Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020 Competition
29 of 30
A Quiz Life
Is it truth,
For the hopeless and lost
With arms extended
From tired bodies
No burn left in them
And fingers wave
Symbiotic water flow
A free fall
From a quiz life
And the buzzing of it
Gone
Though the reaching still tries to breech
And pound
And claw their way
Out of it
The eclipse and filthy whole
Muddy with grasping
Parched from searching
Is it ever finding?
A way back home
A face contorts
The question why screamed
And floats away on silence
And it's cloud
So...
With almost no options
And grey hair thinning
Wired and running from his head
he ties his reasoning on the leg of a homing pigeon
He does not realise
In all his disturbance
That they flew off into non existance
That this logic will not fly
Or ever return to it's keeper
A thumbnail sketch
Of a face grinning youth
now tethered
With leather strip
binding itself to arched claw
And staked grounding
To prevent itself from
Ever leaving
Cooing up and away from self
And swallowed by skies
Of foreign, aging foreverness
The palpable infininate
Misplaced
Switched at birth
One story goes...
And still others laid out
And in the cards
The hands that placed them
old and paper skinned
Veins of wisdom poking through
pulsing calm and slow
Trees of knowledge
run ease in the lines of her palm
Her eyes are met
With great fear
terrifying roars of uncertainty come out of swallowing throat
And he sinks back in
And down into unknowing
joining other hands
That wag and claim
Need
And try to earn our pity
beg to be plucked
And lifted out of
And answered
He owns a world
In his own right
he owns a world of masked sight
And a bliss
When watched on one side of it
but on the other
One notices
he is either dead
Or in the dreadful state of not quite dying
And that he has closed hellish gates
On what lay outside of these
To pity this
I might warrant it
Might enter them and hear the swing
but to lay compassion in his hand
I do defy condemnation
I do earn my own reward
and breathing state
In the eternal
I will know absolution
I will grasp truth
And squeeze it into a diamond
A Quiz Life
Is it truth,
For the hopeless and lost
With arms extended
From tired bodies
No burn left in them
And fingers wave
Symbiotic water flow
A free fall
From a quiz life
And the buzzing of it
Gone
Though the reaching still tries to breech
And pound
And claw their way
Out of it
The eclipse and filthy whole
Muddy with grasping
Parched from searching
Is it ever finding?
A way back home
A face contorts
The question why screamed
And floats away on silence
And it's cloud
So...
With almost no options
And grey hair thinning
Wired and running from his head
he ties his reasoning on the leg of a homing pigeon
He does not realise
In all his disturbance
That they flew off into non existance
That this logic will not fly
Or ever return to it's keeper
A thumbnail sketch
Of a face grinning youth
now tethered
With leather strip
binding itself to arched claw
And staked grounding
To prevent itself from
Ever leaving
Cooing up and away from self
And swallowed by skies
Of foreign, aging foreverness
The palpable infininate
Misplaced
Switched at birth
One story goes...
And still others laid out
And in the cards
The hands that placed them
old and paper skinned
Veins of wisdom poking through
pulsing calm and slow
Trees of knowledge
run ease in the lines of her palm
Her eyes are met
With great fear
terrifying roars of uncertainty come out of swallowing throat
And he sinks back in
And down into unknowing
joining other hands
That wag and claim
Need
And try to earn our pity
beg to be plucked
And lifted out of
And answered
He owns a world
In his own right
he owns a world of masked sight
And a bliss
When watched on one side of it
but on the other
One notices
he is either dead
Or in the dreadful state of not quite dying
And that he has closed hellish gates
On what lay outside of these
To pity this
I might warrant it
Might enter them and hear the swing
but to lay compassion in his hand
I do defy condemnation
I do earn my own reward
and breathing state
In the eternal
I will know absolution
I will grasp truth
And squeeze it into a diamond
30/30
in the infinites
The wind whipped away the tears falling --
Overlooking the sea, high up
In a lighthouse,
We looked up awestruck at the purple, pink, and orange
Of the twilit skies.
You wrapped your arms around my waist and
Pulled me closer, sway.
You know that I'm remembering
The cruelness --
Of all that came before.
There were chances that we've lost,
Questions forever unanswered,
Our what ifs and maybes and
All that got away --
In all the possibilities and
Infinites --
In this city, in this lighthouse,
Somehow,
Some way,
You are
You and I
Am me, and
Beloved, in all the past lives we've missed --
In this timeline --
You belong to me.
And from all the time without you:
Pages and pages of poetry unwritten --
And those that were penned just went up
In the air unread,
Unheard,
But in all the madness and the corners we've
Turned,
Right here,
Right now,
You belong to me.
The waves crashing below are now just a dull roar,
Compared to your soothing words, your promise,
To our dreams of Paris.
And high as we are,
Not so high
That I fear I'll never get to come down.
And now on the way down, I'll have you
Beside me, to hold my hand in yours and
Guide me, and me --
Guide you.
And when distance inevitably comes --
You'll remember the songs and
The words to each melody,
The steps to each dance, and
How I
Love you and how --
Despite the odds and the tides,
The disagreeing stars in the skies,
As sure as I am of how we have
Limited time --
Beloved,
As I belong to you,
You
Belong to me.
277 words
144 unique
- 30 - love letters to the fandoms, characters, and real people who gifted me escape from a very bleak reality.
in the infinites
The wind whipped away the tears falling --
Overlooking the sea, high up
In a lighthouse,
We looked up awestruck at the purple, pink, and orange
Of the twilit skies.
You wrapped your arms around my waist and
Pulled me closer, sway.
You know that I'm remembering
The cruelness --
Of all that came before.
There were chances that we've lost,
Questions forever unanswered,
Our what ifs and maybes and
All that got away --
In all the possibilities and
Infinites --
In this city, in this lighthouse,
Somehow,
Some way,
You are
You and I
Am me, and
Beloved, in all the past lives we've missed --
In this timeline --
You belong to me.
And from all the time without you:
Pages and pages of poetry unwritten --
And those that were penned just went up
In the air unread,
Unheard,
But in all the madness and the corners we've
Turned,
Right here,
Right now,
You belong to me.
The waves crashing below are now just a dull roar,
Compared to your soothing words, your promise,
To our dreams of Paris.
And high as we are,
Not so high
That I fear I'll never get to come down.
And now on the way down, I'll have you
Beside me, to hold my hand in yours and
Guide me, and me --
Guide you.
And when distance inevitably comes --
You'll remember the songs and
The words to each melody,
The steps to each dance, and
How I
Love you and how --
Despite the odds and the tides,
The disagreeing stars in the skies,
As sure as I am of how we have
Limited time --
Beloved,
As I belong to you,
You
Belong to me.
277 words
144 unique
- 30 - love letters to the fandoms, characters, and real people who gifted me escape from a very bleak reality.
29 of 30
Appetency..
Where root the thoughts that perspire
That feed the spring of rising desire
That stoke a fire to burn
And cast their fervoured glow
Through a cheek to bare
The heated flush of blood
Found beneath a brush of skin
An undeniable pulse of change there in
Flows between senses..
Merging of sight and touch
With sound and the taste of such…
Where void or bathed in light
Feelings manifest from assayed thought
Burnished bright
And assume in wrought attention
An ethereal distillation
Condensing on tought skins
An essence of desire
From a wanton spring of fire
To seep and soak and consume
The appetency of handed absences..
Appetency..
Where root the thoughts that perspire
That feed the spring of rising desire
That stoke a fire to burn
And cast their fervoured glow
Through a cheek to bare
The heated flush of blood
Found beneath a brush of skin
An undeniable pulse of change there in
Flows between senses..
Merging of sight and touch
With sound and the taste of such…
Where void or bathed in light
Feelings manifest from assayed thought
Burnished bright
And assume in wrought attention
An ethereal distillation
Condensing on tought skins
An essence of desire
From a wanton spring of fire
To seep and soak and consume
The appetency of handed absences..
# 30 of 30
Day 30 of NaPoWriMo2020
The hands of the clock have struck the final hour
After completing their rotations in twenty four hours
That brought an end to a day that has passed after crossing the meridians of time
It signalled the arrival of another day
Of another challenge to be faced
Finally the end of April is here
And the last day of NaPoWriMo2020 has come
It's time to lay down my pen and close my notes for keeping
I can take a break from writing and hibernate for a while
The rigor of writing for NaPoWriMo is over
I feel a sense of relief for completing this journey
And a sense of pride for making it to the end of the competition
Somehow the experience gave me a taste of what it's like to be a writer in its true sense
With all the demands of discipline and commitment it entail
What a journey it was for my mind
Spilling thoughts and ideas for thirty days on a daily basis
Keeping in mind the rules to be followed to stay in the competition
Even when I don't feel like writing at all
Even when the inspiration to spill never come
That results in poems with less substance and depth
Yet this competition has taught me values
Essential to the making of a writer
It taught me discipline and commitment, It taught me focus, persistence and responsibility
This is the essence of NaPoWriMo I gleaned from this experience
For the second time I have completed the race
Which I consider to be a feat despite the mediocrity of my entries
I will keep coming back if only to partake in the experience
And be part of a community where writing is revered and loved
Day 30 of NaPoWriMo2020
The hands of the clock have struck the final hour
After completing their rotations in twenty four hours
That brought an end to a day that has passed after crossing the meridians of time
It signalled the arrival of another day
Of another challenge to be faced
Finally the end of April is here
And the last day of NaPoWriMo2020 has come
It's time to lay down my pen and close my notes for keeping
I can take a break from writing and hibernate for a while
The rigor of writing for NaPoWriMo is over
I feel a sense of relief for completing this journey
And a sense of pride for making it to the end of the competition
Somehow the experience gave me a taste of what it's like to be a writer in its true sense
With all the demands of discipline and commitment it entail
What a journey it was for my mind
Spilling thoughts and ideas for thirty days on a daily basis
Keeping in mind the rules to be followed to stay in the competition
Even when I don't feel like writing at all
Even when the inspiration to spill never come
That results in poems with less substance and depth
Yet this competition has taught me values
Essential to the making of a writer
It taught me discipline and commitment, It taught me focus, persistence and responsibility
This is the essence of NaPoWriMo I gleaned from this experience
For the second time I have completed the race
Which I consider to be a feat despite the mediocrity of my entries
I will keep coming back if only to partake in the experience
And be part of a community where writing is revered and loved
#29 of 30
steamed and withered from cherubic jars
Last in spirit, long in song
sung in tumultuous rapid blow.
was we coming to this by being
dragged in a tinned, repeating palindrome
so letting the mansion fall;
must be a rainbow digging up the horizon,
can be stapled down and filed away
to be said, reread by others.
Man confessor, long times boy,
drink it all up, lap-dance your head further.
The suckle light ball, steamed in there way-laid back
the avenue rays for full horizon and truthful atrocities,
So bend down and welch, drooling, confessing,
cooing to write a better resting place.
64 unique words of 97 total
steamed and withered from cherubic jars
Last in spirit, long in song
sung in tumultuous rapid blow.
was we coming to this by being
dragged in a tinned, repeating palindrome
so letting the mansion fall;
must be a rainbow digging up the horizon,
can be stapled down and filed away
to be said, reread by others.
Man confessor, long times boy,
drink it all up, lap-dance your head further.
The suckle light ball, steamed in there way-laid back
the avenue rays for full horizon and truthful atrocities,
So bend down and welch, drooling, confessing,
cooing to write a better resting place.
64 unique words of 97 total
29/30
la vie de bohéme ~ {xxiv}
bones bridge the divide,
a violent arc
suspend'd by sinew
stretch'd to supple limits
{bow'd in supplication
i do,
nadu}
flame dancing across the floor;
bending to
light {&} shadow
to the heavy cast ov thought
weighing ligaments
with insistence___
seeking asylum
reaching for the quiet recess
into the madness
coax'd from
blood {&} smoke
to touch that virgin space
that never existed
la vie de bohéme ~ {xxiv}
bones bridge the divide,
a violent arc
suspend'd by sinew
stretch'd to supple limits
{bow'd in supplication
i do,
nadu}
flame dancing across the floor;
bending to
light {&} shadow
to the heavy cast ov thought
weighing ligaments
with insistence___
seeking asylum
reaching for the quiet recess
into the madness
coax'd from
blood {&} smoke
to touch that virgin space
that never existed
29 of 30
Day 29: 29/04/2020, 22:10 GMT
No verse today thank you
Brains a bit fried,
scrambled too
add some toast and enough for a meal.
No message today
no underlying analogy
nor some pearl of wisdom penned in word
nor point of view to preach in poetic verse.
What you see is what you get;
some letters and words lying down
too tired to form something;
that early morning feeling of not wanting to leave bed,
sometime the move will be made
just not yet
five more minutes
Message on snooze.
Unique words: 64.
Day 29: 29/04/2020, 22:10 GMT
No verse today thank you
Brains a bit fried,
scrambled too
add some toast and enough for a meal.
No message today
no underlying analogy
nor some pearl of wisdom penned in word
nor point of view to preach in poetic verse.
What you see is what you get;
some letters and words lying down
too tired to form something;
that early morning feeling of not wanting to leave bed,
sometime the move will be made
just not yet
five more minutes
Message on snooze.
Unique words: 64.
29 of 30
Yosemite With No One There
(quatern)
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
That scale the walls of granite sheers,
And signal lights of coming night,
As wolves partake with no one near.
How swift the gentle brooks presume,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
How quick the trout, the falls resume,
How soft the eagle’s thermal flights.
In every corner, bears ignite,
In falling sun on meadows’ waves,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
The snowy shelfs that winter saves.
Yosemite, with no one there,
Just owls and coyotes prowling night,
And Nature brings it full aware,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
62 unique words
Yosemite With No One There
(quatern)
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
That scale the walls of granite sheers,
And signal lights of coming night,
As wolves partake with no one near.
How swift the gentle brooks presume,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
How quick the trout, the falls resume,
How soft the eagle’s thermal flights.
In every corner, bears ignite,
In falling sun on meadows’ waves,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
The snowy shelfs that winter saves.
Yosemite, with no one there,
Just owls and coyotes prowling night,
And Nature brings it full aware,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
62 unique words
29/39
chameleon
at the end
knowing the ropes is key
opening locked doors
positioning your way into view
and what a view
cool breezes on a sultry afternoon
not realizing
she's a real chameleon
with a coat of many colours
a challange to capture
as her rapture, rattles around my mind
and she's always on my mind
wiggling her way
through the broken and the pain
I hold my candle closer
in the rain
still lit
with a fire burning deep
wet t-shirt clinging to my skin
you rip yours off
and give it up to me
chameleon
at the end
knowing the ropes is key
opening locked doors
positioning your way into view
and what a view
cool breezes on a sultry afternoon
not realizing
she's a real chameleon
with a coat of many colours
a challange to capture
as her rapture, rattles around my mind
and she's always on my mind
wiggling her way
through the broken and the pain
I hold my candle closer
in the rain
still lit
with a fire burning deep
wet t-shirt clinging to my skin
you rip yours off
and give it up to me
29 of 30
One Day Longer
I have heard mothers say
“I couldn’t bear
to lose a child.”
And while I believe them,
I know the grief would
consume them, me, us,
the entire world,
I must live
to be one day
older than both
my boys.
They are swirls of color
and emotions and
body language.
They move about
this world in ways
people don’t understand,
or tolerate.
And no one will
love them,
make sure they brush their teeth,
keep the good jelly in the fridge
for them
like I do.
No one will keep
their blankets just so,
or pray the same
exact prayer
every night
like I do.
I don’t trust
this world.
Not with them.
So I will
live,
damnit,
one day longer
than they do.
So help me,
God.
One Day Longer
I have heard mothers say
“I couldn’t bear
to lose a child.”
And while I believe them,
I know the grief would
consume them, me, us,
the entire world,
I must live
to be one day
older than both
my boys.
They are swirls of color
and emotions and
body language.
They move about
this world in ways
people don’t understand,
or tolerate.
And no one will
love them,
make sure they brush their teeth,
keep the good jelly in the fridge
for them
like I do.
No one will keep
their blankets just so,
or pray the same
exact prayer
every night
like I do.
I don’t trust
this world.
Not with them.
So I will
live,
damnit,
one day longer
than they do.
So help me,
God.
#29 of 30
My Dad
I’ve always admired my dad
He never treated me like I was weak
From a young age he taught me to use a hammer
To help fix a car
Eventually swing an axe
I remember painting houses with him
I loved when he picked me up from school
And he continued the mail route we me helping
We spend lots of time outside building or repairing things
I love those moments
It’s like nothing ever changes despite getting older
My Dad
I’ve always admired my dad
He never treated me like I was weak
From a young age he taught me to use a hammer
To help fix a car
Eventually swing an axe
I remember painting houses with him
I loved when he picked me up from school
And he continued the mail route we me helping
We spend lots of time outside building or repairing things
I love those moments
It’s like nothing ever changes despite getting older
29/30
The Every Day: Weaponizing the Wound
Pain is a merciless
taskmaster; dictating requirements
that I can barely wade through
each day.
My will is broken. A fragile
reed, snapped in two.
How does one’s spirit reconcile
this fate?
Hollow bones ground to dust,
sinew twisted- heart a’flutter.
I bow into you, my
weeping, deep skin.
Is this graceful enough?
Should I tiptoe the edge with
a brilliant flourish?
In a sheltered box, this mind
finds refuge from
the ravages of your destructive
hands.
Turning down the light-
dimming reality.
A steep climb with wounded
limbs, incapable of
making the full journey.
How much can one soul endure...
*NaPoWriMo2020*
71 unique words
101 total words
The Every Day: Weaponizing the Wound
Pain is a merciless
taskmaster; dictating requirements
that I can barely wade through
each day.
My will is broken. A fragile
reed, snapped in two.
How does one’s spirit reconcile
this fate?
Hollow bones ground to dust,
sinew twisted- heart a’flutter.
I bow into you, my
weeping, deep skin.
Is this graceful enough?
Should I tiptoe the edge with
a brilliant flourish?
In a sheltered box, this mind
finds refuge from
the ravages of your destructive
hands.
Turning down the light-
dimming reality.
A steep climb with wounded
limbs, incapable of
making the full journey.
How much can one soul endure...
*NaPoWriMo2020*
71 unique words
101 total words
Anonymous
29/30
[ NaPo 2020 ] In So Many Words
XXIX.
When utter clutter
and noise I've struggled with
becomes unbearable, I take shelter
from the psychological stormfront
in my metaphorical
never-to-be-finished
lodging;
muchly a work in progress
as I am
There will be days
when head aches for relief
as will to continue construction
is overly whelmed with
emotional override to plant
the White Flag of Surrender
in some figmented phantom's
ass, snap the pole off
and parade about waving it
in a tantrum of frustration
but I know better now—
the grip of old beliefs
have loosened; their invalidity
apparent with increased
infrequency
Instead, I'm at the ready
copper ground rod equipped
charging the maelstrom
from atop Mount Olympus
with thighs thundering;
a Zeus — lightning javelin in hand
hauled back to strike down
gloomy doomy skies
with spaciously roomy
sunny pleasant musings
of All That Is in this Universe
that brings me joy—
most notably her smiling
delighted as Calliope reading
this April kaleidoscope offering
in so many words ...
[ NaPo 2020 ] In So Many Words
XXIX.
When utter clutter
and noise I've struggled with
becomes unbearable, I take shelter
from the psychological stormfront
in my metaphorical
never-to-be-finished
lodging;
muchly a work in progress
as I am
There will be days
when head aches for relief
as will to continue construction
is overly whelmed with
emotional override to plant
the White Flag of Surrender
in some figmented phantom's
ass, snap the pole off
and parade about waving it
in a tantrum of frustration
but I know better now—
the grip of old beliefs
have loosened; their invalidity
apparent with increased
infrequency
Instead, I'm at the ready
copper ground rod equipped
charging the maelstrom
from atop Mount Olympus
with thighs thundering;
a Zeus — lightning javelin in hand
hauled back to strike down
gloomy doomy skies
with spaciously roomy
sunny pleasant musings
of All That Is in this Universe
that brings me joy—
most notably her smiling
delighted as Calliope reading
this April kaleidoscope offering
in so many words ...
#29
Don’t ask a hungry teen for poetry prompts
“Bananas,” he said
off the top of his head,
“They’re yummy, and radioactive,” he smiles.
Are you kidding? You brat!
What can I do with that??
But I let myself ponder bananas a while.
I could wax sentimental,
and write a parental
remembrance of babies just learning to eat.
Perhaps talk of sweetness,
that aching completeness
when finally a soul mate you happen to meet.
Or I could reminisce
‘bout that comforting kiss
when I tried (and I failed at) banana cream pie.
I could write a big rant
of a world that just can’t
seem to make do with what grows under our own sky.
Maybe I should get rude
and write something lewd
about peeling, and phallic analogies – fun!
But I think I’ve reached fifty -
Oh, isn’t that nifty!
I wrote of bananas – this poem is done!
Don’t ask a hungry teen for poetry prompts
“Bananas,” he said
off the top of his head,
“They’re yummy, and radioactive,” he smiles.
Are you kidding? You brat!
What can I do with that??
But I let myself ponder bananas a while.
I could wax sentimental,
and write a parental
remembrance of babies just learning to eat.
Perhaps talk of sweetness,
that aching completeness
when finally a soul mate you happen to meet.
Or I could reminisce
‘bout that comforting kiss
when I tried (and I failed at) banana cream pie.
I could write a big rant
of a world that just can’t
seem to make do with what grows under our own sky.
Maybe I should get rude
and write something lewd
about peeling, and phallic analogies – fun!
But I think I’ve reached fifty -
Oh, isn’t that nifty!
I wrote of bananas – this poem is done!
#29 of 30
Female Clasp
I don’t want a boyfriend
even though I’d be on the fringe
desiring the simple joys
beauty found when the same join
that attachment that most expect
masculine attached with the regret
for what’s missed on that path
normality denied in aftermath
when surety is expressed
to the object of love compressed
into a moment without a man
just hanging before a lifespan
I don’t want a boyfriend
this is my chance to ascend
to find the source of true romance
within the arms of a female clasp.
Female Clasp
I don’t want a boyfriend
even though I’d be on the fringe
desiring the simple joys
beauty found when the same join
that attachment that most expect
masculine attached with the regret
for what’s missed on that path
normality denied in aftermath
when surety is expressed
to the object of love compressed
into a moment without a man
just hanging before a lifespan
I don’t want a boyfriend
this is my chance to ascend
to find the source of true romance
within the arms of a female clasp.
