OFFICIAL DUP Glo/NaPoWriMo 2021 Competition
21/30
Prolif Writ
With versatility and fluidity I keep composing prolific rhymes
Objectively and unflinchingly giving you a piece of my mind
Rare and hard to find in these times are those composing unapologetically
And doing so with a flow meticulously calculated mathematically
With the synergy of chemistry and reality as seen through my eyes
That have seen many things in the ring but I still strive to survive
Seeking to thrive with butcher knives sticking out of my back
I may not have run the gambit but dammit, I'm no new jack
There's no lack of fallen foliage or knowledge in my cerebellum
I've climbed hills and conducted rock drills during the antebellum
So I'm no dumb dumb who can't run while chewing Bubble Yum
Multifaceted and motivated to write the wrongs 'til I succumb
Prolif Writ
With versatility and fluidity I keep composing prolific rhymes
Objectively and unflinchingly giving you a piece of my mind
Rare and hard to find in these times are those composing unapologetically
And doing so with a flow meticulously calculated mathematically
With the synergy of chemistry and reality as seen through my eyes
That have seen many things in the ring but I still strive to survive
Seeking to thrive with butcher knives sticking out of my back
I may not have run the gambit but dammit, I'm no new jack
There's no lack of fallen foliage or knowledge in my cerebellum
I've climbed hills and conducted rock drills during the antebellum
So I'm no dumb dumb who can't run while chewing Bubble Yum
Multifaceted and motivated to write the wrongs 'til I succumb
Greetings, Great Fellowshippers! Take a water break while Jaragorn consults the the map of Muddle Earth to ensure we're on the right track! If you don't have a map, then you have a 24 hour grace period to edit so that you can proceed into day 21!
Whoop whoop! T-Minus 9 days! Hang on and stay with us!
( 21/30 )
Satellite
[ . . . ]
Part III: Systems of Nomenclature
[ . . . ]
iv.
April— Super Planting Moon
( Tunica, Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana )
Older than dirt, this planting
practicality according to Lunar
phases; it's scrawled
as ancient history
across caverned walls
by civilizations of our ancestors
Nocturnally lit fields extend
daylight into midnight hours;
a tribe of moving silhouettes
backlit with nocturnal light
move in sync, bedding crops
which sustain their village
Moon gardening, generations
of lessons through labor;
the same waxing force
that lures turtles ashore
commands crops to grow forth;
the same waning force
pulls their roots deep
into the earth
And we, still today,
reap its fruitful harvest
. . .
Satellite
[ . . . ]
Part III: Systems of Nomenclature
[ . . . ]
iv.
April— Super Planting Moon
( Tunica, Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana )
Older than dirt, this planting
practicality according to Lunar
phases; it's scrawled
as ancient history
across caverned walls
by civilizations of our ancestors
Nocturnally lit fields extend
daylight into midnight hours;
a tribe of moving silhouettes
backlit with nocturnal light
move in sync, bedding crops
which sustain their village
Moon gardening, generations
of lessons through labor;
the same waxing force
that lures turtles ashore
commands crops to grow forth;
the same waning force
pulls their roots deep
into the earth
And we, still today,
reap its fruitful harvest
. . .
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
21/30
Not For A Gold Clock...
Do I want to be me.
Try as I might, I’d rather be anything but-
I’ve tried and failed.
Going so far as to live a poets life.
A tragic comedy.
The light that illuminates you
is never for me, but always for the stranger.
Seeking the leveled field;
where trust comes naturally,
is a misty concept that ascends
as quickly as it descends.
Always within grasp.
Forever just out of reach.
Oh! How I crave that comfort.
To look at you and know-
you are really there without
Prejudice.
(54 unique words)
Not For A Gold Clock...
Do I want to be me.
Try as I might, I’d rather be anything but-
I’ve tried and failed.
Going so far as to live a poets life.
A tragic comedy.
The light that illuminates you
is never for me, but always for the stranger.
Seeking the leveled field;
where trust comes naturally,
is a misty concept that ascends
as quickly as it descends.
Always within grasp.
Forever just out of reach.
Oh! How I crave that comfort.
To look at you and know-
you are really there without
Prejudice.
(54 unique words)
(21 of 30—Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo2021)
sonnets among my scribbles
hope
sonnet #21
a spark lights up the tunnel of my gloom
in this dark place, where daily i must grope,
each fleeting breath filled with a silent hope
that i shall find escape from certain doom.
tho by a thread i dangle in the mist,
as shadows snatch my waning ounce of strength,
i hold onto the endknot of life's length,
not kissing back where death's tongue has french-kissed.
throb after throb, my heart shall not play dead,
nor shall my prospects cease to reach for light.
beyond the mud, i keep the stars in sight;
beyond the grave, i cling to life instead.
the optimist shall die, who has no hope
to rectify his dreams, ere they elope.
© Copyright 2021 April 18
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
UWC = 86
21/30
WIND
“Derek Chauvin is guilty
Of being white”
Trolls the nutjob at Gab
Safely out of sight
A weak little exhale
With spittle and spite
From a bigtime investor
In God-given right
To crush a human
With dark skin’s windpipe
Under your knee
With impish delight
Thin blue lines of blood
For oxygen fight
We will not go silent
Into that good night!
WIND
“Derek Chauvin is guilty
Of being white”
Trolls the nutjob at Gab
Safely out of sight
A weak little exhale
With spittle and spite
From a bigtime investor
In God-given right
To crush a human
With dark skin’s windpipe
Under your knee
With impish delight
Thin blue lines of blood
For oxygen fight
We will not go silent
Into that good night!
21/30
Thirty-Days Of...
Migranes and insomnia
Mental euphoria
Stomach aches
Poetry cakes
Mind explosions
Flustered emotions
Finger cramps
Lighted lamps
Annoying confusion
Napo delusion
Writing on command
Self reprimand
Writer’s block
Eyes on clock
New inspiration
Steady irritation
Good poetry
Bad poetry
Frustration at its best
Halfway dressed
Sleeping with letters
Poetry collectors
Burning eyes
Sobbing cries
Insanity plea
Poetry where for art thee
Writing early
Gripping firmly
Writing noon
Watch a cartoon
Writing late
Sleep deprivate
Write at work
Coffee twerk
Write at school
Writings cool
Scratching head
Attention dead
Read some books
Give dirty looks
Give up now
Must keep this vow
Give up later
April hater
Devil on left
Thinking theft
Angel on right
Subconscious bite
Space explorer
Trophy hoarder
Thirty-days of horror
Thirty-Days Of...
Migranes and insomnia
Mental euphoria
Stomach aches
Poetry cakes
Mind explosions
Flustered emotions
Finger cramps
Lighted lamps
Annoying confusion
Napo delusion
Writing on command
Self reprimand
Writer’s block
Eyes on clock
New inspiration
Steady irritation
Good poetry
Bad poetry
Frustration at its best
Halfway dressed
Sleeping with letters
Poetry collectors
Burning eyes
Sobbing cries
Insanity plea
Poetry where for art thee
Writing early
Gripping firmly
Writing noon
Watch a cartoon
Writing late
Sleep deprivate
Write at work
Coffee twerk
Write at school
Writings cool
Scratching head
Attention dead
Read some books
Give dirty looks
Give up now
Must keep this vow
Give up later
April hater
Devil on left
Thinking theft
Angel on right
Subconscious bite
Space explorer
Trophy hoarder
Thirty-days of horror
#21. 21st April.
Miscounsel of Elrond
"One ring to rue them all,
one ring to fine them,
one ring to bling them all,
and in the darkness blind them."
So were the words of Ganondorf
wizened and wise in many ways
but he is blind and senile
way past youth and his better days.
Miscounsel words to the council
to the varied assembled races there
who now abstain from gold and wealth
forgo all fashion, they did swear.
Yet without the need for money
the walls broke of doubt or mistrust
they learnt to share with each other
forming an alliance as needs must.
For when the Eye looked on them
It faltered, in its confusion,
at the sight of diversity
of the races mixing in fusion.
They were not one, but now; many
evil thwarted by a lasting light:
lamps, beacons, candles, bulbs, torches, fire
and together banishing night.
Illuminated austerity
shone forth from all the free fair folk
all united against the dark lands
and because Ganondorf misspoke!
(Unique words: 112.)
Miscounsel of Elrond
"One ring to rue them all,
one ring to fine them,
one ring to bling them all,
and in the darkness blind them."
So were the words of Ganondorf
wizened and wise in many ways
but he is blind and senile
way past youth and his better days.
Miscounsel words to the council
to the varied assembled races there
who now abstain from gold and wealth
forgo all fashion, they did swear.
Yet without the need for money
the walls broke of doubt or mistrust
they learnt to share with each other
forming an alliance as needs must.
For when the Eye looked on them
It faltered, in its confusion,
at the sight of diversity
of the races mixing in fusion.
They were not one, but now; many
evil thwarted by a lasting light:
lamps, beacons, candles, bulbs, torches, fire
and together banishing night.
Illuminated austerity
shone forth from all the free fair folk
all united against the dark lands
and because Ganondorf misspoke!
(Unique words: 112.)
21/30
Tuesdays gulls
At dawn from cliff or rocky crag
from its roost set a course for that invade
For they had seen the night before
Dustbins placed outside each door
Ahavati placed her black bags
unprotected from the cats and rats
and its rotting, decomposing content
attracted every sort of strange rodent
The garbage men in lorries and trucks
in bright orange uniforms and protective gloves
set out at dawn with a grimace and yawn
but if you look to the sky they are not alone
For in the air following in their wake
a flock of shite-hawks in an exited state
the pickings from plates, each bin that awaits
a Gourmet of food we threw out as waste
That "just eat app" of treats full of fat
A "Deliveroo" of most tasty snacks
and when there was quiet and time to digest
they shat on the windows and caused such a mess
the neighbours came out to feed their pets
but not cats and dogs
but gulls perched on the roofs pointed crest
those screeching white birds we have learned to detest
Tuesdays gulls
At dawn from cliff or rocky crag
from its roost set a course for that invade
For they had seen the night before
Dustbins placed outside each door
Ahavati placed her black bags
unprotected from the cats and rats
and its rotting, decomposing content
attracted every sort of strange rodent
The garbage men in lorries and trucks
in bright orange uniforms and protective gloves
set out at dawn with a grimace and yawn
but if you look to the sky they are not alone
For in the air following in their wake
a flock of shite-hawks in an exited state
the pickings from plates, each bin that awaits
a Gourmet of food we threw out as waste
That "just eat app" of treats full of fat
A "Deliveroo" of most tasty snacks
and when there was quiet and time to digest
they shat on the windows and caused such a mess
the neighbours came out to feed their pets
but not cats and dogs
but gulls perched on the roofs pointed crest
those screeching white birds we have learned to detest
21/30
Ode To Night XI
Reveal me, O wisest night,
for I am hardly mad within your sight
I release all untruths to your enveloping
array, and in your lunar glow I play.
After all the imponderable things melt away,
I remain unburdened by my leaden ways
of daily thought and reason in my gaze.
And in some blurry haze which hardly glows
as vivid solar streams would do in yellow or
blue, know I alight along your boundaries
and seek not to pass them or be freed.
Reveal me, O wisest night.
65 unique words
Ode To Night XI
Reveal me, O wisest night,
for I am hardly mad within your sight
I release all untruths to your enveloping
array, and in your lunar glow I play.
After all the imponderable things melt away,
I remain unburdened by my leaden ways
of daily thought and reason in my gaze.
And in some blurry haze which hardly glows
as vivid solar streams would do in yellow or
blue, know I alight along your boundaries
and seek not to pass them or be freed.
Reveal me, O wisest night.
65 unique words
21/30
(Neuro)transmitting Joy
Call it visual perception, or luminosity:
the radiant color of joy causes a deep
welling in my chest.
No explanation for why I seemingly stop
breathing: oxygen is not needed.
Warm floods wash between veins, bringing
light up through layers now alive and vibrating.
Nothing else competes with this feeling.
(Neuro)transmitting Joy
Call it visual perception, or luminosity:
the radiant color of joy causes a deep
welling in my chest.
No explanation for why I seemingly stop
breathing: oxygen is not needed.
Warm floods wash between veins, bringing
light up through layers now alive and vibrating.
Nothing else competes with this feeling.
21 of 30
Upon the hold of night.
An interloping weight is cast upon my dreams,
As I wake, slowly to the day,
The waiting light,
Betraying the darkness in my eyes,
Raises beckoning glimpses between shadows,
Leaving night to bare it's back on dawn.
To bare it's back,
On the discordant noises and punctuated, bird song,
The distinctive,
Inevitable and somehow;
This moment belongs,
Verged in the thicket and throng.
Underlying the winds voice
A howling calls to the spirit within;
This day is marked,
Marked in a way,
I have not yet found words to say.
So I linger, longer..
Holding fast to the remnants of fading world's,
Calling to the darkness in my eyes.
Before stepping on the obscure greys,
Through the haze,
Of pastel hues,
Forthright,
Into the blistering portraits of light.
Who's thresholds now cling,
Who's thresholds now flare,
Burning,
Upon the hold of night.
Upon the hold of night.
An interloping weight is cast upon my dreams,
As I wake, slowly to the day,
The waiting light,
Betraying the darkness in my eyes,
Raises beckoning glimpses between shadows,
Leaving night to bare it's back on dawn.
To bare it's back,
On the discordant noises and punctuated, bird song,
The distinctive,
Inevitable and somehow;
This moment belongs,
Verged in the thicket and throng.
Underlying the winds voice
A howling calls to the spirit within;
This day is marked,
Marked in a way,
I have not yet found words to say.
So I linger, longer..
Holding fast to the remnants of fading world's,
Calling to the darkness in my eyes.
Before stepping on the obscure greys,
Through the haze,
Of pastel hues,
Forthright,
Into the blistering portraits of light.
Who's thresholds now cling,
Who's thresholds now flare,
Burning,
Upon the hold of night.
21/30
Interview
I have an interview
For a job
Tomorrow
I am so terrified
I want this job so bad
And I don’t want to mess this up
I have literally wanted to work here
For as long as I can remember
It’s a job that I see as fun
Not just work
I am so nervous
I don’t want to say the wrong thing
I think I’ll be fine
I’m pretty perfect for the job
And I know they always need more people to work
But I am still scared
Everyone is telling me that I’ll do great
But the anxiety in the back of my head is saying
“Don’t fuck it up”
I don’t really have any other options
If I don’t get it
And I desperately need the money
I’m trying to think positive
I got the email today
And the interview is tomorrow
It’s all happening so fast
Interview
I have an interview
For a job
Tomorrow
I am so terrified
I want this job so bad
And I don’t want to mess this up
I have literally wanted to work here
For as long as I can remember
It’s a job that I see as fun
Not just work
I am so nervous
I don’t want to say the wrong thing
I think I’ll be fine
I’m pretty perfect for the job
And I know they always need more people to work
But I am still scared
Everyone is telling me that I’ll do great
But the anxiety in the back of my head is saying
“Don’t fuck it up”
I don’t really have any other options
If I don’t get it
And I desperately need the money
I’m trying to think positive
I got the email today
And the interview is tomorrow
It’s all happening so fast
21/30
Dear Savior,
I come to you:
my Bread and Wine,
the rock and dirt of these hills,
the oxygen in the air.
Save me.
I’m choking on my roots.
The lives I brought forth,
are killing me. The desperate need
to plant here, was maybe
a mistake.
(Is this postpartum depression?
eleven years after the fact?
Or should I just keep praying?)
I can already feel judgement,
from you, Bread and Wine.
Those lives, given to my protection,
what if I fail? Maybe I already have.
There is no sure footing in this place,
this life I’m surviving.
This place I call home.
And you, the promised one,
the one who heals all hurts,
blesses the meek,
the one who draws close to
broken hearts
where are you?
Save me.
No.
Save them,
the breath in my lungs
and the roots that keep me
firmly tethered to this good earth.
Just keep their precious
hearts safe.
Tuck them to your side.
Dear Savior,
I come to you:
my Bread and Wine,
the rock and dirt of these hills,
the oxygen in the air.
Save me.
I’m choking on my roots.
The lives I brought forth,
are killing me. The desperate need
to plant here, was maybe
a mistake.
(Is this postpartum depression?
eleven years after the fact?
Or should I just keep praying?)
I can already feel judgement,
from you, Bread and Wine.
Those lives, given to my protection,
what if I fail? Maybe I already have.
There is no sure footing in this place,
this life I’m surviving.
This place I call home.
And you, the promised one,
the one who heals all hurts,
blesses the meek,
the one who draws close to
broken hearts
where are you?
Save me.
No.
Save them,
the breath in my lungs
and the roots that keep me
firmly tethered to this good earth.
Just keep their precious
hearts safe.
Tuck them to your side.
