Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020 Competition

#05 of 30

Dreamt Proxies

The dreams allow for a dance
while in waking life here is no chance
desire asks for this exchange
when connection is estranged

arm in arm in fantasy
paling against reality
this is the best that life permits
when distance is normality

the desire to at last connect
bleeding over to vision’s quest
behind closed lids the dance goes on
absent venues of self’s choice

those relations pursued first hand
have been replaced by revenants
sad whispers of what should be
six feet asking for dreamt proxies.

5 of 30.
Day 5: 05/04/2020

The Hunt goes ever on


The Hunt goes ever on
A whole World
is barely able to contain the Monsters
as their ferocity
is matched only by their diversity,
through sweltering heat
beyond icicle peaks
over decayed remains
beneath misty plains,
the Hunter's duty is to face these Monsters
and use whatever means necessary
whether to kill or capture the creatures
although a stronger foe
will always be a few steps beyond
so the journey
and Hunt goes ever on.


Unique words: 57.

5 of 30

Pursuit of a thread..

It was within the strength of a step,
The laying of its laid tread,
That we did head in the pursuit of a thread.

That we did head in the pursuit of a thread,
Upon the blanket of a night and it's endless sight,
Without a care of its toll upon our soul
Nor caring for the absence of light,
Just the actions that felt right.

That by the course in which we did head,
Led by the the leading of our thread,
That we did find the presence of our mind,
In the blanket of night, our fanciful flight from our endless fight
That we did step upon the thread of an ageless aged old song
Which reft our life of many wronged wrongs.

Giving birth to a breath that breathed a breath of exceeding breadth,
And that, that breath of breadth did wrap itself around our thread,
In an unexpected, unintended yet, undeniable tread,
To grapple our minds and our likened kinds with the call of the thread.

A calling song called to every word found,
That our bleeding hearts had bound to every heard sound,
That the tread of our thread should be found to be bound,
Upon a blanket of night and its endless sight.

To a directed direction of untold perfection
And the gift of a light to aid our plight,
To illuminate and make light,
The weight of our endless night.

To make night of all those countless fan fared fires we've bared,
To make light of all those desires we’ve shared,
To make right of all the untold treads of steps we’ve laid
To make flight from the breath of our song and write, from the pursuit of a thread.

scribbles in a poet's diary #05

(05 of 30—Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo2020)

05 of 30

scribble #05:  each time i touch odessa’s face

aprilis
the bud burst of fresh blooms
spill forth their sweet perfumes
each time I touch odessa's face
she dares my lips embrace
with her kiss
flute tunes thrill her blest heart
whose strains with joy impart
to every bird on every branch
orchestral elegance
kinesis

nocturns on fresh night breeze
her soul and mine doth please

© Copyright 2020 April 05
by Clyve A. Bowen♫

________________________________
NaPoWriMo2020—April 05
Total Words 57
Unique Words 51

5/30

Too Much is Enough

Long held responsible for things so out of my control
You can’t see my anxiety, but this all takes a toll
As I’m poked and prodded to stretch myself all the farther
And I can’t say no but I’m not looking to be a martyr
How can I continue when I’ve nothing left to give?
When life is all about taking, on what shall I live?
These responsibilities unknowingly, unwantedly placed on my shoulders
But I am not Atlas, and cannot handle the planet much less these boulders
I stumble in my steps, though I know it could be worse
This isn’t even a mighty complaint, much less a curse
But I can feel the resentment rise, as I internally rage and fight
And though I try and keep it at bay with all of my might
I am only human and as such cannot be easily swayed
Though with each passing day, I am more and more dismayed
I know if I were to cut off this support all at one time
Much less being there for everyone and less being fine
I know people would turn against me and think me some witch
That if I couldn’t care about them the I wasn’t worth an inch
In their hearts but sometimes this feeling is so strong
That I must let them learn for themselves and can no longer go along
With the status quo as it were and must go it alone
To find myself, to mend myself, and to finally heal my own


Unique words: 150

5 of 30

The blessed assent of Liesel Priest

And it came down like madness
The water over her naked self
Spilling over budding dreads of dirty
Neglect
Where it pooled in oil and the dust of long hellish roads
This sacrament refused to mix readily or give easy absolution
For the residuals of long journeyed sins
Hard living had taken its toll
And close to completely
What was left of her mind, muddy
"Of cloudless climbs and starry skies"
She had once known all the words
By heart and mirrored affinity
But sometime in that great distance
Of then to now
It had all become very, very
Ugly
So now, there stood
A shivering and hunched Liesel Priest
Wearing nothing but goosefleshed compromise
In durressed state of highly undressed
Urges, the natural kind
Of flight or flight, quite respectable and by right
Well all those fine urges, they flung like daggers
Until, almighty at last
Her head rocked back and sunk into wet soapy shoulders
Her jaw slacked slightly open
And she let the ministering of scalding water pass her lips
Until she rocked compliance
And uttered "forgive me father, how I've sinned."

#5 of 30
Confusion
Confusion
The one feeling I hate the most
I like logical answers
So being confused hurts me more than pain
Struggling with my sexuality
Is something I never saw coming
I live in a small community
Were everyone is straight
And some people are not kind towards those who are not
It never occurred to me
That I could be different
But here I am
Realizing I’m pansexual

Part of me wants to deny it
To not tell anyone
Hide it away
Only show attraction to males

The other part thinks that it's ridiculous
I shouldn’t care what others think
My sexuality has nothing to do with them
I am me

I have so many questions
And no one to go to
I don’t know how to deal with this
There is no lgbtq+ community here
I don’t know what to do

#5 of 30


Nostalghia

Lay them still,
lay the letters on the sill,
just as before;
before they are handled
to pulp and are lost again.


The community still stands,
it fights and it bleeds,
we stain all the lands.
indivisible we forgivable
are mostly whole,
we are often almost whole.


Bleach the paper clean,
for there is holly in the i,
and sheep’s wool in the
dye.

These mortal de-sculptures,
skinned and refilmed
the flutter of wings
the security lights, die
when we're still.



Pheasants laugh,
like when a laugh breaks down.
dressing the wounds,
to lift off to high
in hand and cry…



…that that was the letter,
where someone had left me.

65 unique words of 112 total

#5
White Pine

I climb high in the branches today.
A squirrel registers his complaint,
from a socially safe distance.
Cloud-wisps echo the curve
of soft needles that tickle my face
like mother’s hair.
I am cradled in the sunshine,
cheek against the coolness of tree skin.

The wind sounds different in the top of a pine -
More intimate, like breath through lips.
I am one with the treetop dwellers as they
chatter and hop
branch to twig,
And I sit and
simply
listen.

I’ve always wondered, do my prayers count
if they have no words,
if they don’t start with “Dear God” or end with “Amen”?
Scattered anxious images,
fleeting puffs of gratitude,
floating auras of beloved souls
lifted up to the divine who knows
better than I
what they need…

With my back against the trunk, I close my eyes and
feel the movement of the earth

I am falling
into grace

5/30

Becoming Words (III)

And more words were generated to
take their place; there was no stoppage
to their rule.        
I gave them dominion over prayer, over belief,
I let them spin and scatter to
every corner of my mind until they
found purpose;
they began to know existence
in detecting the faint heartbeat
of their own fervor.
Their vibrations became meaning,
their configurations a story.
What I envisioned, they became,
even in unknowing of what they could become
and what secrets they could reveal.
To this end, I gave them life and they found
and wrote their own story's ending.

5/30

New World Harmony

The cities are silent and the streets are empty,
A plague among us is bringing many casualties
An unseen malady is taking the planet by storm
But our haven is being at home with our families

History seems to repeat itself over and over again
But mankind has survived through wars and disease
There’s always a glimmer of hope, this is not the end
We should have faith so we can put our minds at ease

These are the days we’ll remember in our old age
We’ll honor and mourn and learn how to deal
Because in times of need kindness will triumph
Compassion and love will help everyone heal

I believe there’s light at the end of this tunnel
The human race is in a dark place though we can’t see
But I know the future will hold something beautiful
And may the New World will bring us some harmony


#NaPoWriMo2020
151 words
105 unique

v of xxx

MYSTICAL OUTLINE

I remember when you sang
that song about today

you described our predicament
and our struggle against insignificance

outlining mystically
the hero’s journey we must make

with such clarity it was as if
it had already happened

and because of that it felt familiar
giving us the courage to know

we could do that which is demanded
of us by this moment

   +    +    +

51 unique words
Out of 62 total
NaPoWriMo 2020

5/30

Detritus

walking across a field
leading me nowhere
except further
into isolation,
my foot met stone
in a hostile
confrontation;
it was fairly violent
considering
they had only just
been introduced,
there certainly
had not been time
to build such resentment
for one another

an unfortunate event
given I had not
quite planned
the long journey back
with stubbed toes;
sinking into crisp grass
trying it’s best to steal
the green of Spring
from Winter’s idling grasp,
I remove my boot
and thick wool sock,
giving my digits a chance
to air their grievances;
the cool wind
stealing my curses
as they are birthed loudly
from pinched lips  

the rock, so full of angst
utterly unremarkable -
it’s edges, once sharp
worn smooth
by the tumbling forward
of time across its face -
ironic, that;
I give my curiosity invitation,
patting the waking earth
next to me
and together, we wonder
at the large arrogance
of this small thing;
had it’s nondescript identity
refused to be buried
because it had once kissed
the lush, full moon
from snow-topped peaks
of the mighty mountain?
or had it watched
from it’s watery balcony
as the leviathan played
under oceans
of midnight blue?

staring back in silence,
it becomes clear
I’ll receive no accounting
of its unpleasant attitude
towards my person -
whatever the reasons
for its rude how-do-you-do,
I’ll be no wiser today;
growing cold in the setting sun
I return my sock and shoe
to their rightful place
over shouting
that finally quiets
to low grumbling
and gingerly begin
towards home

Unique Word Count:  183

5 of 30

Spaghetti

You are a simple man.

Actually, that is as
untrue
as two plus two
equals seventeen.

You are spirals of
green and red light
circling this life of ours
in unmeasured
chaos.

Your mind an untapped
mine
of wonder
and wander
and ideas as
infinite
as stars.

Or at least that’s how
I imagine you.

Your ability to tell me
what bubbles and
transforms in your mind
is yet limited.
   
But you know these words:
Spaghetti, please.

And I marvel at your lack of
mispronunciation.
Ever kid I know says
“pasketti”
at some point.

But not you.

Because you are not
every kid.

And thankfully, you don’t require
any culinary skills.
You have a favorite jar sauce
and boxed noodles.
You don’t have to have ground hamburger,
but you relish it
when we have it.

So
you are simple in
one tiny speck of your
beautiful soul.

And it makes this mama’s
heart swell to
oblige you.  

5 of 30

To Let my Dark Consume ‘til New Light Comes
(Sestina)

Just close it out and sit in lonely dark,
No world, no talk, just me alone and still.
To let my dark consume ‘til new light comes
That rises from my soul ‘til all reveal:
New Mexico in desert sunset rain,
The passing semi’s flash that points to you,

My compass, Like the ancient stars, to you.
Like sailors have on oceans’ roiling dark,
Pursued the shining North through typhoon rain,
Through hurricane and doldrums’ haunting still.
‘Til finally that shining port reveal,
That ever end, where final landing comes.

But deeper visions fade and other comes,
That deeper vision found in Wilding you,
With subtle words and deeper thoughts reveal,
The tiger and the cat that prowl the dark,
That seek the rising storm, the breathless still,
Which hovered in our thoughts like coming rain.

And how our poets’ souls converge like rain
From merging storms that break like winter comes.
That shake the very core and then lie still.
But ever after find my way to you,
In subtle shapes and lines that light the dark,
And wait for summoned arrow its reveal.

How close our wanting hearts their songs reveal,
In flows that mirror close the islands’ rain
That fills with gendered love the grotto’s dark,
And breaks in rhythmic waves before dawn comes,
Where I am finally joined in throws with you,
The echoes of our cant are sounding still.

How sweet the pageant moves in day break’s still
The pictures in our minds, our wants’ reveal,
The visions there I find unbridled you,
A you I find that’s bathed in passion’s rain,
Who longs to find me as the morning comes,
But then I’m back in desert’s coming dark,

New Mexico, in still pursuing rain,
A heart that calls for you, whatever comes,
A light’s reveal that drives away the dark.

163 unique words