Official DUP NaPo/GloProWrimo 2018

ImperfectedStone said:Sugar! I edited! I am so sorry! What do I do? Do I delete and reenter something else that's new and unedited, what is the protocol here? I am really sorry!

Just leave it be, while the NaPo gods convene around an active volcano roasting their marshmellows as they decide your fate.

Flooding
(trisect)
formule poésie érotique 4/30

Bald Peak
That rounded peak emerge from ridgelined meet,
In shrouds, the merge and press of nature’s thrust.
How ‘spends beyond, above the valley’s seat.

The point as if with longer cropping truss
A greater height from shorter ridge append
That gains in furrowed rill with storm’s discuss

The graceful waves the ridges inward send
Their lines, in introspection, vale’s define
Thus soften the assail of Thor’s impend.

Still high above the wash, the peak’s incline,
That seems to grow in girth with forces greet,
Though quake and thunder seek its undermine.


Roots
How deep the peak roots delve and twist,
Surround the river tunnel’s long pursuit,
Two mighty wings shield torrent’s gate persist.

In simple stream that stems from mountain’s root
That wash and drive its path to valley’s banks
How storm can rage the waters flooding chute.

For in oblivion’s attacking planks,
In nature’s power driven mad, enrage,
In mountain core, the muscled rock hold ranks.

Though tremors gain, in every hold engage,
And roots may shake with every pulse insist,
Through thunders rale, the peak, the gale assuage.

Deluge
Still peak exposed above to take its brunt,
As tempest rise in comings wake intent,
The mountain vale awaits its hard affront.

In squalls it comes, the first in waves assent,
That swells in shudders, hills enliven quick,
And soon, the waters blast in unrelent.


Born in electric flash and wet storm lick,
That seethe the bald peak stationed wings entreat,
Burst rushing forth as from a geysered spick’.

How ‘spends beyond, above the valley’s seat.
In shrouds, the merge and press of nature’s thrust
That rounded peak, emerge from ridgelined meet.

😇/😈

(see profile posting for illumination)


 

Paint

(NaPo #4, April 4, 2018)


May said not to be afraid
of color, she, with
the Auschwitz tattoo
on her wrist.

She’d lived a thousand lifetimes, yet
her eyes still danced
at the prospect of a
lovely violet, ready
to adorn some wall.

It is no wonder
that May took all the colors
and hoarded them in her store,
passing them out
one by one, to
those who needed a hue
of their own;

she surpassed the grays
of imprisonment, keeping
hope alive.

I took her advice, and
became brave—

It looked lovely in the can,
the paint, but
even more right, on its intended
target.

Each time the insatiable urge
comes, to pick up the brush,
I always ask

“What would May, choose?”

4/30


Therefore

I write and draw
therefore I am;
constantly creative
ever in throes of
personal reality

deliberate
or
unawaringly

Otherwise
we're no different
in how we live

Glaring
your eyes judging me
with your want
I should give
into expectation;
how I would best
behave

Bold text
italic font
sarcastically

next inquiry
How may I serve
as your slave?

Never apologize
for the manner
in which you survive

This was taught by
someone close to my
Heart

it's what's kept me
spiritually alive

And ... now?

I'll be damned
if I fucking start









for Ahavati with Love

💜

4.

Worms and Dirt


Worms and dirt
that is all that is need for company really
as in the end
they are our terminal fate,
embracing decaying bodies
bereft of sparks of motion
beyond the barrier above
where there is life and loss
enough to make death seem preferable,
especially when there are plenty of bastards
to disappoint and grind you down
until only food for worms
and ash for earth remains,
Final friends who do not judge
and are only quiet company
as the flesh and time slide away
into oblivion past care
completely content
given any appearance or shape
if just to absorb and decompose
in grateful artful composition
of life and living by death and dying
enough to make the bones rattle
in carefree satisfaction
as their weight is lifted, consumed, pulled,
off chests once held and refrained
where air used to rush in and out of
to make words the worms cannot hear,
for we are wriggling worms
in foul earth.
At least it feels like that some days.

(Unique words: 116.)

Sir Plus    - -  -  - - - (4/30)

as a child there was always twenty three
kids all desperately wanting to play soccer
I only ever got picked to be a goal post
even Tommy who had polio got a game

How could I forget the school dances and
dance lessons where the girls got to pick
I was always the one left behind to sulk
and had to dance with the smelly teacher

I remember theatre days when auditions
were unfair I always wanted to play the
leading man - The hot romantic interest
I just got tired turning and trying out

they say one out of five men are gay
if I am in a group of five men; I know
I am not gay as far as I am aware but
the other four are positive It must be

I remember the life I had so dreamed of
and how it turned to ashes and dust
cheated on, sat on, shat on, spat on
gossip turned me into a figure of hate

despite trying to be a good man
a good husband, a good father
all my good efforts dashed by Lies
trying to be somebody I became nobody

Nobody of any real regard or standing
somebody to be shunned and ignored
somebody to be hidden or forgotten
all for trying to be good and honest

at age 57 I was finally touched by real love
almost just too late, the first in 57 years
felt like rescue at last: the question however
will I fuck it up and yet again become
Surplus to requirements

5/30
Gratitude

Afflicted deterioration
endured all I could withstand
allowing something greater
to acquisition command

Instantaneous reprieve
bestowed upon my being
obsession of the soul
intriguingly freeing

Fashioned butterfly wings
seeking ascension
value of acceptance
eases apprehension

Elevated through gratitude
sensing merciful grace
humbling catharsis
inclination to embrace

Supplicated forgiveness
obliged at my request
least I not forget
the many ways I'm blessed

4/30

In My Death A Rebirth
I spill my guts as death and time come for me
I hold onto the flowers of life while death is all I see
It won’t be very long now til he comes round the bend
Or he’ll send his four horsemen where life they come to tend
I don’t know what I’ve done to accept so cruel a fate
I tried to do the right thing always pleasant never late
Though some cruel knife has found me with wielded crueler still
Who laughed as the blood began to pour and to the floor I kneel
Choking on blood now as my vision begins to blur
He’s long gone this I know but I hear something stir
Or I think I did but I’m not sure, do I hallucinate
I hear a creaking beyond my sight, sounds much like our old gate
A cold dog creeps along the floor as I grab for something unknown
The temperature continues to drop a feeling I’ve not known
It’s summer now so why is this feeling of cold so strong
I suddenly hear the footsteps, now I know it won’t be long
With the footsteps, every two a hollow thump can be heard
I wish to call or for help but I cannot utter a word
My vision suddenly disappears and is replaced by a twinkling black
The footsteps have stopped and now I am ready for some attack
But no harm comes to me and instead lifted into arms
Something is lifting me up now and I am coming to no harm
No words need to be spoken and I no longer feel the choke
It took only a moment before this person holding me spoke
“It is your time my flower, time for us to go
I’m sorry it had to be this way but you’re needed at your final home
I didn’t want it to be this way but I had no other hope
For you would not be granted entry if you took your life with a rope
Which would have happened if I left you to your own device
I never thought it’d be this messy but I hope my words suffice
I cannot take the discomfort from your last moments on earth
But I can bring you happiness and love when in death you experience rebirth”
And so it seems this man walked with me held high up in his arms
Into a warm comforting place, safe from such human harms
With the rebirth into death my sight became returned
So in death and much with life, so much was I to learn

History



I am convinced
we are history
observed:

Children surrounded by adults
who don’t seem to listen.
Their serious tears drying
on wind chapped cheeks
while they march and describe
all to familiar
active shooter drills
turned
Active Shooter Situation.

They make note of those who
offer practical suggestions
and those who line their pockets
with blood money.

They are the
people who try.
Their young voices shaking,
demanding to be
heard.

I hope they keep
yelling until their voices
fail.

Then I hope they lift up
the next.

*****
Day 4 of 30

4/30

The Birds, They Sing no More

The sound of silence echoes through the trees
The world is sleeping
Or maybe it’s hibernating
The birds, they sing no more

Just yesterday they were humming from the rooftops
Nestled in branches of evergreen
They were building nests from twigs and string
The birds, they sing no more

Days are passing, Seasons changing
Faster the hour tick tock tick tocks
The birds, they sing no more

Maybe it’s all a dream, maybe we’re crazy
Because the memory of birds is slowly fading
Even the sound of wind and falling leaves
Tell me why, the birds, they sing no more...

JohnnyBlaze said:

Just leave it be, while the NaPo gods convene around an active volcano roasting their marshmellows as they decide your fate.



Muahahahaha 🔥

4/30

cloudy day wants song

Rain,
that's how music is;
swelling,
much too heavy to hold in -

It drops those notes -
one, two,
three, four,
more -

then pours,

feeding the begging earth,
knocking on the hopeful city;
its asphalt dance floor
home to softened steps
that dodge, perhaps, or splash
where the music's left its puddles
of rainy happiness.

He Used To Say


When my dad
handed
his life support ticket in
We cried
like babies
We rewrote
pages of his life

Three siblings
with a common goal
and no regrets

The funeral was
ridiculously hard
but we did it

We had a common goal
Look after our mother

I woke up one night
wondering
is this
what he meant
when he said
"If you stand on top of the mountain
you can see
all around you."

That's when I understood
that some people
live with you
forever


[~ <3 ~]


Entry 5
Letters to Society, God
& The Goddess
GloPoWriMo 2018
April 5th