Official DUP NaPo/GloProWrimo 2018

23/30

bruises

everyone always asked
what happened –
but most of the time, I
didn't know

a reckless child,
climbing trees and
running through the halls,
arms and legs spotted with dark
reminders of how often I
got hurt – they said I
should be more
careful

black and blue
my favorite colors
it looked bad...
I think maybe
people worried
and wondered
– but it's okay –
I bruise easy
it's normal, it's
just me.
really

so naturally
nobody noticed a thing
when I pounded them
into my flesh –
bruising myself for
my sins...
they were always there
just as they had always been

and of course
nobody even asked
if I was okay
when they showed up
in more places,
when he played rough,
when they got bigger and
I wouldn't even look at them
anymore...

I didn't earn a
second thought
because I was still the
tough girl
the kid who played outside
rough and tumble
wrestled with the boys, and
always bounced back –
I was the klutz who bruised
easy, mistakes marking me
up and I didn't care...
just acted strong
underneath my
soft, sensitive shell

it's true, I bruise easy
back then, and even still –
but seasons change,
different
reasons came
and I don't want to be
the girl
covered in bruises
anymore

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

24/30

hoodie

floofy, poofy
hoodie
all around me
just like
a hug
if you let me borrow it
I'll think of you every time I wear it
it feels like home

smooth, easy, soft
just like me
big, protective security
just what I need
soothing, warm, gentle
just like you

wrap me in comfort
hold me all snug
watch my fears sink away
into the deep fluff
of your hoodie
I'll be safe
contented in your care
it's enough for me

floofy, poofy
hoodie
all around me
just like
a hug
if you let me borrow it
I'll think of you every time I wear it
it feels like home

27.30


can't say Thank you

No, I can't,
not to the pair who inspired a pair and many more,
not to the pair keeping order in the underground,
making masses whose pencils were stubbed and thrown
across a room covered in distractions
pick them up
as armed weapons
and restore
their little piece
of soul with those pencils daily.
Yes, I owe much to the pair,
the pair who not only created importance amongst mundanity
but also participated,
and sat
in their own parts of this plush planet
to prepare works for sharing also.
There is much respect
in what has passed here
this April,
something I can't
or shall not find words for.
You have a part of me I thought was dead.
Thank you, you pair of poetry Gods.

CONTESTANTS MUST READ AND HEED THIS

In The Speakeasy Thread

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tell us where you live:

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as soon as possible!

====================

Please be sure to post your #30 Entry

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====================

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( 🍕 = posted and counted since last update )

And we're holding steady at 18 participants!

Greetings, Poets! Welcome to DAY 27!

Only a few days to go!

Forget about traditional countdowns and ball drops; see how these cities drop instead; next with Plymouth, WI.

Three! . . .

Naturally, a state where its residents are called "cheese heads" would have a cheese-related New Years Eve party. The cheesy celebration features live music, food, a bonfire, and the dropping of the massive chunk of cheese. Sadly, the massive chunk of cheese is not real, but you can enjoy some delicious fresh cheese from local vendors.

Fake cheese?! That's no gouda!

Here are our participants delivering plenty of cheesy poetry!

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

If your name isn't listed, it's because you haven't posted, and we haven't heard from you in at least three days!  

Poetry guaranteed delivered right to your doorsteps in under 30 days or it's FREE!

Well done, Poets! 🎊

Thank You for your participation!

ImperfectedStone said:
27.30


can't say Thank you

No, I can't,
not to the pair who inspired a pair and many more,
not to the pair keeping order in the underground,
making masses whose pencils were stubbed and thrown
across a room covered in distractions
pick them up
as armed weapons
and restore
their little piece
of soul with those pencils daily.
Yes, I owe much to the pair,
the pair who not only created importance amongst mundanity
but also participated,
and sat
in their own parts of this plush planet
to prepare works for sharing also.
There is much respect
in what has passed here
this April,
something I can't
or shall not find words for.
You have a part of me I thought was dead.
Thank you, you pair of poetry Gods.

OMG! Humbled; Thank you. ❤📝❤

21/30

Nadarang


Nadarang - exposed to the heat (of the fire)


Sa iyong ngiti lang naman
Ngunit nahulog ang loob
Di naman daw perpekto ang ngipin mo,
Pero tinamaan ako ng ngiti mo.

May kinang sa iyong mga mata
Sa pagbigkas ng wika
Ako'y nabighani
Nakakapanghina.
Ngunit di na
Aasahan pa na makita mo ako.

Nananatili ka sa puwesto mo sa aking likuran,
At sa buong isang oras, akin na namang mararamdamam,
Na ikaw ay nandiyan
At aking iniisip
Ano kaya ang iyong makikita kung sakaling sisilip.

At di pa rin makatingin sa kung nasaan ka
Dahil baka ito ang araw na ako'y mahuhuli mo na -
Sa aking damdaming di kayang aminin.

Mata'y magtatagpo,
Tayo'y sabay na titingin palayo.
At sa gilid ng mga mata'y
Magmamasid sa isa't-isa.
Ito ang di ko mapagtanto -
Mayroon bang katotohanan?
O delusyon ba ito?

Ikaw -
Ang mga numero at mga linya -
Ang matatag na pundasyon.
Ikaw ang konkreto.
At ako -
Ang mga abstraktong ideya at berso,
Ako ang mga salitang
Posibleng mauwi lamang sa abo.

Dahil ako ang papel na napupuno ng tula dahil sa'yo.
Patuloy na nais lumapit
Masunog man sa apoy mo.

Ilang tula pa ba ang isusulat ko tungkol sa iyo?


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


It's just with your smile
But I fell
They tell me your teeth isn't perfect,
But I've been hit hard by your smile.

There is a spark in your eyes
In the way you say words
I'm enraptured
It makes me weak.
But I won't
Hope anymore that you'll see me.

You stay in your place behind me,
And for the whole hour, I would again feel,
That you are there
And I'm thinking,
What would you see if ever you glimpsed?

And I still can't look
Because this might be the day that you finally catch me -
With my feelings that I can't go admitting.

Eyes will meet,
At the same time,
We will watch each other.
This is what I cannot understand -
Is there something real?
Or is this a delusion?

You -
Are the numbers and the lines
The strong foundation.
You are concrete.
And I -
Am the abstract ideas and verses,
I am the words
That may only turn to ash.

Because I am the paper that is filled with poems because of you.
Still wanting to move closer
Though I might get burned by your fire.

How many more poems will I write about you?


22/30

Sana Paalam (Hopefully Goodbye)


Sa gabi, nakatulala sa kawalan,
Papasok kang muli sa aking isipan.
Hindi na rin ako nagtatanong.
Dahil hindi na rin ako naniniwala sa pag-asa.

Lalampasan ang mga kalsadang
Parang isang panaginip sa liwanag ng mga ilaw,
Sa pintura ng kalangitan mula sa araw na nagpapaalam,
Sa mga dagitab sa aking puso dahil sa pagtunog ng "ikaw" sa aking isipan.
"Ikaw" sa likod ng aking mga mata.

Di naman nakausap ni isang salita.
Lalo na ngayon-
Mas malabo na.
Ito ang langit kong kinuhanan ng litrato ng mga nanginginig na kamay.
Ito ang mga matang maluha-luha nang makitang kasama mo siya.
Hawak-kamay.

Bakit nga ba masakit, tanga?

Di na rin nalaman ang iyong kuwento.
Isang kantang paulit-ulit lamang ang meron ako -
Ito'y matatapos at
May bagong uuso.
Malilimutan mong nakilala mo ako.
At para sa ngayon, ako'y kakapit
Sa ideya ng pagtatapos ng lahat ng ito.
Dito lang muna ako sa malapit sa'yo -
Wala naman akong pagpipilian.

Kaya ko kayang iwasan ang liwanag mo?
Pagsasabihan ko ang tanga kong puso.
Patitibayin ang isip na ito, papatayin ang mga pantasiya.
At unti-unti pa'y -
Tuluyan ding makalalayo.

Alam mo kaya itong mundong binulabog mo?


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

At night, staring into nothingness,
You enter my mind again.
I don't question anymore.
Because I don't believe in hope anymore, as well.

I'll pass by the roads
Dreamlike in the brightness of the lights,
In the paints of the sky from the sun saying goodbye,
In the sparks in my heart because of the sounding of "you" in my mind.
"You" behind my eyes.

Didn't even speak even just one word.
Especially now -
Even more unlikely.
This is my sky photographed by shaking hands.
This is the eyes teary when they saw you with her.
Holding hands.

Why - again - does it hurt, stupid?

Didn't also know your story.
A song on repeat is all I have -
It will end and
A new one will be a hit.
You'll forget you met me.
And for now, I'll hold on
To the idea of all of this ending.
I'll stay here for now, close to you.
It's not like I have a choice.

Can I avoid your light?
I'll talk to my stupid heart.
I'll strengthen this mind, kill the fantasies.
And little by little -
I'll finally get away.

I wonder if you know this world you've suddenly disturbed?


23/30

We Wonder


We wonder, first kisses.
We wonder, first misses.
The walks are long in humid weather,
And the questions heavy with the curious.
We wonder the obvious.

How does a hand holding yours would feel -
If the world would stand still -
With a kiss,
With a breath,
An inappropriate
Touch?

The dancing under lavender skies, we wonder.
To be pulled where the lights are to explore a
Deeper darkness
That takes the breath and gives it back.

Hurt and loneliness, we wonder.
If the moves would be effective,
If the whispers as addictive -
If we only had our way,
And maybe love is in the equation,
Can anyone fuck the pain away?
We wonder.



Two poems were written in Filipino then translated because...the muse said so. Thank you so much for letting me post three poems. ❤

Pele’s Fire
(sonnet)
formule poésie érotique 26/30  


Arose in mist from Kā’ne’s moving thought,
A heart of flame from mana-ocean flew,
Kaua’i, Oahu and Maui brought.
Her staff, from fire rings the Islands grew.

Pele, makai from Haleakala,
Observed “a swimmer” rising from the sea.
Though husband of her sister, Namaka,
Aukele came with Pele willingly.

So strong their joining even seas retreat,
Their flows’ unite, another island brings.
But in Namaka’s rage, Pele’s defeat,
Her bones at rest in Hawai’i’s fire ring.

To seek Pele, hike Kilauea’s heights,
Where love for Aukele still heats her night.

(see post on my page for further explanation)

formule poésie érotique 27/30 - edit in 24 hours.

Estate Sale Assholes

(NaPo #27, April 27, 2018)


Cars line street sides, yet
neighbors still balk
and whine—
the cars are near the end
of their driveways.

You can still get out,
can’t you?

It’s a two-day event—let
the estate sale company
do their job and

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

It’s a dead-end
side street, and
there is no traffic.

Perhaps
neighbors should get jobs
so they aren’t home to see
a few cars at curbside….

Perhaps
neighbors could charge
five dollars per car, to
use their driveways, thus
earning a bit of their own,
while not working, home
all day, bitching….

(They’d probably smoke it, anyway…)

Perhaps
someone could tell
the asshole in the basement
that he’s an asshole, for
haranguing me about not
saying “Excuse me”
before slipping behind him
in the well apportioned, at
least three feet, of
personal space, which
didn’t actually require an
“Excuse me” ….

EXCUSE ME, YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!

(and you’re also, the hair around it.)

I believe that I am
quite done shopping, now.

I must be in Assholeville.

The estate salers
are friends of mine, and
I shall pray for their souls
and patience
for this event.

27.

A Day


Rain comes down
pattering against glass panes
a scattering of showers
Cars rush past outside
susurration sounds
skimming water with wheels
Grey clouds hang above
temporary backdrop
muted and reserved
just there
no more intent than that;
makeshift weather for today
nothing special
time for reflection
Rejuvenation in the austerity
Minimalism expressed
in depth analysis not necessary
merely enjoy the space
Leaves on trees lazily swing
bounced by the droplets
or swayed by the minor wind
barely registering cold
felt intermittently
not nature's wrath:
elemental compulsion
regardless of the brick houses
or the monkey's plans
Light is hazy
unoppressive visibility
no fight or flee to see
another day of English weather;
that I would not trade
for any other
even in its' leftover feel
as though creation went
"that'll do"
and took a day off
to sit in the damp grass
watching the world rush by
as it does nothing for today
and spends time wisely
in just being still and slow
for one day
appreciating that way
because some moments are just there, nothing more.

(Unique words: 132.)

26/30


"Potential lust gaze and/or the idea of lovers part as sorrow singing from the branches i broke on the fall down"


Tongue twister limbo libido
whipped around
low hanging road signs.
graphic in nature,

but not lewd as we shall get to that in due time.
telephone pole displays
yellow metal ideas
with pull tabs for touchy feelings

cracked robin eggs,
crumpled blue & black spots
broken open
on the slited sidewalks membrane

walking home.
nightfall besmirched
by rain drops uniform frisk down,
patting down,

packing the dark rich soil
in serene gardens hanging,
swaying in the crisp cutting wind.
smells of brown earthen root,

rotting,
green feathered ferns branched stems,
tall purple snake headed irises,
hollow,

leaning in for a wicker basket kiss.
flattened
pizza box trash
thrown in the road.

free little libraries
beamed from post holes.
highway overpass ghosts still scream
five evenings a week.

these structures strike me down
as religion does an obnoxious child,
running up and down the isles,
weaving in and out of the wooden pews;

two-story Gothic Revival,
Tudor,
Queen Anne,
Colonial Revival,

Mediterranean,
Picturesque Vernacular,
Victorian,
and Eastlake.

curator of happenings
hanging out in the Neighborhood.
slanted potholes,
alley cats,

perched on growing ivy porches.
do i miss these routines?
stretching seconds in every sky drop of you?
you better believe

i'd cut the sun,
break off my teeth
as i try to test everything we thought was gold.
samurai scorpion tattoos

accumulating on the body of thought,
painted on air buoyant hulls,
& calendar girl rivets.
i'll count the months for you

splish splash in the stars.
you're a fifth of Jägermeister
thick,
vivid as my sixteen year old self could remember;

except i'd hate to think about you as the past.
you were always a phantom taste in my palate,
poison idea of significance,
piercing puncture of delicate muscles.

impale me with your lovely suggestive themes,
if we manage to survive.
paint her black and red chainsaw pull start,
powdered white picked from the coffin,

ribbon and lace from a tight embrace,
tether her erotic wings of vicious flight,
stitch to her skins seduction.
devil girl thrashing the boundaries

between Hell.
a woman worth deicide.

27/30

On Rainbow Roads

I grasped at shadows to find love
perhaps something of lighter shade
a friendship I can hold to heart
in the midst of storm's eye
the near misses have come and gone
hopeful glances of salvation
of something precious beyond isolation
the mundane life that I withstand.

My life has changed to far extremes
when compared to normative
vanilla is not what I've become
reflected in sherbert's rainbow swirls
spectrum swum become the pools
where loneliness lurked close at hand
only dispelled when I found
the like souls that shared the life.

Sometimes the wink is enough
acknowledging the same by fraction's space
the old shadows are made whole
with love being so much more
I'm not alone even though
my delusions say otherwise
friendships create solid ground
for bridges on rainbow roads.

26/30
Hosting Darkness

Trapped
in a cyclone
spiralling thoughts
repeat
reckless isolation
seeking safety
in retreat

hosting darkness
bewitched
yet again
clutching its wrath
settling in
readying self
descending immediately
as I begin

drowning
once more
murky waters
plunging
ever deep
weighted
in secrets
not meant to keep

alone
sinking
adorning
shame and fear
swallowing
choking
awareness
imminent death
is near

25/30

honesty lessons

tell the truth
don't you lie
Mommy knows
when she looks
in your eyes

say what you mean
and mean what you say
we have trust
in this house
don't throw that away

we raised you up well
so don't you stray
we can see
right through you
clear as day

tell the truth
look in my eyes
it's up to you
if you can live
with your lies

you decide
if you want to be
weighed down
by your words
or free

trustworthy

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

26/30

color my soul

color me
open my pages
black and white

fill me in
my empty lines
give me life

add your touch
to my blank spaces
make me yours

color me in
with a little bit
of you

color me
pink
like your lips
cover my
surface
with your kisses

color me
blue
like the night
and color
you
by my side

color me
gold
like the ecstasy
I feel
as you
color me

color me
all
shades of purple
because
you know
it's my favorite

color me
proudly
make me art
leave your
mark
on my heart

color me
however
you like
paint
my colors
bright

choose
your palette
with care
mix in some
love
here and there

don't stop
coloring
until I'm complete
don't leave any
part of me
dull

color my
gray
colorless
soul