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Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020 Competition

DaisyGrace
Dangerous Mind
United States 17awards
Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 1337

4 of 30

Chocolate Chip Cookies

It’s been a
long standing rule:
if you ask for it with a
complete sentence,
mama’s not gonna say
no.

Of course,
this all started before
words were your language.
Back when I prayed for
any sound
that could be construed as
a word.

So if you said
“can I have chips?”
I always said yes.
Or if you said
“can I have Happy Meal?”
I found myself in a drive through.

The rule has slightly changed
now that words are your language.
I can’t give in to every whim.
Especially since you discovered google.

But I can give in to
“Can we make chocolate chip cookies?”
I marvel as you read the ingredients
from my well-loved cookbook.
Saying each one around a face
changing smile.

You’re getting good at leveling
measuring cups and
using a spatula.
Solid life skills that everyone
should know.

Sometimes I think I’m failing
as your mama.
But at least I know
that you will know
how to make a spectacular
chocolate chip cookie.

And that,
my love,
will take you places.

brokentitanium
k.
Tyrant of Words
Canada 10awards
Joined 18th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 1122

#4
Hypochondriac

I feel a tickle in my chest –
Oh no! I better take a rest.
My stomach feels a little sore;
I better have one cookie more.
Is that a sniffle? Oh dear me!
It’s time to lie and watch TV.
A funny ache down in my back -
Best watch a movie, eat a snack.
Now, what if my sore knee’s a sign?!
I think I’ll sit here ‘til I’m fine.
My lips are chapped! I must be doomed!
Best stay here safely in my room.
I’m lonely and my hands are raw.
My plan for safety has one flaw;
If covid doesn’t come to kill,
Imagination surely will!

rowantree
Thought Provoker
United States 7awards
Joined 5th Aug 2015
Forum Posts: 217

4 / 30

mom tells me about ghosts and teaches me backgammon

The drizzle drowned the silence
that had been suffocating the day

and the night tucked the suburb
into a bed of deep gray

and I came outside
where she was smoking,
chilling,
worried like the whole world
but solid as the patio,
shining on and on,
burning bush to me -
a miracle
holding me close

She asked me what was wrong.
Still calm.
And I spoke through a gentle weep
harmonizing with the tired rain -
and she listened like God
made me believe, though,
that everything would really be okay.

I could always trust her to catch me - to tell
when I'm hungry for touch, and I realize
she is amazing, but still
I doubt I'll ever comprehend
just how lucky I am
to have a mother that not only notices
but puts out her cigarette,
comes and holds me
and lets me listen to her heartbeat
for a good long while
while we talk about real things.

You know there are things in this house, she says.
I do.
We're not scared -
we're amused.
And there is some more
of us quiet, and close
while the rain whispers
everything out loud
and we both hear it
speaking the facts of love
between us two.

all this,
and a quiet I've deeply,
deeply needed
before she stands us up, leads us back
and I learn to play backgammon
in the yellow warm of the house.

The thought crosses my mind
far too often
that unless I'm kicked out of this heaven of a life
early
I'll have to watch her die
and hold that goodbye
for forever.

II can pay little mind -
I do believe
her miss-nothing eyes,
the paint on her hands
and the glitter in her eyes
while she wins

are hot enough things
to burn her candles in my heart
for exactly that -
forever.

da_poetic-edifier
Damon
Dangerous Mind
United States 12awards
Joined 11th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 251

(5/30)

Pools of Misinformation

They gave us tools to become credulous fools
As we deep dive into misinformation pools
Consuming news & not knowing what is true
Cause now everyone's their own news crew

Coveting views & likes despite what's right
Many like to see warring sides bicker & fight
Adding delight to their life at others expense
Never with the intent to grant recompense

Misfitpoet89
Twisted Dreamer
United States 4awards
Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 151

4/30

The COVID Curse

I listen and I wait to once again hear your voice
In person and not just over the phone like now, we have no choice
Not so far off but so very far away
I can’t wait to see the light, the dawning of a new day
When we shall re-emerge from our comfortable homes
Once again over the land we shall roam
Till I can find myself some comfort t on the warmth of your arms
Losing ourselves to each other and our worthwhile charms
Oh i cannot wait for the day when this curse will set us free
But until then I will try my best to wait patiently



Unique words: 77

yelluw_always
Haley Quaquaversal
Fire of Insight
United States 5awards
Joined 24th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 141

I am double posting today due to medical reasons.

3/30

I want to say

I want to say
trip the
light
fantastic but it means to
dance

this is not what I want to say here
                       
I want to sign a
requiem
for a
dream but that’s
a movie
for tripping

it’s telling me all kinds of
things
it’s gesturing me

to

conduct
compose
di-
a -
gram

a
mirror


of
my own
light
it’s telling
me to
own lines
and let’s not
drown
in the mirror
of others

I’m making
my tune
my
own
I’m a
soft serve
of
my own flavors

Aranofsky
cut the Fibonacci
in two

one for me
and one for all of you
we
trip
into stars
never
mind
the made
gods
melting in
our  
endless hands  
omega mouths
the cups that have made

73/126 words

SweetOblivion
Tyrant of Words
49awards
Joined 6th July 2014
Forum Posts: 72

5/30

Dusty Dreams Drift

(c) Sweet Oblivion 5/4/20

I drift from room to room, suppressing thoughts;
Then trace my fingers on the mantelpiece;
They gather dust. I wonder if these shorts
Are clothing you'd approve of; I will cease
My wicked teasing when you call on skype;
I'll revert to apparel, you prefer
When you are back and things are once more right;
And we are not self-isolating; stir
My thoughts with reveries of how we spent
The winter months together; should you wish
To live them all anew with me, content
With sweet serenity, the loving bliss
And all we'd ever wish for, then we'll sift  
Through dusty dreams and memories that drift...

79 unique words
107 words

yelluw_always
Haley Quaquaversal
Fire of Insight
United States 5awards
Joined 24th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 141

I am double posting due to medical reasons

4/30

I rub upon your

I rub upon your
temples
coarse
finger grains
fine
the microcosm
the mica
the pumice
of breaking apart
i could break it down
phonetically
with eye
naked
exfoliated

but the ocular
that’s learned how things occur
the abstract
mold concept
superimposed
rods
cones
making wind
stone
my words
pottery
they are the clay
living poetry
ephemeral dirt
in oyster shells

54/59 words

poet Anonymous

<< post removed >>
LokiOfLiterati
Dangerous Mind
United States 11awards
Joined 27th June 2012
Forum Posts: 41

4/30

Calculate the route of alphabet soup

What if we could only write in soft sand? / Get right with the land / Only in sight for a brief span / No more looseleaf / Just sleight of hand / Attentive second sight / No second chance / Testament paid every price / Sentence medicine playing against type / Fighting to keep every letter / Weather reaps like “Yeah, whatever” / My readers know me better / Than any former unbelievers / Blind spots / Those time slots who cheated my meter / Park and bleed / Always needing shit / Wrong fit force-conjoined / Emotional bitcoin / Ricochet / Lipstick and lace / Grace in decorum / Even during razor forums / Burnt and torn, reformed / More forged, more slag pouring / Some other shit that rhymes with orange / Taste of AU ore within / Embrace the morning or don’t / No warnings up front / I was born to move and escape / To lose Fate to old days / Lucid bold plays / Fountain of tomato spray / Around the maypole / ‘Round here we pace and flow / So go count to potato

Tallen
earth_empath
Tyrant of Words
32awards
Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 2264

(five of 30 - Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020)
Dough Puncher

‘tis a well known fact
i am NOT-A-BAKER!!
That said, i hold soooo
many thoughts and ideas
simmering
baking
marinating. . .

i know if i rush this
the cookies might
break You

gathered the stuff
the stuff,  stuff is made of
flour’d the meaty parts
dipped in slick olive oil
with a want to help
gingerly placed
each portion
upon the sheet of hot
returns

just enough yeast
to cause the weak
to rise & the strong
to dissolve
a fermentation
of excuses
and accountability!

and if I knew what
the hell the recipe
is to bind,
combine all the
ingredients for a
type of kind(ness)
and love………..

i would be creating
more ripples in my pond
& my pond would
(become)
a sea / see.


____________________
#NaPoWriMo2020
125 words
88 unique
re:  DaisyGrace

EdibleWords
Tyrant of Words
8awards
Joined 7th Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 2993

Day #5 of 30

Oops... My Poor Husband....

ambition to write  
the first comedy
unsupported
highly resented

still challenges
my relationship

I de-stress by writing
and creating

Meanwhile my love
...cannot

But he is
massively creative

My "up" is
his "down"....
point is...

situation really
blew up when
our son

(we have ten
from a twenty year marriage!)

was groomed and
kidnapped over the last
4 years

Pig in a Web
is comedic catharsis

for a woman
in the closet

while her family
was in crisis...

and was
released in
great haste.

So my head was full
of secrets...

that somehow
were coming out
in hilarious disguise

The book is ..."South Park"
had a baby
with Charlottes Web....
kinda.

Now

I'm out of the closet
about things
(I'm not gay... btw)


and you know
a lot more...

Thetravelingfairy
Fire of Insight
United States 14awards
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 252

5/30

Rollercoaster

Sometimes I feel like a ferris wheel
Never slowing, never stopping
Just moving til I’m motion sick
High above the world, a view to be captured
Short lived as I plummet below
To a darker place I also know
It’s a rollercoaster that I’m stuck inside
A prisoner of my turbulent mind
So moody, unpredictable
I hope you know I can’t control my weather
Pills are useless, sometimes
They slow the roll of the tracks
I wish they’d never go
If only I could jump out and walk
Like the rest of the visitors of the world
Maybe I’d watch the wheel from afar
Or find some other line
But I’m a spectacle
Riding a nightmare
Known as my head
Waiting to break down

poet Anonymous

5/30

Scoff At Poetry, At Your Own Peril
somewhere in the midst of night
the motion of emotions set to words is cracking through
the redundancy of the working class
where the cold comfort of the bottom of a glass
is a mother's hug
a lover's kiss
a dream fractionated into a nightmare that folds
like a paper people chain in a linked reality
that's doused in metho' and millimetres from a lit match
because the only time a heart is on fire is in the burn of spirits
at 2am when legs are rudderless bastards
and I can only lisp a shattered fury into the ether

there's a rage of frantic burning and vivid brush strokes
somewhere the broken, the meek the faint of heart
can see the fallen beauty amidst the brambles
built not on thoughtless habit of day to day grind
but built anew from upon a canvas

I can see the composition of a beautiful symphony
in the curves of woman
who wears a sultry smile above her bare chest
and I riddle a rhyming rhythm

her mascara trickles
her gloaming eyes cut me deeper
than all the lovers I can no longer hold

poet Anonymous

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