DU Official NaPoWriMo Challenge

29/30

love me like...

Love me
Like you love flowers,
but don't pluck my petals
for they are my essence

Love me
Like you love water:
I'll quench your thirst,
be your life.
So drink me as much as you want,
but don't waste me
for I'm precious

Love me
Like you love sparrows,
but don't hold me too tight,
for I'm fragile;
will suffocate and may die

Love me
Like you can bring the moon
to me;
and I'll love you back
by casting thousands of stars
on your way

But never...never treat me
like your favourite-bubble wrap;
bursting each atom of my being
for your pleasure

For I'll turn into a knife
and if  you try to break me ,
you will end
gashing your own hands

Nothing...nothing else but blood
will remain...

28 of 30

Become a gain

I give myself more each day,
To what holds weight,
And stays.
Give myself more,
To what remains,
Letting loose those,
Surplus grains amongst the rains.
Watch each washed,
Become a gain,
As in each,
I rise, a little lighter.
There is still a beach within my hand,
Still a weight within my step,
A strain upon the line of sight.
And as I die,
Between the dusk’s of nine to five.
My hand,
Feels the feign of a silver sand.
A ghost amongst the passage.
And I,
Mair fain tae fecht,
Leave wondering,
When those grains,
Become a gain.

28/30

Bellow, cello

Cello abhors a choppy accent—
deems it a din.
Below glossy floors,
a boy ghost flops by a door.
Bees abuzz accept billowy access;
deny glory afoot; accost adders!
First, elms lost mossy, hilly moors.
almost add best, achy foot.
Eery egg begins knotty, chilly, demo.
Adept deer ably bellow:
"Beep! Boop! Fizz! Fuzz!"
Chimps chill in chintz chinos.

28/30

[NaPoWriMo - 2025 Collection] Flowers from Thoughts

iv  

Summer
                           Maturation

Rejoice, oh young man
 in thy youth*

We wear no shoes
 through the garden path
stop to rest, unfolding
 on a blanket, inhale
the scent of summer

The air is thick
 with humid aroma
our nostrils flare
 from yellow pollen
floating above us

coating every leaf
 and flower as a lemon
veil; the drops fall hard
 summer rain sounds
like bacon frying in lard

We are saturated, clothes
  molded against skin
moisturized warmth
  steaming distant pavement
smoke rising as mist

We breathe in everything
                 all at once
. . .

27/30

[NaPo2025—Reasonable Rhymes]

only in jamaica—dreader dan dread

❝Jamaicans are the most kind-hearted
nicest rude people you will ever meet.❞—Patois phrase


we can make real blood
out of stone
we can drink a flood
till it’s gone
we inhale agony
and exhale harmony
we know how to grow with hunger
yet become robust and stronger

we know how to rise and fall
and bruise ourselves on rocks
yet we triumph over all
when sheer ice makes up our stocks

corner of earth
let life here take you
for there’s no dearth
here in jamaica
sun, sea, and beach
for full-fledged pleasure
beautiful reach
of endless treasure
troubles behind
come find your groove here
why be confined
till you are threadbare

green grotto caves
deep mystery session
everyone raves
in true confession
blue mountain range
close to the skyline
nothing so strange
as boredom byline
steep waterfalls
blooming in splendour
are nature balls
for your top ender

marley and vibes
bumpers and grinders
where the twelve tribes
chant strong reminders
of the escape
from deep oppression
killing the rape
of man’s aggression

conga and bass
with lyric feelings
bring the whole race
new truth-revealings
butter and bread
human consumption
dreader dan dread
conscious redemption

© Copyright 2025 April 27
by Clyve A. Bowen♫


UWC 103




28/30

[NaPo2025—Reasonable Rhymes]

if eyes were parts of hands


❝Some eyes touch you more
than hands ever could.❞—Bliss


if eyes were parts of hands, instead of heads,
my fingers would string needles with swift threads;
but sighting would be difficult at times,
for eyes may weep when teased by hand-clapped rhymes.

if eyes were parts of hands, i'd see above
the shoulders of big boys who shout and shove,
and when i point my finger at screwface,
i'd stare him in the nose, his poise displace.

if eyes were parts of hands, i'd see your soul,
for hugging you would give me full control,
over your body, naked or adorned.
be mindful, then, for you have been forewarned!

if eyes were parts of hands, my helping eyes
would navigate the earth without disguise,
and find the brokenhearted, lost, and torn,
that they may to a better home adjourn.

if eyes were parts of hands, how would i climb
with every rung minutely so sublime,
as giving me first-glance of heaven's gate,
wide open for this poor expatriate!

© Copyright 2025 April 28
by Clyve A. Bowen♫

UWC 103


DOUBLE-POSTING FOR DAY 27 AND DAY 28, AS A RESULT OF NOTIFIED TECHNICAL DEVICE ISSUES YESTERDAY.

#28/30

April 28

Get your puny orange paws away from our stuff!
Our elbows are up and we’ve heard quite enough.
Quit dragging us down – we won’t be your chattel
as your sad experiment breathes its death rattle.

I feel for the good people trapped in your hell,
and even the ones who got caught in your spell.
But I have no power to fix what you’ve busted –
we used to be friends; now you can’t be trusted.

Greed and ineptitude make a poor ruler.
Won’t somebody do something??

       Bueller?

               Bueller…?

28/30

Still Here

Pretty certain
the intensive care
the chronic
too much to bear
not long gone
and still here, there
everywhere
despite feeling calm
no storm clouds
trying to guide
lightning lighting
my way
liken to the eye
of a hurricane
causing me to wander
wonder where my
tears have fled to.

I have crawled out
the same person
but exactly, NOT
the same.

#28

East Coast Dreams

We walked the blocks of Philadelphia  
Strolled through the Fairmount park
Drank Irish mules on South street
Experienced the magic gardens art
Took a snap of the liberty bell
Oh what irony, we laughed
Ate a cheesesteak at the Reading Market
Oh what a beautiful day
Hoped in the car towards Norfolk
Where will we end tonight?
Along the beach
East coast dreams
We’ll wake up with the sun

28/30

Fluffball

She’s fluffy and fuzzy
Playful and crazy
Spends all day running around
And laying in the sun on her perch
Mewing for food and driving us insane
She loves her salmon treats and her string toy
She loves to sit on the window and watch the world outside
Her fascination by bugs and birds is adorable
I could watch her all day long
I wish I could see the world through her eyes
It seems like she's living the best life

28/30

Eerie Hopes Written in Cassiopeia Tropes

I

The doors of perception
Opening
into

Veneers of the future
Falling
leaves
over

Verdure
Black moons – Pursuing white
moons

Ever further

II

Ghost riding dark path
through trees

Whispering secretly
serenely

Secrets kept
by

Silence: Wept.  Darkness

&

Depth

III

I, myself, have
my own, secrets

Kept

Hidden safe

In a

Unibomber vest
left

To tests
of

Elements.  Felt
in

The felt
Upon the path.  Sideways/shadows/like acid trip they: Melt

IV

Through the ghosts I goeth
for I knoweth
I am

Poet.  And…

Poet’s poet.  And yes, they know it
So why
not

Show it.  To a population
that

Needs it.  Why the fuck not.  Fuck it

V

Past miasma at last into vast vista
of

Waves

&

Stars

Turning
into
an observatory
turning

&

Rotating.  Meditating – Contemplating

VI

There I felt a breeze
then saw

An orb

Over the trees.  Shape-shifting/speaking

To…  Me

Of shifting
shapes
of

Eternity.  Taking me –
Over

The trees

To see – To see  - To be – To be
Where waves
wave
greetings
of

Meetings

VII

Such a site of stars
Panorama
of

Firmament: Unreal – Surreal
What we think

&

Feel.  Really-revealed

Unreal

VIII

Compass rose
to

Cassiopeia
over dune
chose
for

Poetic ceremony

IX

Words to be
heard
by

Crow

Raven

&

Bird

X

Spoken-performed
by

Cipher

&

Lifer

XI

Writer

To the death
of

Stars

Until there
are

No stars
left

Fuck it.  The fuck it’s can be: A gift

***
Cipher
Poems
***

28/30

NaPo 2025 Day 28

Ever had a moment
where the torment
was a bit much.
Such endeavors
become feats of strength.
The length of the journey
does not really matter.
The parts of you that shatter
are on the mend
and you can bend
it is up to your will again.
Main point here
is not to fear the adventure.
Indenture yourself to living
and giving all you got.

[Unique Words 50]

28/30

She Imagines Her Fears are a School of Neon Tetras

And when I let the shining, slippery
fish out of their pet store bag –
let their speckled, silver bodies loose
into the sea of my ribcage and stomach
and heart – each and every neon stripe
illuminated every break, every flare
of inflammation, every reason to give up.

And their tiny, shining bodies – their scales
catching any fire it can – congregate.
Those fears a shimmering, shivering
school that says We do it anyway.

28/30

Buried

I think I repressed so many emotions over the years
I lost track of what’s buried in the back of that cemetery
Though I don’t go into details or talk about it much nowadays
I just rhyme as if I’m running out of time like it’s very scary

And sometimes those old emotions are like restless ghosts
Their chains rattle like they want to rap battle me with loose lips
I just tell ‘em “shut the hell up and get back into your grave”
But I am more well-read now in case of a zombie apocalypse


77 Unique
96 Total

28 of 30

Pre-Web Years: B0rowser

Browsing for knowledge
as a child of the 1970's
was a magical sensorial adventure
the most up-to-date data,
at my fingertips,
current to the early sixties,
made all the more accessible
on the lowest bookshelf
in a 100 pound collection
of Coliers Encyclopedias,
such a whimsical word
for an eight-year-old to say

On any given Summer's day
I'd forego outside play
and in my PJ's stay
selecting one of the hefty,
black, red-labeled tomes
their alphabetical range
in gold letters on the spine emblazoned.

The book cracks when opened
out wafts the heady scent of words and pictures
perusing subjects of my choosing
visiting far flung places
learning their population,
flag color and design,
country bird and flower,
climate details, most prevalent industries,
crops and livestock they grew
you know, intriguing information
I could work into
family dinner conversation.

28/30

YOUR TURN WITH THE AXE

These bastards
Made damn sure
You never had a chance

But look at all
The moves you learned
I love to watch you dance

And now you find you’re
Head to head with those who
Chopped you down

It is your turn with the axe
Do not relax
It’s time to hit the town

There’s usually less reason
And often times
Less rhyme

You have opportunity
And motive
Now commit the fucking crime