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Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo Competition

poet
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Guardian of Shadows
United Kingdom
21awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th Oct 2009
Forum Posts: 6399

15.

Bait and Switch


Caught and netted while out at sea
hauled overboard amidst sea spray under azure sky
amongst other grubs and seabed dregs
bundled, bagged,
from one jostled cramped net to another crowded bag
destination unknown
while the background sea calls home,
bumped and banged hither and thither in transport
whether by waves or wheels it could not be known
tipped unceremoniously into a new container
though actually old judging by the rust,
sloping metal walls sending inevitably downwards
there to stay,
trapped,
pressed against glass
for all the world to see and
all the world to see while imprisoned
advertised bait advertising death;
foul fate to be naught but fish food
just another lure in a long line
pursuing an ever larger catch
all in the name of contest and cash;
set to be a soul sold in slavery
where owners and buyers
uncaring and indifferent
to the small miracles of life before them,
the machine one of torture
with the sight of the sea
so close yet so very far away
resigned to die for an unknown cause,
a shadow forms and envelopes over
heralding the path to change
fingers fumble for coins:
clink, clank
turn the knob,
have your bucket ready
and out pours bait
who can but wriggle in confinement
as worms and maggots are wont to writhe
perhaps their last fleeting free movement
before hook line and sinker,
sun's brightness obscures the carrier
little can be gleaned
apart from their loping gait
the sound of the seashore
and seagull squawks far but not far enough away,
sudden thump down onto wood
not even a short walk to punctuate the end,
before abruptly airborne again
suddenly tipping
welcome water rushes in whilst bait streams out once again into the sea.
Somewhere a child looks on blankly proud
before an adult chastises their thoughtless waste
meanwhile worms emit thanks
and something great smiles favourably.

(Unique words: 219.)

poet
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
145awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 4428




15/30

The Shaman Tree

l: Is one who helped bring me into the world,
A midwife to guide my way, with
Divinations, to set me on the Path,
A soul of many times made new.

ll: I seek her, to commiserate on my
Next transformation, of rebirth.
For the true journey is not to repeat,
To return yet again, and still

lll: Be as unaware as I am, here, now
To pray, with only half my wits.
To sense and see, to be and know,
To reach nirvana in a spark!

lV: And, as I’m presented my humble self
At the top of the world, within.
I stand before my Sage, the Shaman Tree,
Blossoms whisper me floating by.

V: For the world’s at the Spring where e’er she is,
Her bounty of branches reach out.
The flowers will be eternal as I’m
The blooms they will be in the next.




unique words: 95

#NaPoWriMo2019

NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019


poet
Gahddess_Worship
Dangerous Mind
United States
29awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 449

CHANGING OF THE GUARD
Poem 15 of 30

They sit in the tunnel below,
mostly women awaiting their shift.
Animatedly greeting one another.
Chatter in Spanish the predominant sound.
¿Cómo fue tu fin de semana?
¿Cómo está tu familia?
¡Oye que Estoy cansada!
Acabo de salir de mi otro trabajo.

Promptly at 6:00 PM
They, en masse, stand,
Retrieve their tools of trade.
begin their journey to the offices above.
Two worlds pass each other on the escalator.
Ironically upper class in descent and lower ascending.
Pretending the other is not there.

Men and women clad in designer suits and dresses
The money-makers,
Going down to the garage, briefcases in hand.
Catatonic, mesmerized
Looking at their smartphones.
Some off to the gym to exercise.
Others to relieve their nannies at home.

While on the way up…
Madres, abuelas, hijas, hermanas
Carting vacuum cleaners,
Dusters, brooms…
All the accoutrement necessary
To make the day shift’s lives
Cleaner, healthier, more comfortable.
About to get their exercise the hard way.
Only to pick up after their own families
After their “Work” is done.

poet
wallyroo92
Fire of Insight
United States
63awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 752

15/30

Gen X


I was a latchkey kid,
But I also have to admit,
Growing up in the seventies and eighties was fun,
It was a different time,
And I don’t mean to whine,
But I kind of miss those innocent days under the sun.

I was part of the MTV generation,
Like Kool and the Gang’s Celebration,
It was a good time and yet I didn’t even know it back then,
I was a gamer with Atari and Nintendo,
(Millenials - this is an innuendo)
But I used to write down all of my poetry on paper and pen.

My first computer was a dinosaur,
A Commodore 64,
I learned how to write code before writing code was a thing,
I mastered the Rubik’s cube,
There wasn't a YouTube,
They were dog days of analog even when dial-up was a thing.

I was taught to be cordial,
But I was also resourceful,
I could use a number two pencil to rewind a cassette,
Not everything was peachy,
(I stored old poems in my Pee-Chee),
I learned valuable lessons that I’ll never forget.

It was a smaller less connected world,
Sometimes lost in a whirl,
There were no cell phones, no internet, no social media,
In those days that was the standard,
I had to handle to not knowing an answer,
Until I got home to a dictionary or my encyclopedia.

When the ninety’s came around,
Us Gen Xers hit the ground,
We changed with the times and took the plunge,
And as the walls came down
A new sound came to town,
For me it was when metal gave way to grunge.

Now as I grow older,
I look over my shoulder,
I think back and wonder what will come next,
Whatever it is we’ll be ok,
If I made it through those days,
I think I’m in pretty good company with Generation X

--------------
312 Words
183 Unique
#NaPoWriMo2019 

poet
wallyroo92
Fire of Insight
United States
63awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 752

15/30

Gen X


I was a latchkey kid,
But I also have to admit,
Growing up in the seventies and eighties was fun,
It was a different time,
And I don’t mean to whine,
But I kind of miss those innocent days under the sun.

I was part of the MTV generation,
Like Kool and the Gang’s Celebration,
It was a good time and yet I didn’t even know it back then,
I was a gamer with Atari and Nintendo,
(Millenials - this is an innuendo)
But I used to write down all of my poetry on paper and pen.

My first computer was a dinosaur,
A Commodore 64,
I learned how to write code before writing code was a thing,
I mastered the Rubik’s cube,
There wasn't a YouTube,
They were dog days of analog even when dial-up was a thing.

I was taught to be cordial,
But I was also resourceful,
I could use a number two pencil to rewind a cassette,
Not everything was peachy,
(I stored old poems in my Pee-Chee),
I learned valuable lessons that I’ll never forget.

It was a smaller less connected world,
Sometimes lost in a whirl,
There were no cell phones, no internet, no social media,
In those days that was the standard,
I had to handle to not knowing an answer,
Until I got home to a dictionary or my encyclopedia.

When the ninety’s came around,
Us Gen Xers hit the ground,
We changed with the times and took the plunge,
And as the walls came down
A new sound came to town,
For me it was when metal gave way to grunge.

Now as I grow older,
I look over my shoulder,
I think back and wonder what will come next,
Whatever it is we’ll be ok,
If I made it through those days,
I think I’m in pretty good company with Generation X.

--------------
312 Words
183 Unique
#NaPoWriMo2019 

poet
Earth_Child
shadoe
Fire of Insight
6awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 279

Беспредел ~ iii
15 ov 30


[iii]
spiders dance along pressure points, razor wire legg'd
inches from arteries bar'd hopefully
arch'd throat invitation
allure
a lure
now, bleed the kill dry

[ii]
skinn'd_
flay'd cortex, jackal fodder devour'd 'neath black crescent moons
{futile acts ov creation
dry nursed}
serpent suckling at empty breasts
 
[i]
slithering from sill to dark fitting, cold burns inch along nerves
sink marrow
                                         s h i v e r
quake as earth, break apart, crack open
& vomit sanity from the wound





poet
PoetsRevenge
Dangerous Mind
United States
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 30th June 2016
Forum Posts: 169

15/30  Zinnias

Cut and come again were quite a claim for
a humble garden flower; the idea, my Nana
had exclaimed, was that you cut them and
they come back.  

They were also known as zinnias and they
came in every neon color; pinks, reds, white,
yellows and oranges.  

They were a favorite for bouquets and
always made it into Nana’s garden each year.

They were a surprise, you never knew what
color you were going to get when the plants
were still young.            

                   82 words, 59 unique

poet
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Thought Provoker
United States
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 114

Freckles: Notes of an Online Journal

15/30

”Freckles”

Whenever I finish a poem,
I’m amazed, bewildered
so I vicariously,
hardly phased, want to
pull on my hair, even
yank it out when I
read what I’d just done,
that’s not fair.

But my father
always said
“Life is not fair”
and left it at that.

What is it that makes me;
what was it this time...
not enough rhyme?

The peasant blouse I wore,
that had to be it:
with hand-stitching
of birds and blossoms
across the
entice of a bosom’s
seasonal rite?

Another one of my
wardrobe throwbacks
out of joint,
what was the point?
I always got sunburned.

How my shoulders
peeked out,
helpless,
as I made a
faux pas kind of
statement.

Who’s your pal —
I’m just not a
peasant blouse
kind of gal.

All I have to show for
all those sunburns
are freckles,
because I had
red in my hair
as a child
so I could never tan,
only burn,
peel and freckle.

*Oh maybe just whistle.
You know how to whistle
don’t ya Steve?
You just
put your lips together
and blow.*





*Bacall to Bogie in “To Have and Have Not” (1944)


124 unique words

#NaPoWriMo2019
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019

poet
Misfitpoet89
Twisted Dreamer
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 79

15/30

Twisted Dreamer

I tip my hat to you, for I am the twisted dreamer you didn’t seek
But before you dismiss me, please give me a chance to speak
Lend me your ear as no other as I may spin you a tale of proportions epic
You may want to get comfortable, this will take more than a sec
If you so please let me set the stage of this wonderful tale
Of how we were so destined to meet and how so destined to fail
In what matters most and what become of our very ways
Of what once was, and is no longer, that of our glory days


4/15/2019

Unique words: 73

poet
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
65awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 2523

15/30

Proverbs  [ NaPoWriMo 2019 Collection ]

II. The Giving Tree

 vi. of Knowledge  


 Everything cooperatively—
 not good nor evil separately;
 but, all things combined
 into a singular entity: knowledge

 Light and darkness together
 create possibility forming
 contrast pertaining to understanding

 Fire along with ice, nakedness—  
 cold, heat provided experience:
 peace, unrest, gratitude, also regret

 Before there was only this nebulous
 existence in potential of choice;
 until my fruit coursed down your throat

 altering DNA, transforming ignorance;  
 pray tell, would you select unwind—
 undo every learned thing;

 or, choose more discernment
 through yet another bite;  

 Everyone on Earth has—
 you're never alone

 Neither am I
 . . .

words: 91
unique: 91

poet
Thetravelingfairy
Fire of Insight
United States
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 71

15/30

Alone

I wish I could crawl
Inside my reflection
And understand
What’s on the other side
I want to curl up
Beside my shadow
Watch it walk with me
So I don’t have to be alone
If I had you back in my life
Maybe I wouldn’t need these things
But I can’t abandon myself yet
Like you left me
Being dead is better
Than living alone
So I hope I die peacefully
Now that you’re gone

Unique Words: 61

poet
Amorous_tryst
Dangerous Mind
United States
15awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th June 2017
Forum Posts: 909

April's Fool

16/30

May It Fly Up His Nose


It first appeared as a Bird Of Paradise
with promises of good things to come

in short time it morphed into a Peacock
displaying arrogant plumage as it sought admiration

then the Buzzard hidden within was revealed, pouncing
and feeding on anything that threatened its perch

and it wasn't long before it became apparent to those
of discernment, it was unveiled to be a Looney Bird

and thus was transformed to a Clay Pigeon, dodging well placed shots
from the right and left, though the left was more akin to machine gun fire.

now this turkey is hoped to soon become
a lame duck since it has cooked its own goose

and finally it is wished by many it and all those alike
will go the way of the Dodo bird...….into extinction

134 words, 94 unique


*May The Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose
(Little Jimmy Dickens, 1965
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rdZLqOA6kA

poet
yelluw_always
Haley Quaquaversal
Fire of Insight
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 132

Lakeside 15/30

I have taken nails out of wooden
   frames and taken the pin out of leitmotif

his eyes sirened like pulsar stars all over
      his black surface, shriller than and- then


he is a wheel
      emotive in pieces upon which I

paint faces on heads, flat-
   -tened them buttercup dumb, everywhere

is spread out of hand, but these
   stumps mine moving all the same
      
      here is my touchstone
in the sawdust arboreal of the subject
      
      in the tenet of an egress
and an ess,                           as a closed hand
      hammers flowers into

the catchers of rain, of bee’s legs-
                 sexless nails
              timeless meadow
              of a million-and some
           change- tongue hunger
 I am pulling them out of the two by fours,
      the silence, planks,
   the hand shapes are
the same for both   

92  unique words of  129

poet
rosegold
Thought Provoker
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 58

15/30

Is this a poem?

is this a poem
or just words
on a page
in short
little
lines

is this art
or is it nothing more than
thoughts of a lost soul
pieced together
into a lump
of something
they call expression

does this confusion
turn to beauty
or does our perception
make it something it's not

do these words mean anything
or are they just a stream
of pointlessness
coming from
hy pointless
head




poet
Tallen
earth_empath
Dangerous Mind
14awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 748

Aggrandizing
(Sixteen of 30 -- Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2019)


I love You;

I can hear You
though our lips
never part.

Recover
Uncover
Discovered. . .

Once hidden
beneath
syllables and
punctuation marks
manifested
on paper,
every iota of
lust and
inspiration
I feel; I’ve felt.

Now our worlds
will know that
it’s always been
You.

No longer hiding
behind lines and
paragraphs
photographs
squeezed
between pages
bookmarked
for another
evening of
voyeurism.

No
now it’s all about
my voice
Proclamation
from dusty
shelves, blown
and torch lit
hallways
and all the
mountain tops
where the air
thins.

I love You.







________________
#NaPoWriMo2019
92 words
75  unique

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