2024 Official DUP NaPoWriMo Challenge

2/10

Amiss

I opened up to you like
A barn door in the first
Of Spring
Exposed my fresh timber
To the cold gusts of your speech
You promised light
When all you ever brought
Was damp and heavy

You told me that I should
Believe in things unseen,
Like god and your truth.
I warped my brain to
Disarray to be approved
Did that make you feel powerful?
Or do you feel as rotten
As what you always produced?

I am still trying to freeze dry
The black mold you spread within me
While trying to convince myself
That some cold can be healthy
I’m trying not to be resentful
Of the ordinary things you abused
But I can’t help but to imagine your
God in heaven, if he did exist,

Couldn’t create someone so amiss.


(90 unique words)

2/30

Love>Fear

And what, please tell me, is actually important?
A tangible task would make me
much
   more
       comfortable.

Is it
to know the names of the birds on my morning walk,
 notice the springing up of crocuses
   <purple hope in a season of mud>
 and to rejoice in the sunrise on my face?
After all,
I am an insignificant speck –
 surely this is all that can be expected of me
   as I drift, unattached,
     through my brief moment in the universe.
live, laugh, love….

Or is it
to work faithfully within my abilities
 accept the reality of my limitedness
   and focus my gaze on those within my reach?
Engineering my significant efforts
 for tangible benefit of those to whom I’m responsible --
   tireless service for a prescribed purpose.
Let others take care of others,
 after all, one can only do so much.
faith, family, friends…

Or is it
to feel and grieve and rage
 at the plight of the oppressed,
   advocating and poem-izing,
     opening my heart to nameless hurts of the world?
Applying every gift, bestowed or earned
 to reconciling relationships, making broken things whole
   and hardened systems tender
     in order to advance those I'll never meet.
act justly, love mercy, walk humbly…

Deep down, I suspect
 that what’s required of me
   is probably “all of the above”
because why should life be comfortable or easy?
But it’s clearly too much for a finite being
so all I know how to do is

<moment by moment>

strive to choose
  grace over judgement
       open over closed
          love
               over
                   fear.

2/30

SET TO STUN

Some stand armed with a pen, others with a gun:—
quest: is the pen mightier than the sword?
competition rules fixed: set arms to stun

They’d like to blow us all to kingdom come
these wired gun-smiths and their psychotic lords:
stand resolutely armed with a pen, but note the gun

And let the Symbiocene in freedom run
with musical word-smiths and alchemical chords —
competition rules done — all set to stun.

The banter used to be lighter, much more fun
keeping at bay a persistent horde …
stand alert with pen, and eyeball the gun

But what can it mean::: ‘the battle’s won’?
What ‘victory’ could ever be adored?
The competition’s set — fix mode to stun

The enemy is not a Fascist Hun
but dissonance, irrelevance, confusion, bored —
we’re prepped to the gunnels with pen and gun;
the rules prohibit murder, so set to stun.

ii

Untitled

Poetry has always known us
and was once defined
by our love and pain
an empty yearning
for star maps beyond
these networked veins

It understood
we were humans
needing to mold things
into agreeing with us

It would breathe deeply
and hold space
to keep the peace
over juvenile journal entries
we dubbed poetic verse

But as we grew
we mistook its softness
for a steel wool anchor
that would always
hold us in place

We overlooked
its vulnerable underbelly
of earth and Anubus
weighing
its power's proof
against predetermined judgment
and physical ignorance

Rubbing something the wrong way
causes static electricity
over time, a current
constantly rising
to shatter our glass ceiling

Splintering shards from the burn
of fire, fangs, and truth
drawing our blood
across the universe

Because Poetry
has always known us

And now
we who survived
know it too

Congratulations NaPoets! We have a couple MIA that will hopefully show up today, and one image violation but we're good to go!

Edit: Oops! My bad! We have three MIA! Thanks, Summer!

2/30

The best place to cry

When the station wagon
parks its tire upon my chest
and the dragons that should
be asleep wont rest.

If all my syllables need to stay unsaid,
throw blankets over questions in my bed
and I can't form a feeling for your words,
this colour draws attention from the herd.

Then I will put my dishes in to soak
and choke beneath the fishes as they float,
detergent helps me, disperse my lies,
as I'm washed up and left to drain then dry.

2/30

Navalny on Jeopardy


When I think of him, his last day,
I think of him there in the courtroom
behind the shatter-proof glass

grinning at Putin's judge,
joking with Putin's judge
sentenced to more time

than he could ever do
but there defiant, a stand-up convict
doing his time, spitting jokes in the eye

of the judge, joking
at Putin, grinning for
the geopolitical world that claims

to care but not enough
to do anything really strong--
big words, O World, but tiny hands.

You must sling the joke-stone
at the devil's stones and make the
toady in black  joke toadily back

with his dripping gavel shaking
and Putin's cardboard guards trembling
and his palace of kitsch decaying

and his tanks rusting
and his supersonic tchotchkes glowing
and his atomic trinkets ticking

and his radioactive heart half-lifing
and the Prince of Stench, the Emperor of
Emputiness practicing emptiness...

Yesterday Navalny made it to Jeopardy.
and Ken Jennings said something about
"Arctic Circle" and "politician" and "passed away"

and I was yanked upright
by rage and irony and--
double-you-tee-eff???

And there was Navalny
laughing his ass off
at the absurdity of it all

soft-shoeing Chaplin with cane
through my head and I'm going
Navalny, dammit, Navalny...

No, no, he saying. Must  be put in form
of question. Udderwise dey gonna put
you in place like me. See? Got to laff!

But I can't. I can't just yet.
Don't know if, don't know when.
Not "passed away" O Jeopardy writers--murdered.

Yet...you live on. Bright. Forever shining.
More alive than anyone I know,
while we remain below. In chains.

Not you. Not you, Navalny.
As for you, Mr. Jennings, the question is...
Would you rephrase the answer, please?

#2 of 30

Butterfly Wings

There is something to be said
for travelling solitary,
and how fate
seems to throw situations my way,
such as potentially
helping two cute girls by taking photos.

But alas,
All to often
I am a coward.
So I have to Watch myself
and grasp opportunities
as they happen
Rather than retrace my steps
in vain hope of events repeating.

Yet,
I am sure
That the few chances taken
such as relinquishing my seat,
Do Wonders for my Karma
and help
my fate flow harmoniously.

Because Unfettered Butterfly Wings
Beat Back The Hurricanes.

2/30

Skyshard

Hoisted a stone in my palm
When all was so calm

Casted it like a shadow to the sun

Reflections all in a glimmer
Seen the sky as it splinters

Night enveloped in one

A stone's throw in a cast
Raining down with glass
A storm of imagination
Watching the fragmentation

Rippled effects at the crack in the sky
The clouds seem to part without having to pry

Listening to the tinkling as they hit the pavement
Falling shards enveloped in amazement

As the sunset breaks before my eyes
Nocturnal smiles in delight

The day is done

#2

Favorite Time of the Year

Growing up I learned
The importance of Ramadhan
From my parents
We always look forward
To its coming
It's our favorite time of the year

As kids we were excited
To wake up for the dawn meal
It was a happy time for all of us
We were young and our family was complete

Iftar was filled with excitement
Our mom was always busy in the kitchen to prepare our food
Back then we did not realize
The spiritual significance of fasting

Now that I'm growing old
Its spiritual impact is more profound
I looked forward
To Ramadhan each year alone
When my son is not around

I feel spiritually energized
At this time of year
And don't want to miss
Any day without remembrance of my Creator

Ramadhan makes me a better person
It makes me remember the needy
And poor
It makes my patience longer
And my faith stronger

I become more tolerant
And less mindful of other things
That are not important
To my spiritual life
It reminds me to focus on myself
And gain more rewards for doing acts of worship and kindness

2/30

Light My Way

The light calls from far away.

Homing beacon –
Home has been nowhere, and nowhere has been home –
Set in stone
With the thud of the door rolling close.

Until a few months ago,
Until this town,
Until Doc and the good people –
Adopting another stray –
But I was not the first, they say.

To stumble in worse for wear –
Looking for something,
Looking for themselves.

Looking out in the vast Mojave night –
(Where do you even start?)
And they said she did it –
Was reborn from a shallow grave.

And so here I am,
Just beyond the bed she evaded,
Where the sky is wide open
To see
The lights
Where now she was - partly - home.

“Postman gone postal,”
Sunny smiled and said,
“Changed these lands forever,”
Took a swig of her beer.

(It wasn’t glowing.)

She said an old friend became
The legend’s friend and companion,
And his home was here
And out there
And nowhere
Now, too.

I keep my eye on the lights far away.
In the dark desert night,
I wondered – if I wander
Will I
Eventually make it home?

I took a sip from my Quantum,
I think of the future –
Look to the stars above,
To that one tall building so close yet so far.

(It was glowing.)

2/30

Embracing The Aquatic, Heat 1

Doctor says,
“stop sitting idle watching the telly
start emptying that bowl full of jelly.”
Next, prescribing an exercise regime.
“Water walking is easy on the joints”
Dear, healer of highest esteem
you taunt me on purpose
I am good but by no means perfect
Oh, on the floor of a shallow pool
not striding on the surface?
I’ll do as you suggest.
A wonderful dichotomous effect,
losing weight while keeping cool.

Unique word count: 63

2/30

Alien Game

dangerous company;
cadaver explosion.
hide down low.
rotten ruin, despise us.
stop chaos; burn anguish instead.

can a hostile world
assume knowledge;
promise more?
delight is our treasure box
or wish to attain
elaborate power revolt.

high chemical charge,
evolve heat.
require art.
go robustly;
apply influence;
forge spirit today.

2/30

Tears

contemplative thought, I only recognize my own pain
empathising with others I soldier on
tears leak from my eyes a tormented soul

mind scarred I wish I never saw what passes as human
murder, incest, rape
cruelty for cruelty's sake

forsaken on the aether
an intimidated warrior standing up for my beliefs
you shepherd the congregation
while leaving others exposed

you alone command demons
a fall guy is Lux For
we will all point and lay the blame on him
he was created to make us fear you
fear of reprisal, fear of getting the same treatment

born afraid with a sharp instinct
my gut tells me you will use me
a vessel to reanimate after you smother me

my only crime is I hesitated in belief
the shot was mine and I lost that day
cold cocked there is no such thing as fair in war
refocusing my energies,

I realize you have set me at odds with you, yet again

2 of 30

Journal entry two on what is wilderness to me.

To be found,
In between the scattered showers,
The naked,
And the blooming flowers.
Those emerging buds of leaves to be,
How they return,
Tirelessly.
A world of captivating imagery,
Wrapped within,
Scales of singular notation,
Is one, with instinctual, scripted, energy.
And with the calling of their mother tongue,
Growing stronger with the rising sun,
They're a backing chorus of woken whispers,
Barely just begun.