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Official DUP NaPo/GloProWrimo 2018

poet
ImperfectedStone
P M Banks
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 960

13.30
UW: 164


Down on my knees
- Words from Demeter


The world is a screaming, untuned radio.
If we're to drown, in our own hate and evil, let it happen today.
I don't want to see my daughter shaking inside like a cat in a bag,
questioning truths between adverts, films,
books, blogs, wars and narcotics
that tell her the only logical ways
of living are linear against her curves,
making her sore, building stories the weight of mountains.

The crazed eyes of those
with far too much money and power
making shocking government gambles
condemning another's children to violence

permanent trauma.
I've seen it all now,


I know about swallowing down my privilege
sat in the low light of my heated home. I know about white tears. And yet

I make plans, where she believes
she could make a difference, she could save a someone without a gun
with a letter, with a moment, with her voice
knowing the truths
that people will judge her because of her gender,
believing her to be weaker,
more prone to complaining, because of her colouring,
knowing still, in this modern world, she'll likely get more purely because of it,
knowing the country of her birth has destroyed so many.
It all stinks, it is all so congested and dirty.
I don't want her to suffer herself,
as we all do, regardless
of our faith, race, outlook.
I want a world, with a people she can love, where she can be a thread
In other's joy
and I can dance with her through the Summer.
Hades, why can't we be kind?
Why can't they?
For now, settle in what you're lucky to have, sit down in the grass, somewhere sunny, inhale the Viburnum,
that's only 'not quite as good' as valium.

poet
poetryaccident
Fire of Insight
United States
13awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 30th Oct 2016
Forum Posts: 161

13/30

Fellow Traveler

Fellow traveler on this road
echo of what I've found
it's enough though not the same
walk with me for a short time
you may have thought you were alone
isolated from the those who cared
with a burden that none should have
solitude was the difference.

I recognize the power held within
in the folds of your soul
battered by the storms invoked
by the tyrants of dogma's bent
they seek to ignore this path
as one that would be right
imagine blasphemies of the heart
blackness absent in our sight.

We pilgrims of the fallen gods
rejected by the righteous folk
wander in the barren lands
far from acceptance of the whole
there is no love in this response
I'll gladly tell you it's all bunk
we're perfection outside of flaws
they are our own to celebrate.

You're not alone on this trail
by the map of life's due fate
we'll keep our company for a time
moving forward while others join
soon the crowd will fill the path
shoulders touching to reassure
defying wisdom held above
where there's one, there will be more.

poet
mel44
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 205

13/30
Spring Promises

Perspective altered, seasons changed
winter’s end, emotional thawing
eagerness to feel renewal
as frigid cold is withdrawing

longing to remain present
in current time and place
casting away frozen memories
promise of fervour does erase

gifting nature’s pure energy
initiating spiritual connection
as sunshine warms
wrapping with protection

assurance of lifted spirits
supplying heart nourishment
guaranteed grace
offering soul replenishment

essence of liveliness
to hope I cling
equanimity occurs
the solace of spring

poet
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
45awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 1455

And then there were 20 ( again )? No! Wait!  21 ( again )! Nope, 19! We're rounding the bend, poets!

Greetings, Poets! Welcome to (Fri)DAY 13!  Lucky for some; unlucky for others! One more sleep and you're half way there!  

Remember! If you see a black cat cross the road today, it's going somewhere!

1. Ahavati - I ✔✔✔✔✔
2. JohnnyBlaze - I ✔✔✔✔✔
3. JadePandora - I ✔✔✔✔✔
4. Viddax - I ✔✔✔✔✔
5. Mel44 - I ✔✔✔✔✔✔
6. cloventongue89 - I ✔✔✔✔✔✔
7. David_Macleod - I ✔✔✔✔
8. rowantree I ✔✔✔✔✔
9. ImperfectedStone I ✔✔✔✔✔✔
10. MadameLavender - I ✔✔✔✔✔
11. ThePositivelyDark - I ✔✔
12. RevolutionAl - II
13. DaisyGrace -  I ✔
14. Hepcat61- I ✔✔✔✔✔
15. poetryaccident - I ✔✔✔✔✔✔
16. Thetravelingfairy -I ✔✔✔✔✔
17. MisfitPoet89 - I ✔✔✔✔
18. Samael - I ✔✔✔✔✔
19. Rosegold - I


If your name has been removed,  you haven't posted, and we haven't heard from you in at least three days! If you're a registrant, resume posting ( no more than two a day, subsequently numbered in the same post ), with a footnote or prefix explaining why and you're back in!

As you see, one has already made it to the halfway mark! Congratulations, Al! This will be signified by a II followed by sybsequent ✔'s through week 3!

If I've inadvertently omitted a ✔, my last request before the firing squad is something warm and caramelly!  

30/30 or bust, Poets! 🚌📝

poet
Hepcat61
geoff cat
Dangerous Mind
United States
23awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 27th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 920

Putting Up
(sonnet)
formule poésie érotique 13/30


You ask me how can I put up with you?
Explaining that, it’s hard now, so I’ll try
Such words Erato’s versely length construe:
In you, my “putting up” must full comply.
I would say “putting” seems a simple thing,
And, “up,” well, that would be in nature's plan,
Thus “putting up” exhausts my wanderings,
As “going down” my wandering began.
Those times between, you being on your own,
When all the “putting ” comes from your insist,
It’s then I hope you feel so not alone,
In knowing that my “putting up” persists.
 In delving of your sweetest inquiry,
 Your “putting up” comes easily for me.

😇/😈

poet
MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States
61awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 4453

White

(NaPo #13, April 13, 2018)

Jars of beach sand, pearlized
by foam-laced waves, line
shelves; prizes for having driven
beyond comfort zones , and
found refuge in unknowns.

Beauty in grains,
not one of them matches
the color of light in dreams, white
surpassing human reason.

I've tried to capture this
in sand jars, the hue
during sleep
when I saw what really happened
at your wake.

I tried to keep it just for me,
the moment, as
something tangible, but
could not find the white shade
it was.

The line filed past your coffin.
Your spirit stood unseen to all, receiving
us,
me--

I watched from God's perspective .

You shook hands with everyone,
thanked them for coming, and
told each person
something you loved about them
during life,
while your body lie dormant
behind you.

My turn--
an embrace and
your face buried in my hair, among
whispers of

"Ah Sweet Lisa, you
were my one and only ."

There was so much white--
light,
linens,
confirmations of truths
you may not have even known
until death,
or couldn't put into words
while breath still filled you.

I tried to capture the white
in jars,
for to touch it
would be to touch you, though
there is no earthly match
for a color not of man, but
I will search each sandy dune
until I run out of jars
to fill.

poet
samael
Samael Talmudic
Fire of Insight
United States
7awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 67


"A silent walk through the Doré"


We could speak of falling rebel angels
pursuing Death as war.
hilts of gilded spears that pierce sorrowed hearts so very far.
Ravens setting sail from the scythe's brilliant steel blade.  
Christian Armageddon cut off clouds of white hosts,
crying as life passed from soft pale faces.
 
so they worshiped at the Devils doorstep
with a black hooded goats head.
horns of a harbinger woven upon thorn nest,
and torches burning in the nights shallow air.
 
as men hung from the creaking gallows
stone benches became soapboxes of the same trees ,
high justice birthing sin from boiling mothers milk.
bats swooped from the mountain ranges,
past scarlet robes,
casting ripples that swooped in and saved from salvation.
 
battlefields fed fat as oil barons  
reminisced of smoldering brush fires  
forged down barrels of overturned cannons.
at the cold feet of fathers and brothers,
head smashed in crimson puddles.  
the dirt drinking it's self to gluttony.
 
between the patches of smoke plumes
you could see the oceans waves  
crashing viridian in the distance,
amidst all its splendor past midnight's light house of Alexandria;
relieving field captains of their command.
blue as her eyes as you can best remember,
redeem us from the monsters we've become.
 
living purgatory as the passing of months, millennia;
saw women's torsos,supple breasts
crawling on spider legs bodies.
agony was too archaic to bear.
we fill our graveyards,
the only thing humans are good at.
 
let us set sail from wooden ships, walking waters
to the moons silhouette;  
pelicans flocking underneath on the dunes breeze.
vanishing ice wall canyons call my name.
 
 
the weary shall finally rest in the forest of suicides,
and our memories in the greenest stone valley lochs.
as the storm fades off into the horizons twilight.
three nymphs quell our appetites of young beauty,
dancing naked to the song of nature.


-------------------------------------------------


Inspired by the fantastic art work of Gustave Doré

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustave_Dor%C3%A9

poet
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
110awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 3687



Less a Day Ago  *13/30
( a double Sonnet )

There is no telling if I’ve really grown,
And parted ways with sentiment of trust.
The first day certainly when I left home
To forge ahead my future in its thrust.

You followed me my little sister self,
And tried to match my pace w’ ev’ry step.
To tag along my sprite my faerie elf,
Our memo’ries of time you safely kept.

Those first uncertain years I never flinch’d,
For my unfailing courage came w’ youth.
Towards priv’leged immortality I inch’d,
You held your tongue & kept me from the truth.

In hindsight should my age help me to know,
For I was younger, less a day ago.

The opportunities I could not see
In spite a closer distance I was brought,
With reckless choices often taking me
Away from lessons you & I were taught.

My little self, how could I’ve been so dense?
In lessons of the heart I must have skipped.
God pass’d the hat to give me common sense,
But it was lost in transit when they shipped.

The goodness that is you I thought was me;
I got it wrong for us to be abused.
Because you stayed so close so silently,
I thought you’d gone I selfishly assumed.

It looks like I am you and didn’t know,
For I was younger, less a day ago.




Copyright©️2018 Jade Pandora. All Rights Reserved.    
*NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2018

poet
thepositivelydark
Fire of Insight
Philippines
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 28th Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 94

10/30

Wishes of Girl Infatuated

He noticed the phoenix I drew for homework.
He spoke, and the butterflies were in riot.

Then I was standing in front,
Blabbering in Spanish,
Introducing history -
Slightly shaking,
Sweating from summer.

Then a moment.
He and his friends surprised,
Pointing -
To this wrist,
These scars,
These healing wounds.
And I felt myself
Drop.

I wish I didn't remember
The look in his eyes
When he saw these scars,
These wrists.

I wish I didn't remember,
The way his jaw clenched
As he hissed to his friends
Something I couldn't hear -
As he motioned with his
Index finger and thumb
How a person -
How I -
Would cut myself.

I wish I didn't remember how he frowned,
I wish it didn't stab me with pain.

And as I spoke in front
About bygone days and colonialism and freedom,
As I lost my breath
And my voice,
I wish he wasn't looking down,
Except for a few moments
Where his eyes would burn me.

I wish he wasn't wearing
That one earphone like he did
When I saw him - smiling - in that morning sunlight.

I just wish he'd sing again…


poet
JohnnyBlaze
Dangerous Mind
United States
6awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 836

13/30


[ nonsense ]

Hey-ho na-po
Hey-ho na-po
Hey-ho na-po ...

LET'S-GO!


So down to earth
yet she brings the Lava
hot n heavy

Such a buxom bevy of poetitude;
that Pele chick has nothing on her

Dude!
What of Kali? you ask
Seriously?
Are you kidding me?

Brother, having eight less hands
and one tied behind her back
Ahavati still can multi task
like a motherfucker

A goddess in her own right
A goddess throughout day and night
The epitome of grace and class
She's the one with the most tightest
grasp on English vocabulary

Hey-ho, Johnny ...

Keep it down now;

voices carry .....

Oh-nos

Turn it up

Bring the nonsense!

Let's-go na-po
Let's-go na-po
Let's-go na-po ...

HEY-HO!













for Ahavati with Love

💜




poet
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Guardian of Shadows
United Kingdom
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th Oct 2009
Forum Posts: 6110

13.

Gone Trekking


Space;
merely a blank character between words.
These are the voyages of the
USS Deep Underground,
it's mission;
to explore strange new sentences
to seek out new lines
and new punctuation,
to descriptively go
where no poet has gone before.

On behalf of the United Federation of Planets
they will trek across space
visit strange new wordy worlds
meet new civilisations
such as the Kritiqueons;
a race of highly critical bards,
and fighting against the Bored;
a frightening mass of brainless trolls.

Starring Ahavati as
Captain Anatomy Loss,
JohhnyBlaze as
Commander Prompt Motif.
Also Starring
Jade Pandora as
Lieutenant Commander Tiger La Eros,
Viddax as
Lieutenant Words,
Mel44 as
Dr. Beverly Empathy,
cloventongue89
as Counsellor Inkblot,
David Macleod as
Lieutenant Commander David,
and many more as
cameos beyond this list.

They are always going forwards
because punctuation has no reverse,
it is poetry but not as we know it,
it is worse than that
it is free form poetry
without any pace
with words to kill and thrill!

(Unique words: 118.)

poet
Thetravelingfairy
Thought Provoker
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 35

13/30


My House


The subtle turning of knobs
And the pitter patter of paws on the floorboards
Is all I hear
In my house

Branches tapping on windows
Birds singing outside
How I wish I could fly away too
How I wish I could sing along
In my house

Constant chatter
Raised voices
Nails stick out of the walls
Glass shards litter the bedroom
In my house

The goddamn paintings
I used to hang
Now shoved away
Never speak of them
In my house

It sits atop a hill
Hidden by pines
Fresh air outside
Slowly suffocating
In my house

I didn’t choose this place
I didn’t choose this path
The front door never answers me
If only I could reach the handle
In my house

My house
Doesn’t care if I scream
Doesn’t listen to my cries
Ignores my pleas
This isn’t home
This is my house

poet
David_Macleod
Guardian of Shadows
United States
32awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 5th Nov 2014
Forum Posts: 735

Rose Spexticals Colorés    - - -  - - (12 / 30)
i
He remembers fear and pain
In his home for the insane
He remembers the beatings
His crying and bleatings
His begging and pleadings
Worthless: He was bleeding
Many unanswered prayers
A young boy now despairs
To scared, he never escaped
his childhood cruelly raped
oh so many fears
oh so many tears
caused by a man of  many beers
and as the drunk appears
He tries to close his ears
a hand that always interferes
but in his mind all disappears
it disappears for years and years
for fifty two long, long  years
PTSD reminds him with smears
the flashback demon always sneers
gives memories as horrific souvenirs
stabbing his head with electric spears
inside his head there's racketeers
they are evil minded volunteers
an old man now despairs
he's given up on prayers
his mind is now what's raped
He couldn't have escaped
his hair line now receding
inside his head still  bleedings
nothing but social worker meetings
they're not his friends there are no greetings
It's hard for him to explain
Lived a life so inhumane
They really care not a jot
their two legs they still have got
to get support he'll  have to pay
says he didn't want it anyway
He sits at home and frets
about a life he now regrets
no one even tries to phone
he's alone at home alone
a living damnation

ii
it was calm and loving all the while
a home is where the heart is, style
sober, clean living and perfectly sane
all alcohol goes down the drain
family picnic so ideal, it's surreal
full of joy's he's made to feel
catching butterflies; flying kites
his growing up he just rewrites
a mother's love
a fathers love
siblings who love
thanking him from up above
His gentle hand in a velvet glove
peace by a turtle dove
The radio plays all you need is love
a blessed childhood  had by all
always caught if he should fall
Never beatings, no abuse
a leather belt now has no use
no screaming, no shouting
no raging, no vile spouting
all in all the perfect childhood
being polite and always good
His story line to appeal to the masses
a childhood seen through rose coloured glasses
despite his perfect childhood
he turned out to be no good
your worst nightmare uninvited guest
a serial killer, torturer and sex pest

poet
David_Macleod
Guardian of Shadows
United States
32awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 5th Nov 2014
Forum Posts: 735

Cut the Ties   - - - - (13 / 3O)

I Am a Scottish Man of Thrift
Wasting Money I Give Short Shrift
I Make Do and Mend, I Makeshift
I Smelled a Problem Easily Sniffed
A Time for Action Must Be Swift
What She's Doing Will Cause a Rift
As in My Wallet She Would Sift
And All My Money She'd Uplift
Not a Borrowing, Not a Gift
Simply Stealing, a Simple Lift
She Never Was a Spendthrift
Man That Got Me Really Miffed
Found Her Drunk Totally Squiffed
Of Cheap Vodka Vomit She Whiffed
Tempted to Violence She Needs Biffed
I Have to Help Her Stand and Reshift
She Needs to Take an Upper Gearshift
My Choice Is Just to Cut Her Adrift

poet
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
45awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 1455

Anatomy of Loss

VII.

Today I drove downtown
picked up Dragon's Blood incense
and a Tibitian bell
dangling from a brass elephant

This soothing sound
triggered a forgotten era
long dormant of past lives
entombed in my DNA

A blue crystal ball
flanked by ruby spheres
join the chime and mammal
linking both physical and Spiritual

Seeking to become more sincere
to who I am, it will provide focus
I require while surrendered to Love
when outside my comfort zone

The further I move from the west
the closer I feel to an unknown home
of barefeet and tintinnabulums
singing bowls and chanted mantras

A sanctuary of contemplation
an inner temple of no attachment
deep emptiness with nothing to lose
peaceful being I've never known

This is the Truth of Loss, my friends:
There honestly is none

. . .

13/30



For my J, with Love 💜


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