Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020 Competition

#30 of 30

Last Dance With April

Here we are!
 
Last stop for  
poets in training  
to flex April  
muse mojo
 
While this year
is my first
 
I’ve been told  
it’s my last
 
I chose a short
hot temper mate
who dislikes
how I poet
 
Unless today is
my day for  
an ultimatum  
 
All of us have to
face our fears
to write stuff down  
 
Big brother‘s pet shop
wants to tell you  
what to say and
who’s your shrink
 
Is it your last
dance with April
is it mine?
we decide
 
Let’s live free  
to write
another year

#30
Final Challenge

last poem of april

once again fifty unique words finely
crafted without redundancy

total equals fifty-one to seventy
for inclusion on the webpage
neither less nor more

recessional not depressional
perhaps slightly processional

a sight to behold sounds so sweet
broke the mold i”m told

fun while it lasted
fourth month competition

ends

© 2020 Raibeart Bruis

xxx of xxx

COMMENCEMENT

I told my parents
I was sad
I won’t be able to walk
At my college graduation

For 26 years of
So-called adult life
I had anticipated
That moment

My mother told me
Neither of them
Walked either
How did I not know that

Now I am planning
Our cap and gown orders
We will all walk together
In the meadow

I will toss
My academic freedom
Into the air with
My two greatest teachers

   +    +    +

59 of 75
NaPoWriMo 2020

30/30

Existence

a life spent, wasted
hustling
bustling
propelling
from one thing to the next
is there something more?
tell me there’s something more
than all the I can’t wait until’s
and the I’ll be happy when’s
what is the point, otherwise?
I am built of hunger
needy
greedy
voracious
for your in-between moments,
the ones you discard in haste
in your singularly-minded focus
on racing towards the end
where nothingness awaits;
I want the pure bliss
found in new growth
springing defiantly
from old stumps,
in lives you’ve nurtured
who find your embrace
so overwhelmingly safe
sleep overtakes them,
in the fluttering wings
of primal attraction
deep in your restless belly;
I want the pain of death
and all-consuming grief
to mark you indelibly,
the sharp and devastating  
yet temporary tragedy
of connections broken,
and the ache of loves
who set your entire world ablaze
once upon a time
only to flicker wildly
before being consumed by ash -
I want to share it with you
before endless night
and consciousness abandoned
becomes my fate

Unique Word Count: 125

30/30

My DU

On this fair stage our poets did tread
an ocean of thoughts behind each thread
Forums rich with challenge and praise
balanced crit is easily gauged.

So as you fill your profile in
a poets journey you begin
A slot you'll find to pop your muse
there's even space for you to be rude.

So drop them bombs, light up the page
turn it dark paint the colour of rage
Melt each image and break our hearts
Then write a limerick about smelly farts.

The SS Stanza is finally in dock
no more need to watch the clock
Thanks and praise to her captain and crew
without whom we'd all be screwed.

30 of 30

Strength of devotion..

It is a plain path on which you soar
Delivered not in the treachery of thought
But guided to glide on the instinct of notion
An undoubted motion upon open wings
spread wide in devotion
And even when you fail from your dive
You take to the wide open skies without a trace of despise written upon your eyes
Just the call of your soul as you return to the skies
To trust in the wind and the strength of your eyes..

30 of 30
Day 30: 30/04/2020, 19:10 GMT


No Poetry, No Regret; No fear!


Another year has gone by
and with it so many changes.

A month of poetry a piece of it,
and with the end
so many seem to turn to wistfulness
turning their theme to elegiac.

Yet it may be easy to choose melancholy
to turn back and watch the setting sunlight,
but do not despair
do not go gently into silence
closing the chapter on creation
as you close your creative notebook;
the story moves on yet.

It is not over,
a new day rises, a new era,
and with it new and familiar opportunities.

Whatever comes through the doors of tomorrow
will be faced with experience;
armoured in inspiration
another treasure to add to the inventory,
yet more words too absorb into your aura.

The plans for the future
lay upon the foundations of the past
and positioned by the present
a towering edifice
ever expanding and redesigning.

The path of the word goes ever on.


Unique words: 100

30 of 30


A suit to kill a bear


To beat back the bear
One must wear the fortress
Of outward iron maiden

A sneer and tortured intent
Spiking steely eyes
through triangulate of iris
Sticking through it
welling the blue
And the belladonna
Blooming through rage
like primal
feral crushing
It glows and brightens the circle
as if the whole sky were there

En masse
at large
The posse en route
Vigilante purpose violating all compact
Builds the refugee
And it's hovering camp

it growls
And grows
too large and uncompromising
Oh what nastiness,
she shows sharp teeth

To clamp and clang
Down on it
with the fury and force
Of the whole
Of the clan and brutal squeeze

It might crimp the fortress
And it's shiny style
Like the knights
In a state of madness
And their oddly worn smirks
Would leave them alone

 
Would they be fingerless
And folly their way back home
unable to remove themselves  
From the cloak  
And it's vice
now sweltering unimportant  
Enclosure

And leave them exposed by harsh  
Sound and sight  
And the eyes of others  
Never having roamed  
In their wilderness

such spectacle  
Would be ghastly
And devoutly remembered
attached in the permanent mind
And fearsome gesture there

gesture would fly
he would be unable to catch it
But he would reach

30 of 30

We Live this Life in Balance

And I held my palms out
to you -
an invitation to rest,
maybe forget,
the dirty sediment I had stirred
from the bottom of
your anger, clouding your eyes,
the beast I had summoned
before realizing
its full size.

I know the moment I pushed
too hard. Feel it like
a dull ache in my stomach.
I saw your loss of control -
bore it willingly,
even eagerly,
in my shaking hands,
heaving chest.

And I held my palms out
to you –
let you fall, exhausted,
against my chest.
Whispered “I’m here,”
until your eyes
saw me again.

Sorry having to double post again today, an very sick child took up all brain space so double submission to catch up on our final day

29/30

The Fight

How much weight can a beast of burden bare?
When the load keeps on piling up
How long can we survive life's tightening snare
It would be easier to just give up
Put one foot in front of the other they say
But your knees are buckling under the weight
The rest stop to brief, come to late
It would be easier to just give up

You never know what you can take. Till you're forced to take it
The surprise of a resilient heart
Though at times you feel you're not gona make it
Look how far you have come from the start
From the very first single step that you took
Woke the beast in your heart and it shook
The option of Failure from the book
Life roared and you roared louder

When the rain keeps on coming
And there's no where to turn
Think back on the lessons you've  learned
Do not back outta the fight


30/30

Moon to My Sun

A sudden impact.
A crash of will.
Destiny merging,
Time stands still.
The sensation drops,
My heart turns to flee,
Suffocation of senses,
Forgetting to breath!

Beauty personified!
With an Angel heart.
Her Warriors soul,
She is art.
Healing and stealing,
Nowhere to run,
Caught in your gravity,
Moon to your sun.

I missed you before I knew you,
Now I know you, I miss you more,
I dreamed of this Queen;
Who I now worship and adore.
Who is she? How did she..
Where do I begin?
Who is she? How did she..
Become everything?

#30 of 30

The End.
in the style of Winnie-ther-pooh
writing in sustained pseudo senryu style)
(c) Sweet Oblivion 30.4.20

Four weeks: a good spend?
Despite robes I had to rend
(I sourly contend);
Thirty days upend
dreams I can never suspend,
because they transcend;

I could almost vend
such ideas to worlds that lend
(those that I'd befriend);
Yes, I did intend
to very, merrily wend
ways through each cursed bend;

Words were bound to fend
for themselves, but they'd ascend
(if I would attend);
I did not misspend
energy that I'd expend
that felt like perpend;

I tried to pretend
I would seek not to descend
to thoughts that offend;
For that would, then, tend
to require me to amend -  
an unwanted trend;

I guess I must mend
doggerel I can't defend;
what can this portend?
I hope you'll re-lend
all your ears, as I propend,
(nonsensical) scend.

If not, I still send
greetings to poets: each friend
I gaily commend:
Some struggled; all penned
a poetic NaPo blend -
WELL DONE US! The end.

115 unique words
157 words

30/30

treinta

skirted, wind blown from afar
I was not to be late for the affair

bells struck midnight
and there were two left in in the square
twelve strokes to signal we were there

we circled right
looking for a place to disappear
tongues tendered to the herd
we kissed
my bones bent to your will

it was late
stars begged us to stay
the moon in her blushed
less than casual rose state
checking out as clouds ruffled by
we were high
and you, smokin'
like you always do

the time, the place, the memory
the face
fingers dancing as we knew the end
much more than the beginning

heartbeats pausing
pleasing, my ears
romance, encapsuled
in the singing
desire, a choir of one
and we won

thirty beats, pulsating
blood in-between the bludgeoning
a sense of belonging
longing for days to never come

nights slashing through the dark
butchering arms
grasping
charred, bodies
steam
whistling as she walks away

#30 of 30

rag tails

Smoking in the way and style of a cat tail
dangling delicate from a caravan.

Study-room mumbling in another tongue
accented in stucco and venetian heavy dialect.
its gypsum tinkers the atmosphere
and filtering system.

Why it is like this, rubs head too hard
drowsy in my hands, fingers too sticky

to open the mail under all the marmalade
and tangerine bowls
and I thought i had left some wipes on the desk.

53 unique words of 72 total

30/30

The Closing Pen

This month has consisted of tireless nights, ink stained hands
Even broken pencils and pens
I couldn’t see an end
Deep in my drawer, my closing pen

Challenges are unavoidable
The ones we choose are most enjoyable
I’m glad to have shared this one with all of you

Let us rise again, stronger than those broken writing utensils
May we seek new beginnings, and start new chapters
In the midst of troubling circumstances

And when we do, please don’t forget
To sign our work
With our closing pen