Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo Competition
25.
Dead Language
Dear reader I bring sad tidings,
as the future holds not hope
but the death of taste and art
where the vox populi
continuously murder language
each lazy shortcut
yet another knife into the noble body
that was once revered and worshipped
but will fall
to be trampled and besmirched underfoot
lying unheeded and hidden
beneath the ugly sounds
that blanket the land
a foul pox spread from one to another,
this accursed miasma
so entwined within the general populace
that to be without its insidious taint
to be eloquent and precise
is a feat inconceivable,
thus does the once fair and sweet language die
not by foreign conquest
but by the culture of the ex-colonial cousins
where bombastic ejaculations
are prized and honoured
in increasingly absurd ways;
where is commonplace
to defecate linguistically
and assault companions verbally,
these are dark times for the vernacular
as all etiquette and cunning speech
has been extricated and exterminated
at some unknown point.
Yet salvation for this sorry state
lies not ahead but behind,
in the tomes and tales of writers long deceased
their legacy is to form an underground language
that permeates beneath the base vernacular
so that such phrases and quotations
become second nature
their enchanted utterances
cutting through the effluvium
issuing half caught glimpses
of a dialect of decorum
forgotten, but not entirely lost.
(Unique words: 157.)
25a.
Sought Sound
I seek a sound to convey mood
or to shake current stupor by adjustment,
I seek to be transported and changed
an inner metamorphosis enacted
in order to achieve inner equilibrium,
yet present attempts are in vain
and the conjunction between sound and thought
is as yet unaccomplished,
perpetuating the ill humour
until a sudden change when least expected
will adjust all so as to become harmonious:
the desired alteration appearing close
although only accomplished when felt, not heard
the reverberations transcending the material;
being of the aether in nature.
(Unique words: 69.)
(Unique word total: 206.)
Dead Language
Dear reader I bring sad tidings,
as the future holds not hope
but the death of taste and art
where the vox populi
continuously murder language
each lazy shortcut
yet another knife into the noble body
that was once revered and worshipped
but will fall
to be trampled and besmirched underfoot
lying unheeded and hidden
beneath the ugly sounds
that blanket the land
a foul pox spread from one to another,
this accursed miasma
so entwined within the general populace
that to be without its insidious taint
to be eloquent and precise
is a feat inconceivable,
thus does the once fair and sweet language die
not by foreign conquest
but by the culture of the ex-colonial cousins
where bombastic ejaculations
are prized and honoured
in increasingly absurd ways;
where is commonplace
to defecate linguistically
and assault companions verbally,
these are dark times for the vernacular
as all etiquette and cunning speech
has been extricated and exterminated
at some unknown point.
Yet salvation for this sorry state
lies not ahead but behind,
in the tomes and tales of writers long deceased
their legacy is to form an underground language
that permeates beneath the base vernacular
so that such phrases and quotations
become second nature
their enchanted utterances
cutting through the effluvium
issuing half caught glimpses
of a dialect of decorum
forgotten, but not entirely lost.
(Unique words: 157.)
25a.
Sought Sound
I seek a sound to convey mood
or to shake current stupor by adjustment,
I seek to be transported and changed
an inner metamorphosis enacted
in order to achieve inner equilibrium,
yet present attempts are in vain
and the conjunction between sound and thought
is as yet unaccomplished,
perpetuating the ill humour
until a sudden change when least expected
will adjust all so as to become harmonious:
the desired alteration appearing close
although only accomplished when felt, not heard
the reverberations transcending the material;
being of the aether in nature.
(Unique words: 69.)
(Unique word total: 206.)
25/30
INT/EXT
I always loved that every storm
Carries with it an edge
Where you can step in,
Or when needed, step out.
I don’t require the eye of a hurricane-
Just the existence
Of a border
I can follow as it moves.
When I need to get wet
And feel it fall upon my skin,
I will step in,
Possibly further, walk about.
But at some point
I’ll find that edge again,
Strip the storm off of my limbs,
Lie back and reflect upon the view.
#napowrimo2019
INT/EXT
I always loved that every storm
Carries with it an edge
Where you can step in,
Or when needed, step out.
I don’t require the eye of a hurricane-
Just the existence
Of a border
I can follow as it moves.
When I need to get wet
And feel it fall upon my skin,
I will step in,
Possibly further, walk about.
But at some point
I’ll find that edge again,
Strip the storm off of my limbs,
Lie back and reflect upon the view.
#napowrimo2019
25/30
Schlitz and Giggles
Pour another round,
Tonight it’s going down!
A couple of more nice cold lagers will do,
My glass is almost empty,
But I know there’s plenty,
Oh you bet we’ll have barrels of fun too.
We’ll remember the times,
Anything that comes to mind,
Laugh at old jokes as if they were new,
We share the same struggles,
We’ll forget about our troubles,
Just for a couple of hours to get us through.
Have another draught,
Surely we’ll have a blast,
The night is young so we’ll let it all unfold,
And our hearts will rejoice,
When we hear a familiar voice,
Finding old friends like we just found gold.
Let’s drink and reminisce,
Like the clock doesn’t exist,
We’ll wonder how and where it all went,
We’ll have a couple of more beers,
Laugh until we shed tears,
We’ll stay young forever in the present.
The next time you’re feeling down
We’ll go out and paint the town,
We’ll drink and sing to get you out of that funk,
It may not be a doozy,
We’ll have fun and be goofy,
Even if we just talk about the last time we got drunk.
-----------------------
194 Words
126 Unique
#NaPoWriMo2019
Schlitz and Giggles
Pour another round,
Tonight it’s going down!
A couple of more nice cold lagers will do,
My glass is almost empty,
But I know there’s plenty,
Oh you bet we’ll have barrels of fun too.
We’ll remember the times,
Anything that comes to mind,
Laugh at old jokes as if they were new,
We share the same struggles,
We’ll forget about our troubles,
Just for a couple of hours to get us through.
Have another draught,
Surely we’ll have a blast,
The night is young so we’ll let it all unfold,
And our hearts will rejoice,
When we hear a familiar voice,
Finding old friends like we just found gold.
Let’s drink and reminisce,
Like the clock doesn’t exist,
We’ll wonder how and where it all went,
We’ll have a couple of more beers,
Laugh until we shed tears,
We’ll stay young forever in the present.
The next time you’re feeling down
We’ll go out and paint the town,
We’ll drink and sing to get you out of that funk,
It may not be a doozy,
We’ll have fun and be goofy,
Even if we just talk about the last time we got drunk.
-----------------------
194 Words
126 Unique
#NaPoWriMo2019
Title: Birds
Twenty-Five of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Ten
#NaPoWriMo19
In the darkness, above the cardoons, echiums and rhubarb I can sense the courageous buzzing,
a storm dancing in unseen cloud, a rain of thousand strong army proud
and drumming up their rage. I worry for the birds.
My womb can feel the New Moon sauntering a gentle journey to this space,
songs of my youth dance on my diaphragm, songs of blue tit
and warbler too - I long, by night, for the songs of morning bird
to be heard with coffee in hand while I stand until roofing with a dewy view.
Goodnight Earth,
heal for a precious day,
goodnight my soul
- in your quiet way.
Dream the dreams only gardeners do - of bulbs growing ghost roots under beds of deep snow,
nightmares of water running dry without storms, nothing to aid them with Summer's too warm.
With pillow under head
and legs under sheet,
thankful to the storms -
goodnight dear songbirds until again we meet.
26/30
Emotional Rollercoaster
I'm riding this rollercoaster emotion
Rising and falling inside me
Swaying like a pendulum
From the well of feelings in my heart
Waves of sadness and happiness
Alternating in crest and trough
Rolling through the core of my being
Creating a discordant harmony
I'm perplexed at this unrest
Taking hold of my inner state
The fragility of my emotion
That makes me feel vulnerable
I have yet to master my emotions
And understand the cause of this inner disharmony
That surfaces every now and then
Like gray clouds blocking the sun
#NaPoWriMo 2019
Emotional Rollercoaster
I'm riding this rollercoaster emotion
Rising and falling inside me
Swaying like a pendulum
From the well of feelings in my heart
Waves of sadness and happiness
Alternating in crest and trough
Rolling through the core of my being
Creating a discordant harmony
I'm perplexed at this unrest
Taking hold of my inner state
The fragility of my emotion
That makes me feel vulnerable
I have yet to master my emotions
And understand the cause of this inner disharmony
That surfaces every now and then
Like gray clouds blocking the sun
#NaPoWriMo 2019
25/30
Proverbs [ NaPoWriMo 2019 Collection ]
IV. Endgame
iii. House of Lords
Created Gaja
into a vast Indian army
yet only moderate influence
against his king's enemy-
until arriving within Europe
this destined authoritative Bishop
during Middle Ages, religious-
dogmatic insignia, rising
Liberated from beastly constraints
granted unlimited range
across civilized diagonals-
self-ordained Lord's House
Funny, isn't it, my father would say
how organized doctrine infiltrates
even innocent war games-
solidifying historical placement
through the endlessness of chess-
simply to crush an opponent's mind
. . .
words - 72
unique - 72
Proverbs [ NaPoWriMo 2019 Collection ]
IV. Endgame
iii. House of Lords
Created Gaja
into a vast Indian army
yet only moderate influence
against his king's enemy-
until arriving within Europe
this destined authoritative Bishop
during Middle Ages, religious-
dogmatic insignia, rising
Liberated from beastly constraints
granted unlimited range
across civilized diagonals-
self-ordained Lord's House
Funny, isn't it, my father would say
how organized doctrine infiltrates
even innocent war games-
solidifying historical placement
through the endlessness of chess-
simply to crush an opponent's mind
. . .
words - 72
unique - 72
25/30
right way
Of course it catches the sun.
I can feel it flashing
on my neck! -
it taps
just above my collarbone -
silver clip of collar "o" -
where only the worthiest leash might go.
It taps,
tells me
to stand up straighter
and reminds me
that if I'm not at least
gently smiling
I'm forgetting something.
Grace -
though it is not at all graceful for me to have noticed this -
my grace is growing,
trailing where I go
like ripples from rowing
over a river of glass.
Or wearing
near-four-inch heeled boots
and feeling like liquid
even over the sidewalks
bruised and bloodied
where roots tore it up
and spring rain kissed it better
and puddles shine up
as I come by
in my raincoat,
collar,
well-fit jeans
and heels
walking with such love
for the way I'm going
I'm nearly skipping to class.
right way
Of course it catches the sun.
I can feel it flashing
on my neck! -
it taps
just above my collarbone -
silver clip of collar "o" -
where only the worthiest leash might go.
It taps,
tells me
to stand up straighter
and reminds me
that if I'm not at least
gently smiling
I'm forgetting something.
Grace -
though it is not at all graceful for me to have noticed this -
my grace is growing,
trailing where I go
like ripples from rowing
over a river of glass.
Or wearing
near-four-inch heeled boots
and feeling like liquid
even over the sidewalks
bruised and bloodied
where roots tore it up
and spring rain kissed it better
and puddles shine up
as I come by
in my raincoat,
collar,
well-fit jeans
and heels
walking with such love
for the way I'm going
I'm nearly skipping to class.
25/30
Blooming
Bright orange,
blooming
waves of petals
spread across the hills -
bursting through the earth's
surface to say hello
to the sun.
Our hot, dry desert
that the world loves,
brown and lifeless
for as long as I've known it -
now transformed,
surprising me with its
hidden beauty.
Pretty purples and pinks
and poppies galore,
and a bit of blue
sprinkled in here and there.
Yellow and white mixed in
everywhere, and
the most vibrant green grass
I've ever seen.
Fields full of
God's artwork,
little gifts from heaven
stretching out as far
as I can see.
Blooming
Bright orange,
blooming
waves of petals
spread across the hills -
bursting through the earth's
surface to say hello
to the sun.
Our hot, dry desert
that the world loves,
brown and lifeless
for as long as I've known it -
now transformed,
surprising me with its
hidden beauty.
Pretty purples and pinks
and poppies galore,
and a bit of blue
sprinkled in here and there.
Yellow and white mixed in
everywhere, and
the most vibrant green grass
I've ever seen.
Fields full of
God's artwork,
little gifts from heaven
stretching out as far
as I can see.
25/30
Holds up both hands as lightning rods
Commands Universe at beck and call
Demands nothing from the Gods
or knowing this will all turn out
Giving no thought to odds
on edge steep precipice
She stands precarious;
begs not any Muses
Refuses any panic;
Spread wings
Soul sings
Poem is
written
DIVINELY
written
Poem is
Soul sings
Spread wings
Refuses any panic;
begs not any Muses
She stands precarious;
on edge steep precipice
Giving no thought to odds
or knowing this will all turn out
Demands nothing from the Gods
Commands Universe at beck and call
Holds up both hands as lightning rods
25/30
for Ahavati with Love 💜💑💋
inspired by her epic NaPoWriMo poem writing
perhaps a palindrome
The Title is in the middle
Holds up both hands as lightning rods
Commands Universe at beck and call
Demands nothing from the Gods
or knowing this will all turn out
Giving no thought to odds
on edge steep precipice
She stands precarious;
begs not any Muses
Refuses any panic;
Spread wings
Soul sings
Poem is
written
DIVINELY
written
Poem is
Soul sings
Spread wings
Refuses any panic;
begs not any Muses
She stands precarious;
on edge steep precipice
Giving no thought to odds
or knowing this will all turn out
Demands nothing from the Gods
Commands Universe at beck and call
Holds up both hands as lightning rods
25/30
for Ahavati with Love 💜💑💋
inspired by her epic NaPoWriMo poem writing
perhaps a palindrome
The Title is in the middle
25/30 Night And The Madman (A Mad Dream)
I told the night, ‘I am mad’,
and The Night replied, ‘Nay, you are not,
for you wonder of it and are not quite sure’.
‘But I am certain’, I replied,
‘Nay, you are not, for you incessantly look back
to reminisc, not forward to uncharted steps’.
‘But I am like you, O Night, for my Heaven
and Hell are the same at once’.
‘Nay, you are not like me’, said The Night,
‘For you fear Heaven and are too comfortable
in Hell’.
‘But I am boundless like you, O Night’.
‘Nay, you are not, for your world is bounded
by what you believe, and such things are few’.
‘I am brave as you, O Night’.
‘Nay, you are not, for you have yet to face your
own monster-self and be at peace and acceptance
of it’.
‘But I love all things as you’.
‘Nay, you do not for you only love that which casts
a shadow, and the many things which do not, you
do not love’.
‘But, as you, O Night, I seek only to love that which
will complete me’.
‘Nay, you do not, for you fail to realize that you are
already complete as I, Night, need no confirmation
of myself’.
Nay, I am not as mad as The Night
I fear uncertainty
I fear many things, Love most of all;
its giving and taking,
its pouring of salt on wounds,
its harsh reflection of self.
Nay, I am not mad like The Night
.....
248 words, 112 unique
#KhalilGibran
I told the night, ‘I am mad’,
and The Night replied, ‘Nay, you are not,
for you wonder of it and are not quite sure’.
‘But I am certain’, I replied,
‘Nay, you are not, for you incessantly look back
to reminisc, not forward to uncharted steps’.
‘But I am like you, O Night, for my Heaven
and Hell are the same at once’.
‘Nay, you are not like me’, said The Night,
‘For you fear Heaven and are too comfortable
in Hell’.
‘But I am boundless like you, O Night’.
‘Nay, you are not, for your world is bounded
by what you believe, and such things are few’.
‘I am brave as you, O Night’.
‘Nay, you are not, for you have yet to face your
own monster-self and be at peace and acceptance
of it’.
‘But I love all things as you’.
‘Nay, you do not for you only love that which casts
a shadow, and the many things which do not, you
do not love’.
‘But, as you, O Night, I seek only to love that which
will complete me’.
‘Nay, you do not, for you fail to realize that you are
already complete as I, Night, need no confirmation
of myself’.
Nay, I am not as mad as The Night
I fear uncertainty
I fear many things, Love most of all;
its giving and taking,
its pouring of salt on wounds,
its harsh reflection of self.
Nay, I am not mad like The Night
.....
248 words, 112 unique
#KhalilGibran
25/30
Chocolate Smudges
I will always remember you
with chocolate smudged
on your smile and
brilliant face.
Sneaking pieces into pockets
and warm hands,
and while I want to stop you
(for the laundry’s sake),
I never do.
I’ll just pretreat the stains
and never let you
wear white.
Solid life advice,
by the way.
One day, you will
concern yourself with
napkins and appearances,
but until then
I’ll breathe in chocolate
every time I ask
for a kiss.
Chocolate Smudges
I will always remember you
with chocolate smudged
on your smile and
brilliant face.
Sneaking pieces into pockets
and warm hands,
and while I want to stop you
(for the laundry’s sake),
I never do.
I’ll just pretreat the stains
and never let you
wear white.
Solid life advice,
by the way.
One day, you will
concern yourself with
napkins and appearances,
but until then
I’ll breathe in chocolate
every time I ask
for a kiss.
Rapture: Notes of an Online Journal
25/30
”Rapture”
As gravitation muscles flex,
Draws in the vice of cranium,
Its barometric pull and stretch,
Cylindrical of warpage deep.
This conflagration witch’s hex,
Repeats each minute vehement.
To have me roll my eyes and weep,
Confound and force my river spent.
Release this curse, I utter now;
We are the worshipers that bend.
Before the storm, let go the gate,
The deluge of the rapture send!
55 unique words
#NaPoWriMo2019
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019
25/30
”Rapture”
As gravitation muscles flex,
Draws in the vice of cranium,
Its barometric pull and stretch,
Cylindrical of warpage deep.
This conflagration witch’s hex,
Repeats each minute vehement.
To have me roll my eyes and weep,
Confound and force my river spent.
Release this curse, I utter now;
We are the worshipers that bend.
Before the storm, let go the gate,
The deluge of the rapture send!
55 unique words
#NaPoWriMo2019
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019
25/30
Close Encounters
It happened once again today while sitting at a light
waiting to turn left, while she, wishing things were right
The face was not familiar, yet I'd seen her many times
bent, broken, beat down, yes, I recognized the signs
Grandson at his school awaiting, the dog taking up a seat
although I felt to lend a ride, I left her on the street
Up the hill, around the curve, then with him, had a talk
then round the bend and down again to save her from a walk
no longer there, the corner bare, so with her never spoke
leaving this without much bliss not even an anecdote
yet it breaks a heart when thought about a life lived in distress
and if I could I surely would bequeath what luck I've left
134 words, 99 unique
I will never stop believing a better world can begin with a favor
Close Encounters
It happened once again today while sitting at a light
waiting to turn left, while she, wishing things were right
The face was not familiar, yet I'd seen her many times
bent, broken, beat down, yes, I recognized the signs
Grandson at his school awaiting, the dog taking up a seat
although I felt to lend a ride, I left her on the street
Up the hill, around the curve, then with him, had a talk
then round the bend and down again to save her from a walk
no longer there, the corner bare, so with her never spoke
leaving this without much bliss not even an anecdote
yet it breaks a heart when thought about a life lived in distress
and if I could I surely would bequeath what luck I've left
134 words, 99 unique
I will never stop believing a better world can begin with a favor
25/30
To Be or Not To Be... Armed
Small whispers, exchanges lacking luster in karma fueled dreams
Feudal warlords divided against the other as it seems
Standing off sides, blades drawn, words of war left unsaid
Though heavy brow left upon each helmeted head
Protecting hearts, minds encased within impenetrable armor
Eyes searching vulnerabilities to swiftly dishonor
The foe that does not speak but knows how to damage
While the other, the muted sage, sparks all things savage
With a searching look a knowing gaze that pierce through any shield to the heart
This was over before it began, with the foe unarmed from the start
Not to be taken down by some unceremonious blow
But too arrogant to prepare, no wits, no weapon with him to show
4/25/19
Unique words: 97
To Be or Not To Be... Armed
Small whispers, exchanges lacking luster in karma fueled dreams
Feudal warlords divided against the other as it seems
Standing off sides, blades drawn, words of war left unsaid
Though heavy brow left upon each helmeted head
Protecting hearts, minds encased within impenetrable armor
Eyes searching vulnerabilities to swiftly dishonor
The foe that does not speak but knows how to damage
While the other, the muted sage, sparks all things savage
With a searching look a knowing gaze that pierce through any shield to the heart
This was over before it began, with the foe unarmed from the start
Not to be taken down by some unceremonious blow
But too arrogant to prepare, no wits, no weapon with him to show
4/25/19
Unique words: 97
MINUTIAE
Poem 25 of 30
Smartphone serenade,
birds chirping, soothing guitar playing,
easing me awake.
5:50 day begins...almost...
5 snoozes, 5 satisfied grins,
6:15 it’s cover’s up.
Dazed, somewhat lugubrious,
inching my way to the shower.
Wake the sons.
Take them to school.
On the way jamming to “Hotel California,”
marveling that a 16 year old still appreciates “my music”
Also, getting homesick…the mere mention of California.
Lunch prep, 20 minute nap,
racing to the bus stop.
Utter mi oración de la mañana, en español y en voz alta.
Secure in the notion…
that God listen to all our prayers…
even when punctuated by…
a how-dare-you-cut-me-off epithet,
with corresponding gesticulation.
Just in time, at the bus depot.
Cruising the HOV,
Thumbing my nose at car people….not really, in my mind,
which frankly has a mind of its own, we taunted them good..
I mean well.
Snapped a pic of a cool cloud,
as I am wont to do.
I see a beaver nooooo a sunfish, anteater perhaps.
Favorite podcast floods my ears, Marc Maron WTF.
Touchdown downtown.
Midst the skyscraper canyons.
Audio swapped to some aural caffeine, "Let There Be Rock."
An AC/DC history lesson.
I still choke up little
when I hear the roots of rock riff.
Newly enthused I reach my desk.
Work, work, work!
Back on the bus, writing a poem.
"It's just another day, do do do dooo doo,
It's just another day!"**
**It's Just Another Day" written by Paul McCartney, 1971
