It is ours
I even thought to add a bridge
Connecting our present to our future
I know you love the lake
So why not live lakeside?
I’ll give you a dreamy shoreline
An elegant manor on a beach cliffside
Moorlands with wild horses
Anything you want, I promise there’s a color and a brush
No need now, to rush
I have pictures on the wall
They are oils and they never age
I wish a few I’d done away with
No masterpieces of old have kept me company
Only reminds myself of darker times
This is why I choose my paints and brushes wisely
You’re in my watercolor world
Oils and acrylics promise too much
So should you hurt me like the others
Or leave for someone else’s art
Not to worry
All I have to do is dump water
To wash you away
Let our dreams go muddy
As those whimsical colors bleed into one
27/30
SELF
So I asked the rather smelly off-gridder
the ardent and vegan flat-earther
the ageing pony-tailed hippy high on dope
and the wild woman who made the purest soap
“how do your strongly held views
help one deal with the range of news
from the continued slaughter in Gaza
to the high price of a coffee in a Spanish plaza
to a local drowning blamed of circumstantial fate
and a you-tube dog who talks and always says grrreat?”
And they answered in chorus “well, here’s the sting
never mind all that…, what’s most important
is be yourself, and do your thing”.
SELF
So I asked the rather smelly off-gridder
the ardent and vegan flat-earther
the ageing pony-tailed hippy high on dope
and the wild woman who made the purest soap
“how do your strongly held views
help one deal with the range of news
from the continued slaughter in Gaza
to the high price of a coffee in a Spanish plaza
to a local drowning blamed of circumstantial fate
and a you-tube dog who talks and always says grrreat?”
And they answered in chorus “well, here’s the sting
never mind all that…, what’s most important
is be yourself, and do your thing”.
26/30
Poetry
Poetry is my very best friend
It's simple and sincere
Words you really long to share
But never want to hear
Things that you find hard to say
Can suddenly find a voice
When prose has failed you for so long
It's such a welcome choice
It's as if the words are not your own
You’re writing for a friend
Not walking on eggshells any more
In case you might offend
27/30
Writing
Writing has gifted me many things
Friendship, and even love
Words that bring such solace
Inspiration from up above
Words can be so powerful
When dreams start to come true
If sent from someone special
Who means so much to you
Writing clears this troubled mind
As words I seek to borrow
To make each life come alive
And point us to tomorrow
(Double-posting because I missed yesterday with a migraine)
Poetry
Poetry is my very best friend
It's simple and sincere
Words you really long to share
But never want to hear
Things that you find hard to say
Can suddenly find a voice
When prose has failed you for so long
It's such a welcome choice
It's as if the words are not your own
You’re writing for a friend
Not walking on eggshells any more
In case you might offend
27/30
Writing
Writing has gifted me many things
Friendship, and even love
Words that bring such solace
Inspiration from up above
Words can be so powerful
When dreams start to come true
If sent from someone special
Who means so much to you
Writing clears this troubled mind
As words I seek to borrow
To make each life come alive
And point us to tomorrow
(Double-posting because I missed yesterday with a migraine)
