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Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo Competition

Lord Viddax
Guardian of Shadows
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2009
Forum Posts: 6509


Les is More

Man, last night was such a blast
I could have stayed at that concert
for all time
that sweet sound still echoes
even over the Tequila hangover
here in Saigon;
that guy knew how to make a guitar sing
making it true that Les is more
such melodies that will stand the test of time
a rock of the ages
with hands as fast as lightning,
now to trek home
one slide at a time.

(Unique words: 59.)


Fore All

Ominous clouds herald the call of war
and so the belligerent battleships make ready
while fathers bid farewell to wives who can merely watch
with children too young to fully understand
what must be done to defend the motherland,
the fleet heading west to meet their match
there to roar with guns as the sea sprays wild
disturbed by the scattering shots of battle
while calibers boom and fire blossoms violently
testing the steel of the ships
and the mettle within men's hearts
as they do their duty
a necessity against such evil,
the opposing lines meet amongst the waves
exchanging shots from afar and up close
giving no quarter or mercy
each seeking to sink the other
to send as many to a watery grave
or cremate in foul fire so that they can no longer fight
alarms ring out deafened by the conflict
as broken metal groans
wills defiant to the very last,
the unfortunate disappear beneath smoke and tides
never to be seen again, only remembered,
victory is found in the remnants
the aggressor bloodied and beaten back
though the cost is high
families reunited under clear pleasant skies
yet some are not;
their fate is to be unfulfilled
where children grow up without a father
only a memory and a pride in their sacrifice.

(Unique words: 153.)

(Unique word total: 200.)

Fire of Insight
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Joined 6th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 192


A Lonely Night
(String of Haiku/Senryu)

Waves of loneliness
Wash over me as I lay
In my bed tonight

This heart feels heavy
From a strange achy feeling
I don't understand

Pain grips it, squeezing
At its tenderness piercing
My raw emotion

Silent tears roll down
My face from my misty eyes
On this lonely night

A haunting feeling
Bubbles from this foolish heart
Stirring from its cage

I wonder what stirs
The well of sadness in me
It comes unbidden

An unwelcome guest
That passes by my heart's door
To visit my night


Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 572

Poem 16 of 30

Though be Her temporal édifice
reduced to smoldering ash.
Our Lady’s spirit stands uninjured
Perfectly erect
She who watched her Son’s skin bruised
And torn by brutal lash.
Also knew on that third day that He would resurrect.

Witnessing her Son in anguish
Bloodied by the crown of thorns.
Dying nailed on cruel cross,
side pierced by thrusted lance.
Then by holy miracle
She met her blessed Son reborn
When compared the task seems small,
rebuild Her house in France.

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1072



It didn’t matter how much chaos there was on stage,
How loud Roger screamed or how much Pete danced,
It didn’t matter how fast and hard the Loon would play,
The Ox was always calm and cool in his stance.

John was so good he made it look effortless and easy,
All the basslines had a groove that I still can’t believe,
It was like he tapped into another part of the universe,
When his fingers galloped on the strings with a mighty heave.

John’s playing almost seems as otherworldly,
His musical range was magnificent and ample,
He and the Loon played with this maximum power,
Just listen to the Real Me as one small example.

John “The Ox” Entwistle was perfect for The Who,
He never danced on stage but he moved your soul,
Thunderfingers was just plain fucking cool!
He is the best bass guitar player in all of rock ‘n roll.

154 Words
107 Unique

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 30th June 2016
Forum Posts: 331

16/30   Aloe Plants

Aloe plants were not showy, and they never

They just looked cute on the window
sill in little pots with their light green, speckled,
spiky leaves that resembled little sprigs of grass.

They were a perennial houseplant that seemed
to do well in all seasons.  

And the best thing, Nana had said, was that
they could be used to treat a burn.  

The gel inside the leaves had healing properties;
just break a piece off.

That’s quite a repore for such a little plant,  
I thought, and she was right, it worked.

                93 words, 70 unique

Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 332


Scares Me More Than Dying

It’s amazing.
This pretend life
we live and love
and convince.

I wonder when I will
grow tired
of this careful
Give in to the need to
shine equally.

Because when I
say pretend,
what I really mean
is that I’m not the
same person with
as I am with
and her
and them.

This compartmentalizing
is killing me.

I can’t find trust
in your hands.
No matter how fervently
I want it.

And I want it.

I want you to have all of me.
All the time.
Every single dot and iota.

But the thought of freedom
scares me more than

Two posts today because I’m making up for my day off yesterday.

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 2567


Lady Of Light

More than poetry of any planet alone

I wish to gift you with a multitude -
granite angels singing, your very own
semi-nude, mini-skirted  
with many a hued misty
dewdropped off-her-rings;

heralded with gossipings by  
paled garnet goddess moons
blushed from your warm hand from afar

during their sincerely concerted swoons  
meant to compliment the brightest star
above that you are in my universe

If only I was capaple of  
writing such  

for Ahavati with Love 💜💑💋

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 5921


Proverbs  [ NaPoWriMo 2019 Collection ]

II The Giving Tree

vii of Life

 Ancient Baobab: puffed up
 miraculous survivor—
 as salamanders  
 reveling in fire

 Its dry trunk houses
 water of Life, sustains existence
 with Healing Fruit—
 deprivation's portent

 Green roots amid blue soil;
 basis for living organisms
 flourishing health

 Every tree becomes weighted
 during season-unless seasonless;
 a constant provision:

 Black Madonna
 sheltering eternal innocence
 from enlightenment—

 where experience would lose
 itself among the known—  
 dissipating desire to learn

 Point is, doors open before us;
 prayers become miracles—  
 if we're careful what we ask

 Sometimes despite our self
  . . .

words - 85
unique - 85

Rowan E.
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 5th Aug 2015
Forum Posts: 176


getting home

a big mad black boot
just about to break,
the sky was.
and we pulled up
from the Quarter -
car scooted to a still
in the driveway.
Just then
woke the moon
and the moon moved a toe

opened the boot.
over us
a cloudy day's
hours of trudging around
loosing its sole
and drinking, drinking
now a runny Saturday
sloshing out
pounding the tin awning,
whipping the graves
and mixing the streetlight
with their slimy gray.

dashed up your steps,
my cheek to your shoulder,
just the rain there
streaking and hanging
in my tuft of hair.
You kiss it
like you're thirsty.

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 114



You may think I spend too much time behind the lens
Not truly enjoying each moment, each breath as it happens
I am not here to reply to or deny what you think
Knowing that the choice is my own to record each memory
Digitally, to my own records be kept, though shared with the world
Whether they choose to take interest in it or leave it be
The choice is not mine, just as for my poetry
It is up to the dearest readers and the masses
To take an interest in what I say
And if they do not, then they should still have a nice day
I do not want for what I see and for what I say to be shoved
Down the fillets of the masses if they should not want it
Or even if they do, to be delivered kindly and gently
Tenderly, well-kept and packaged neatly for them
But I choose to document for the history I see so that others
May see through my eyes as I once did and do
For you never know when some irretrievable treasure will be gone
You never know how much you’ll miss until photographs are all you have left
When there’s rubbles on the ground the photo evidence will still be there
Displaying proudly what once stood
What may still partially stand
Something that cannot be replaced but can and may be repaired
Though captured in its glory in the moment of its photo

Unique words: 133

Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 58



awaken my brain
shake me up
make me itch for movement
I can do anything
with you running my mind

you melt away my shell
bring out the loud parts of me
that nobody ever sees
you unclothe me
and let me be myself

you show me the motivation
I can never find on my own
give me progress
and when I'm stuck
I'll come back for more

I don't need sleep-
how can I rest with you
pounding on my heart?
I don't need food for fuel-
you're good enough

until I crash hard
hungry and sad
and forget why I
got out of bed
in the first place

Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 122


Summer Moon

I remember you
And that lambent summer moon
Illuminating your pickup truck
For the world to see
I heard the wind blustering
Through the sage and oak trees
And your steady breath
Was all I was feeling
As we held each other
Interwoven, tangled
Like my hair through dirty palms
You didn’t brush it
You left me wild
My effervescence showing
In the silence
Those days are long gone
My memories eroding
Now all i recollect
Is that lambent summer moon
Slowly ascending on the horizon

Unique Words: 65

Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 1st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 177


Drowning: Notes of an Online Journal


I’m sensing a pitch of motion
While out in the hall pulling watch,
I sit surrounded by ocean
As the deck crawls in drowning moths.

There’s a storm front over the bed;
Our mothers cower beneath it.
A migraine is stalled in my head,
Focused on numbing bereavement.

The course of events is unknown,
An unseen barrage colder still.
The others are gathered like clones
A whole other place for the kill.

I know that the doctor is here,
He’s talking downstairs on the phone.
There’s no need for shedding a tear,
I see you’ve not come here alone.

78 unique words

NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019

poet Anonymous

Title: Teammate
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight


There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was the moon.

I stroke the rosemary while sipping fresh coffee. The thorn in my side awoken - screaming from an upstairs window
slicing through the peace.
I pour hot liquid onto compost,
chase my tail to the door,
kick muddy boots,
bolt up the stairs.

There is he, her already on his knee,
singing Goatherd
for the umpteenth time.
This is where I hit a decision
to hover in the doorway, in this moment with him, to watch, to preserve in my memory,
to possibly ruin it when she sees my face and wants milk
or turn back,
return to my internal monologue of calm,
potter and re-sink my soul in the quietness of it
yet perhaps make him feel like I heard
but didn't come to help.

I sit on the stairs, wait until they've finished and she groans.
I take
the next shift.
Friend, love is largely about sacrifice, compassion when compassion is hard,
forgiveness when you think you haven't the ability,
setting selfishness aside, feeling their feelings
or trying to
and in truth my support is not for her comfort -
it is,
and has always been, for his.

Tyrant of Words
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Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 722

NaPoWriMo 2019  -  April 17th  -  No:17 of 30


A twinned memory invited me in
but there was more to it than that -
sneaky signs hinted at sin
   soon dismissed as fake news
   and thrown in the bin of convention
   we sighed for a soft tonic of djinn

mistress of cellular strokes
raked away covering leaves
figuring new knowledge
   laid flesh to considered intention
   faced a place of origin
   tongued a slithering snake
broke an imaginary law
as pawing fingers poked for more,
wrestling consciousness

   cloud-moon connivance blanketed our moves
   offering welcome cover of darkness
   ’til a shaft of light brought dawn -
grabbed an apple for breakfast
when a nosey and jealous surveillance god
said “On Yer Bike …”
   and booting our backsides
   slammed the gate shut
   appointing two tattooed bouncers …

… so we legged it hand-in-hand
running free for a famed future
sketching immature thoughts
   unaware of new life
   already nestling in her peaceful womb …
   and pulsing … pulsing.

(155 words. 123 unique words)

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