Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo Competition

NaPoWriMo 2019  -  April 23rd  -  No:23rd of 30


POET’S WORKSHOP

A poetry idea sits waiting in my workshop.
Marking some initial lines with a carpenter’s pencil
I chain-saw the first cuts of a rough shape,
pillar-drill for deeper meaning
and tap some stanzas into position
always with an eye on planing the soundscape.
Aided by Axminster, Metabo, Ryobi, Festool
and my father’s old hand-tools
there are phrases to be filed
words to be shaped with sharp chisels
and grammar to be screwed in, one quarter-turn at a time.

If the whole thing somehow doesn’t look right
I get out the angle-grinder.
If that fails, only one thing for it:
the big Bosch demolition-hammer … and start again.
If it’s looking good, it goes in Grandfather’s 100 year old ‘weighs-a-ton’ vice
to squeeze out surplus words
before rounding the edges with a spokeshave
smoothing with one of several sanders
and polishing-oiling-polishing-oiling-polishing
until I’m sick of it. Then I know it’s ready.

“Josh, you’ve got more equipment than a bloody DIY store …”
I look at him askance and reply “I’m a poet for chrissakes,
I need all the power-tools I can lay my hands on”.


(184 words. 134 unique words)

23/30

Pressed Upon My Window


Raindrops pressed upon my window
but it was locked
my eyes, scorched along with the underbrush
couldn't see

but you peered in anyways
digging deep, you found a shaft
a breech, I wasn't counting on
and you crawled across my threshold

storms weakened
and my knees grew steady for a day
morning roused and bit my tongue
but words weren't there to praise
and tongues would just get in the way

it was a touch that was needed
tenderness of heart
putting together what was apart

my blindness was seen in every feel
as my fingers undid your blouse
I caressed you whole
lathered you in seduction
as you took my soul

but I was kind and gave you all
of what was hiding inside my mind

22/30

Thunderstorm

The kitchen was graypurple –
bruised clouds floated above us
and I fell into our well worn
breakfast chairs,
thunder yelling all around me.

Swollen air filled my lungs,
impossible to make myself heard
above this
familiar storm.

It’s not that we don’t love each other.
It’s not that we can’t weather our
self-made lightning.

It is my cold front emotions,
wedging under you,
resulting in unstable air filling
this house.

It is your ability to collide our
ice crystals, over and over, to form
electric charges in desperate need of
release.

We are a thunderstorm.

Today’s forecast calls for taking
precautions, possible danger,
taking shelter.

Tomorrow?
We are the comfortable afternoon
storm people want
for reading and tea drinking.  



*Note: Late post due to excused absence

23 of 30

cherry pits in the grass


I wish we could sit on the porch
eating fresh cherries
me giggling
you grinning
and grandma scowling
as you deliberately spit pits in the yard
I know that's why you did it
for the sole purpose of making me laugh
grandma too, if she was honest
even though it made her mad
I caught her more than once
snickering into her hanky
all the while outwardly grumbling
now when I look back
it’s easy to lose track of all the things you did
silly stuff you said
just to see me smile
soaking in my innocent joy
I think you knew early on
perhaps even before I was born
your time was allotted
with a short expiration date
and what you did have was such a challenge
so full of pain
and those damn shrinking walls
so you crammed it chock full
a lifetime’s worth of passion in 46 short years
I can only imagine how it must have felt
knowing
you could never walk your girls down the aisle
would never have a chance
to proudly hold us
in the traditional father-daughter dance
or cradle your first grandchild with tears in your grey eyes
you knew
whatever happiness you gave me
I also gave you
I wanna go back
just to soak it all in
forget tomorrows or the past
and just live
Sassy & her daddy watching sunsets
in silence
as sky blue pink fades
forever
into black

23/30

Sonnet of Pus: Day Twenty-Three

Could such a simple form command such range,
Mere gross of syllables in heart-beat time?
That once was naught but love and loves exchange’,
Could such a form now scream and bleed in rhyme?

Such anger and despair so long concealed,
Like leeches’ draw, such fetid poison stain.
That world might gaze, infected thoughts’ reveal,
Might gag, the stench so thick from Love’s remains.

With grunt of words “a mutant I would seem,”
In “sewer pipe and iron rust” demands
That let me cry, “my humanness redeem!”
Its form resides in my new words command.

'Could such a simple form command such range
That once was naught but love and loves’ exchange?

Unique Words: 78

#NaPoWriMo2019

NaPoGloPoWriMo2019

23/30

He Shook Her World

The time he shook her world the day snow fell,
For she was yet to learn his language spun.
And it was her first time under its spell
Of silent drifts that muted out the sun.

For she was drama borne on crested waves.
The time he shook her world the day snow fell,
He sought to claim the native of the caves
As if to see her rising from a shell.

He heard the siren’s words & knew them well
Upon the ocean wind of lyrics sown.
The time he shook her world the day snow fell,
Would either be for love or lover flown.

And when at last for Fate to lay its wreath,
His voice reciting with the tidal swell,
She laid down arrows and her quiver’s sheath,
The time he shook her world the day snow fell.




unique words: 82

#NaPoWriMo2019

NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019

23.

Soaphistry

Today's prompt fails to successfully propagate:
a theme unfamiliar
I'd rather go for a soak than watch a soap,
not that the acting is bad
or the story lacking,
quite the opposite
as they strive to create art that truly reflects life
- all the glory and failure and fighting,
it is simply that they do not do it for me.
I do however favour 'Soap'
parodying to absurd degrees,
now that is my cup of tea
the mundane and trivial reactions
to the preposterous adventures
hoping to snag and snare
a few more viewers
fully aware of its nature:
a meta-soap that comes clean in its attempts.

(Unique words: 76.)


23a.

Weird will


Give me the fantastical and wonderful
the bizarre farce
holds more sway over me
than a hundred streaming soaps ever could.
I am forever in a stupor and haze
unable to shake this miasma
and as such do not see clearly;
the fortunately fleeting
moments of clarity
left me scared and soul-scarred,
I do not wish or want to be so aware
as clarity is a curse
opening eyes to gritty grim reality
encouraging despair or inaction
as life becomes futile and fruitless
and all course
merely dull shouts in an uncaring darkness.
Whereas the daft and quirky way
cast light heartedness
where serious efforts are taken to be silly,
sufficiently creating a warped mirror
more enlightening in distortion,
to the stupidity of impudent convention
where the way of things is accepted
but not fixed although clearly broken.
Such escapism never truly escapes
yet is quasi-Icarus:
flapping with one wing while falling.
Far better that, than to never fly
prisoned and beholden to the same continuum.
They may not break the bonds
but turn the chains of binding
into a fashionable boa
with a few turn of the hands
and mocking solemnity,
acting against actuality
as anywhere and everywhere
can become a stage
in order to perform the bizarre
that is but the normal re-presented
in another light.

(Unique words: 147.)

(Unique word total: 200.)

23/30

A Bad Poem

If I wrote you a really bad poem
Would you be honest and tell me truth
As I explore different ways and forms
I want to be sure I’m making good use
Trying out new things to expand my mind
And eventually write you better verses

But you’ll notice that I’ll code my verses
Getting lost in the meaning of the poem
Even then you don’t really seem to mind
Because within the lines I conceal the truth
It’s true, my poetry is my journal put to use
As I explore different ways and forms

And when I’ve tried new ways and forms
I’ve noticed I’m more proud of my verses
I feel like I’ve made progress and put to use
My life experiences written in a poem
It’s a little intimidating to tell the truth
But I feel like I’ve expanded my mind.

So if I write a bad ode I hope you don’t mind
It’s the way the notion takes shape and forms
Because in writing I can always find the truth
Being honest with myself expressed in verses
Even if you’re lost in the meaning of the poem
At least I feel I’ve tried and put it to good use

So when reading this format I’ve put to use
Maybe the repeating lines will come to mind
This is not the way I usually write a poem
But something my heart writes and forms
I just want to make sure you enjoy the verses
Because I’ve always looked to you for the truth

And there is nothing like the brutal truth
To let me know if I’ve put my words to good use
So that you and others can enjoy the verses
I want to make sure I stir the reader’s mind
In the way the lines take shape and forms
Ideas that seemed good in a bad poem

So when you read the verses tell me truth
If the poem makes sense then I’ve put to good use
The words my mind shapes and forms

-----------------------
339 Words
132 Unique
#NaPoWriMo2019 

24/30


Feelings

I wonder how life would be if I cannot feel anything
If nothing can touch my heart
If nothing can affect my mind
If nothing can reach my soul

Life will have no meaning if I cannot feel its pulse moving in everything I see around me
If I cannot feel the rhythm of its flow inside me
If I cannot appreciate what life and living is all about

What is beauty if my heart can't appreciate it
If my eyes only see it with detachment but not feel it?

What is love when there is no feelings involve?
When the ability to feel the other person is absent
When everything becomes mechanical devoid of feelings?

What is friendship when the care and concern is nil
When you cannot feel the absence or the loss of the other
When you are not affected by what the other is going through

Our feelings are what make us human
That make us unique and different from other creatures
Our ability to feel different emotions is inherent in us
It is in our nature

Feel everything that you can feel
Go through your emotions feel them
To live is to feel do not deny it
You are alive never allow your heart to harden
Never lose your sense of feeling


#NaPoWriMo 2019

*note: double posting due to illness*

22/30

Snake in the Grass

I see you quite clearly you snake in the grass
Always in someone business and never the last
To know the latest gossip, to know every line
It’s almost like you have it set up by design
Willing your victims into a false sense of security
So you can mine for information your pleasure to see
You care not who you hurt though imperfect you are too
Not caring though and only looking at the things others do
Nitpicking at its worst when it comes to their job
Like you’re the queen or something, still acting like a snob
Come on I can see through you and know your little game
Though to call you out no, never to call it by name
What good would it do if all you do is defy
Evidence keeps stacking up and will soon be sky high
Planning it, it seems, seems to be your forte
Crashing all dreams of what the other ones say
Being offended at what’s no right to be yours
Offending all over the place yourself, I’m not counting the scores
Losing track of this is not some small task
I’ve lost count of the numbers and am too afraid to ask
Somehow I know it will bounce right back to your ears
Wondering if I couldn’t care less is my fear
There’s a reason all these rumors always stop at my head
Some things aren’t my business and better left unsaid
So as not to create rifts that can never be repaired
Can’t count the times how many feelings I’ve spared
You can’t ever be trusted to do the right thing
In the “real world” you’ll learn about what happens when you “sing”
It will be a harsh lesson in reality to be sure
I fear that this harsh lesson may be your only cure

4/23/19

Unique words: 180

*note: double posting due to illness*

23/30

Into the Night

Come with me into the night to have such work to do
Changing all perceptions and to make a different hue
The night is not something to be afraid of nor the dark
It’s few between the baddies who make it seem so stark
The sounds are all different from the chirping of the day
You might hear some howling or the trees as they sway
Seeing a pair of eyes that may be looking out at you
Just as curious about them as they are curious about you
The moon as it casts its light on the landscape
Bathing it in a silvery aura, a sight leaving some agape
No words used to describe the ghostly aura that is
Content to just watch on and leave it at this
Everything looks different and turns to shades of gray
Doesn’t look so cluttered or out of place this way
Instead of bright lights you can look out and see the stars
Not pretending to look up when your view may be scarred
The beauty of the night sky is something to behold
Worth more than any weight of silver and gold
Beauty unsung and unseen by most of those who dwell
In daylight with one star only, a personal hell
There is so much to see and so much to do
That one lifetime would not be enough, nor would two
Not words enough to describe all that is there
I almost do a disservice writing this, though I do dare
It’s not about evil and not about giving fright
But enjoying all the days, especially at night

4/23/19

Unique words: 151

*sorry if added already, can't remember, long journey, tired and need rest rather than sifting through to check. Love and light.


Title: Earth Day
Twenty Three of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Six

#NaPoWriMo19

In tiredness I seem to write for the soul, her soul or mine,
yet when the Sun beats down in this aggressive display of Climate change
and as I notice cracks in the Earth before May,
my soul seems to fray.

I like to believe that in doing my part,
litter picking, planting, not using chemicals, giving wildlife a home
that I can aid, in a peaceful, solitary way
but not today, when the Earth seems more mindless rats in a concrete jungle than not,
seems too small a plot.

I take a nap beneath the cherry and apple,
imagine an endless succession of humans clear in their goal of protecting this planet,
planting, locally sourcing, nurturing, abandoning plastic
and I realise with my disposable nappies, my diesel car, my shampoo bottle I am no better than any other,
no one will be Earth's lover.

23/30

ON THE GREAT WAVE

I rode
The Great Wave
With its many grabbing hands
All the way into the ground
The other day

Pummeled into submission
By the goddess of sand
(who held me desperately for a time)
I was pulled back
Into the watery maw

Blind now I go
With the gathering currents
Joining fingers with the rest
Of her adherents
Ready to embrace again

The salt in my body
is the sea in me,
Eroding,
Receding,
Exploding and pleading


#napowrimo2019

23/30

Rules Of Engagement

An Athena; not Persephone
if you know what I mean -
or perhaps you're thinking
This is all Greek to me

Her powers of insight keen
earned from hours danced
in a checkered courtyard
turned arena blood sport

Once wisteria wallflower
neither Prom or Promised
but a Queen nevertheless;
now takes no prisoners
in this game of thrones -

Kings she owns  










for Ahavati with Love 💜💑💋

23/30  The Secret Garden

Grandpa’s vegetable garden lay behind a tall fence
in the rear of the yard closed off to prying eyes and
open to wild rabbits so small they all but hid in the
grass but for their ears sticking up.  

It was quite a plot with stepping stones placed
throughout to create walkways of sorts though
few were invited to step trepidatively around tender
meandering vegetable plants.  

A small fence around the garden kept the
rabbits out, but not my Nana, she was always
happily poking around in there all summer long.
   
                  91 words, 68 unique