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Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo Competition

Haley Quaquaversal
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 24th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 132

Lakeside 14/30

All the bowl-shaped
      things,        my hands,        can make
but can’t hold
         this rain,
   cave         flower       crescent
      smoked pipe        skull
   gourd       stomach       bucket
       body  cloud    clam   crater
the form changes
      without context, like the way a stranger
   comes in the room and begins
asking for directions to who knows what is this
           content is
            as the insides
      are filled
                of words,       in a rush
even as I swish them around
      they stay level,  

as      water    drips
            seamed fingers,
inertia,  to spin them
                  to spin you around
      and spin, pressing all those things
to bow, heavy and thin,   taut, collapsible precipice
                           escape is the next
thing on our minds, flesh opens, sieves, undams
       frames a lake holding water

93 unique words of  119

P M Banks
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1077

Title: Spring-Heal
Fifteen of Thirty
Unique Words: Eighty-eight


I was quite feral in my youth
running wide landscapes of laid grain,
blissing, unwanted, in the wilds alone
laying lost in fresh Spring rain.

The wind would tear right through my youth
if choisya, arenaria and stachys hadn't been planted
and enjoying each day had not been wanted,
if roots hadn't dyed my raging spirit green.

Plants were unforgiving in my youth -
stroking my hair and finding truth
that some peace can be found despite circumstance,
with a plot, willing hands and the gift of time.

I pity and preserve parts of my youth
when dancing barefoot in your Spring 'shine
as though I accept I was feral and wild,
it is an emptiness no longer mine.

Dangerous Mind
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Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 748

Compost & Castings
(Fifteen of 30 -- Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2019)

In this zany and often quirky underground universe
Spillers of ink continue to compost syllables deep
below the Forest Trees.

One might think a great pile up and stoppage
would occur as the writers are many and the One
is one.
Dug, however, is an extraordinary worm.
His prolific castings created from composted spills
are known far and wide throughout the realm of
the Deep underground and Gaia’s Forests above.

In fact, without Dug,
there might not be an underground
might not have the Trees who rely on Dug’s
castings for sustenance.
It’s easy to see how Poets and Writers,
of all manner of ink. . .themes spill and feed
off one another.
With Dug diligently working to maintain
this symbiotic eco-system.

Join us at the next picnic
no one leaves hungry.

______________________ _  
132 words  
99  unique
Prompt Number 14 in the
2019 NaPo Prompt Comp

John Brady
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 21st Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 136


Heart attack in an old town

I don’t mean to stare
but the buildings are on fire

the buildings are on fire
and churches are empty
and I’m not sure which doors
open when I close my eyes

I could sure
use a friendly face
beyond shapeless clerks
who fade in and out
becoming nothing
in April’s blur.

Nobody has seen the flames
from the torsos of fences
littering these sidewalks
in their splintered nightmares

nobody has heard the pour
of gas, the match head
crying out for mercy
in fear of burning alive.

I want to believe that roads
will not bury me where I lay;
the sky is smoking
and all the Gods are dead.

Nathaniel Peter
Thought Provoker
United States
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Forum Posts: 414


Death Support

there's something about the way you tell the truth that sounds like a lie
when all the theoretical rights are spoken through a scope of heretical lights
are we reaching for love or just to get the rhetoric right?

motive is more than just splitting hairs
everyone has correction to give but nobody cares
I can't breathe when no choice made is right in your eyes
every truth spoken from the mouth of the wrong heart are just good lies

getting hung up on the details bring into question authenticity
conflicted by promotions of love or just the appearances of moral dignity
the more I live the more I realize, pride and honor are contradictory
let's make this about you and pretend it's for me

power trip exaltation and counterfeit humility
you cut and call it leadership when you curse the symptom and kill the heartsick
you've got so many answers to give you're blind to your own conflict

it's never you and it's always me
relive excuses made for compromise on the premise of another sob story
all I'm looking for is a better way to communicate integrity
laws inscribed on tablets of flesh hearts
there's nothing more polluted than our own hypocrisy

and all we are is on the defense
call me in, I'm calling you out
with lumber eyes versus spec spectacles
you pick a fight and stand for a cause you don't have to prove
and all we emphasize is the witness to coerce conviction

it's not your place to police relationship
and I wont live after the pretense of an image that behaves
without first establishing a foundation of identity
I dont want to be something I am not, but who am I?
tell me what's genuine when I have a war inside
love is not without a threshold for tolerance
but I'm dying in a continual question
and gradually learning how to live the answer

tell me what's right when God is a first love that challenges all others
where culture makes idols of friends and family
as we endorse damnable ways and participate
when compassion was never meant as a means to condone or placate
like death support

are we failing the children?
when no ones perfect becomes an excuse to quit trying
as we fade with the vapor and blindly live without considering consequence
and the ramifications of our choices

delpreciated minds of "harmless" vulgarities and lip service worshippers
mental ascension and grace as a false means to live in sin

I'm one to talk, God knows, we're all in this together
but why do we settle for less when Christ died to give us something better?
you want to make a difference, this is where it starts
the change we seek begins in our own hearts...

Dangerous Mind
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Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 286

NaPoWriMo 2019  -  April 15th  -  No:15 of 30


These words are not here to serve me
having an emerging agenda of their own
accumulating symbolic content
and pushing possible promontories
ever closer to a cliff-edge
where they will either fly, or die.

I prefer the former
but do not want to be accused
of interference else the muse
will slap me on the wrist quoting Plath
reminding me inexorably
“soft fists insist”.

(64 words. 55 unique words. The last line is quoted from Sylvia Plath’s poem, “Mushrooms”)

The Cosmic Dragon
Dangerous Mind
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Joined 10th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 623

Exchanging Self With Others

If what we seek lays not upon our part,
But in the cherished acts we give to others,
Let guiding light of altruism's heart,
Forget ourselves, immerse in all our mothers.

This mountain of our self, we stand aloft,
Is but a concept brought about by mind,
And in the valley ice peaks become soft,
A melting of our love for all mankind.

The fear of loss, or being left without,
Prevents the magic coming from release,
The cherishing of this self we must renounce,
And therein find in "other" our heart's peace.

This goes against the grain of all we're told,
And few have braved relinquishing self love,
This holy transmutation into gold,
Cast out the "I", hold "other" high above!

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 22nd Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 114


Never Too Late

Night drifts along with dreams
and what it means
warm arms to hold
when thoughts run cold
and words just scratch and burn

there's a sparkle over there
sifting thru and finding near
a love real simple, and so clear
begging to comfort in the fright
and the fight
til the dawn of morning's light

I believe in a task at hand
for not the feint of heart
or the selfish
for unlike lust
you can always trust

silence can be deafening
tell them while you still can

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 2523

OH NOS!  The Encyclopedicus lunged with a gargantuan gaping gulp, swallowing the NaPoWriMo whole!

Our ship settled in the first of the leviathon's many stomachs that filtered out water and air, so there was at least a little time to devise an escape.  Question was, how did one exit a beast the size of many whales that binged on ideas for new tales? The crew only had so many ideas before the cargo hold ran dry. What then?!

We tickle the monster's tummy with the feather from a pirate's hat, suggested Jade-Pandora.

Unfortunately, an Encyclopedicus lacked funny bones.

We run back and forth until we become so exhausted that we are pooped out! chimed Cloventongue89.

While this was rather brilliant, uhh ... no. There simply was not enough soap in the world to clean up after a journey through the creature's bowels. The prospect of muddling through all that raw, unrefined poetry --

We keep feeding it new poem ideas ... ?  Summerrain75 volunteered.


It was our only hope to bide us more time.    

Team Members, thank you for your reports - they have all been addressed.

* If you have already submitted your Fifteenth offering, it will be reflected on tomorrow's update.

Remember, if we already haven't, we are in the process of transforming one of your shorter entries into designs for proud flag flying across our website and social networking platforms.  If you haven't heard from us we're getting to you asap! You can view the designs that have been uploaded here:


Also on DUP's facebook. instagram, twitter, and Pinterest; so be on the lookout for your flag flying the mast!  


You can also enjoy these poems in our Word of a Canvas group:    


Happy Poeting, Team Napo'19!


✔✔ = 2 Weeks

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 20th Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 399

15 of 30

eyes averted from the void

it occurred to me
just this morning
I am guilty
the sin of not following my own advice
to face it head on
don't turn & run
and yet I blew through the door
a veritable cyclone
making a hasty escape
I couldn't take it
not avoiding in a forever kinda way
just not that exact day
it's an empty place
where someone dear used to be
a blank wall & empty space
leaving a hollow echoey sorta feeling
it haunts me
and I laugh & smile…
…in the crowd
then close the door & completely break down
so here I stand
beginning of an end
unable to force myself to walk that hall again
I'm not ready for the change
not today
it will still be there...waiting
or the next day
yeah, I know
I'm a hypocrite
but goodbyes eat me up
from the inside
and I'm not ready
not for that particular death

geoff cat
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 27th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 984


Roman Wilderness of Pain – Cycle Seven: Day Fifteen

I find I’m looking out again,
The car at rest on broken ground.
My body’s there, a mass undone,  
It’s drunk, baptized in blood.  
The tree remains though scarred and still.  
Car, hissing steam, October night  
Has pinned me in and trapped my life,  
Yet here I stand looking.  
Beyond the tree a life extends,  
A short run to an open cliff,  
The next abyss, the next begin,  
Or simple blackness find?  
And to it’s left I see Her there,  
The C(K)ali girl that I could chase,  
With music, song…but still, the cliff,  
Though further off, but still…  

And to the right in vailed mist,  
I cannot see the future’s hold,  
I hear Her voice in words I craved  
Before I broke my soul.  
Her face appears but just once more,  
Adrift in final words announce,  
And then just mist of the unseen,  
The car, the tree, the lack.  
On my periphery, I hear  
The coming sirens’ subtle song,  
My body seems to stir alive,  
It’s time for my return.  
I will not send my gifts tonight,  
I’ll leave our ghosts to find their paths,  
I will not beg for other life,  
I will abide, I will…  

Unique Words: 130



Fire of Insight
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Joined 6th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 98


The Heart
(String of Haiku/Senryu)

The heart is complex
It's hard to understand it
The way it beats, feels

It's a deep ocean
That hides so many feelings
Unseen by the eyes

Like a rolling tide
It bubbles with emotions
That surge inside it

It is a fountain
Where love keeps overflowing
Even when it's hurt

A well of sadness
Of happiness, joy and pain
That is never empty

Throughout a lifetime
The heart goes through a season
To love and let go


Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 31st Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 492


Dear brother,

When you equivocated,
Ending with “she doesn’t hit her,”
As if that were a victory,
I did not know what to say.
Your admission that
She “is mean” to her is shocking
In light of the credibility
And power you have extended.
What has she done for your daughter
To build trust?
What distinguishes her
From a stranger
In Maya’s eyes?

Love, Kumar


Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 12th June 2017
Forum Posts: 909

April's Fool


Fighting The Good Fight?

I awoke this morning, determined to ready myself for battle
sharpen various weapons which will be needed to insure victory
feed and prepare the steeds that will carry me to war, then
steadfastly remain under my command to the best of their aging ability

knowing this will be a long drawn out endeavor
with front lines flowing fluently across the combat zone
objectives were planned in advance, when, where, and
from what position my attack would be launched

I could observe the enemy from my vantage point
their strength growing as their numbers increased
just as I was set to instigate an initial charge
my advance was abruptly halted and I was
sent scurrying for sanctuary as the rain
began its deluge upon the greening lawn

126 words, 95 unique

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 1217


a h a V a t i

Written with precision
her poetry is far from prison -
no yearning masses camped in homes
suffering horribly executed poems
forced to endure the badly grammered
hammered with needless words buffering
while under house arrest; slammered
Incarcerated in unpoetic hells
Jailed birds in private cells
praying to be liberated
on an aptly dated day
The 5th of November!
Remember her name

for Ahavat with Love 💜💑💋

somewhat inspired by the film V For Vendetta

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