Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017
A Month is far too much
Going into this with a plan of attack
or half an idea, or even a segment at a pinch
would have been very, very, very, useful.
Instead each poem is done on the fly;
flying by the seat of my pants
hoping inspiration hits home
rather than a bird strike of writer's block.
Thirty poems on the tarot, or food,
or history of that day,
or the study of barnacles,
or anything pre-planned really
could have solved the daily disaster
of needing a poem and having nothing to peddle
a wordsmith without anything to hit out.
A week would have been enough,
A month is far too much
and seems to be far longer I remember it being.
I will be well and truly buggered,
metaphorically not literally mind you,
if it was a year of poems.
Self imposing a rule of
one hundred unique words
hardly helps the situation.
Another one down
onto the next one
maybe I'll have a better idea by then.
(Day and Entry 10, 21:36 GMT)
Going into this with a plan of attack
or half an idea, or even a segment at a pinch
would have been very, very, very, useful.
Instead each poem is done on the fly;
flying by the seat of my pants
hoping inspiration hits home
rather than a bird strike of writer's block.
Thirty poems on the tarot, or food,
or history of that day,
or the study of barnacles,
or anything pre-planned really
could have solved the daily disaster
of needing a poem and having nothing to peddle
a wordsmith without anything to hit out.
A week would have been enough,
A month is far too much
and seems to be far longer I remember it being.
I will be well and truly buggered,
metaphorically not literally mind you,
if it was a year of poems.
Self imposing a rule of
one hundred unique words
hardly helps the situation.
Another one down
onto the next one
maybe I'll have a better idea by then.
(Day and Entry 10, 21:36 GMT)
A chill upon deaths door
& yea perchance
should come the dawn
& morning light
rid me that retched spawn
the evil kin of the witch of Contrenille
that thrice had held my heart to still
had placed upon me an grisly curse
when I chose not to lighten purse
& now in the emptiness of this room
I can sense her spirits gloom
it was not now but three days past
that I gazed upon the looking glass
to see my days of future.... pass
I set alone in this dimly lit room
a cold & lonely empty tomb
to await my macabre fate
upon this date foretold my torture
a life of deamons & of torture
& as I set spine pressed tight to the stair
I perceived a chill upon the air
my mind unraveled with torment
as I could feel my soul descent
to be trapped forever more
between the living & deaths door
04102017
& yea perchance
should come the dawn
& morning light
rid me that retched spawn
the evil kin of the witch of Contrenille
that thrice had held my heart to still
had placed upon me an grisly curse
when I chose not to lighten purse
& now in the emptiness of this room
I can sense her spirits gloom
it was not now but three days past
that I gazed upon the looking glass
to see my days of future.... pass
I set alone in this dimly lit room
a cold & lonely empty tomb
to await my macabre fate
upon this date foretold my torture
a life of deamons & of torture
& as I set spine pressed tight to the stair
I perceived a chill upon the air
my mind unraveled with torment
as I could feel my soul descent
to be trapped forever more
between the living & deaths door
04102017
http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p459/melgensor44/Sand_zpsdm5rcliy.jpg
Sand Scape
Walking along the Atlantic sea
Seeing impressions of a tree
Composition easily complete
As the rocks make their retreat
Elements of beauty in every stride
Left behind by the ocean’s tide
Stones are carving in the sand
Like a sculptor’s magic hand
Perfect reflection feigning sun rise
Almost an illusion to the eyes
Only ecology could leave this trace
And still have the power to erase
Spiritual, the picture painted
A coastline’s canvas left untainted
Such a lovely masterpiece
Wonders of nature never cease
Sand Scape
Walking along the Atlantic sea
Seeing impressions of a tree
Composition easily complete
As the rocks make their retreat
Elements of beauty in every stride
Left behind by the ocean’s tide
Stones are carving in the sand
Like a sculptor’s magic hand
Perfect reflection feigning sun rise
Almost an illusion to the eyes
Only ecology could leave this trace
And still have the power to erase
Spiritual, the picture painted
A coastline’s canvas left untainted
Such a lovely masterpiece
Wonders of nature never cease
X. Consciousness: Smell
Budding sensory cells, olfactory
receptors mediating fresh detection
beyond four basic qualities of taste:
Sweet, sour, bitter, and salt.
Within our nasal cavity tiny antenae,
invertebrate at attention, transmit
identifying kinship for registration
into the prefrontal vortex of memory.
Coding recognition of our Mother's
scent, the aroma of her breast, thick,
odorant with the sweat of birth, now
emmanating rich, creamy colostrum.
Perfumed Love ingrained by suckling,
infusing an Earthen bloodline of Home.
...
Budding sensory cells, olfactory
receptors mediating fresh detection
beyond four basic qualities of taste:
Sweet, sour, bitter, and salt.
Within our nasal cavity tiny antenae,
invertebrate at attention, transmit
identifying kinship for registration
into the prefrontal vortex of memory.
Coding recognition of our Mother's
scent, the aroma of her breast, thick,
odorant with the sweat of birth, now
emmanating rich, creamy colostrum.
Perfumed Love ingrained by suckling,
infusing an Earthen bloodline of Home.
...
MacZombie
There’s a zombie wanders Calton Hill
He plays the pipes, a deathly shrill
He limps a lot, his name in Rob
Through rotting flesh he lost his nob
He’s got one eye and half a nose
Blood and pus, freely flows
His head has a hole, some scalp is missing
It’s not a face that’s made for kissing
He wears a kilt, this Scottish hunk
A whisky man he’s always drunk
Loves his oatcakes, loves his porridge,
In the wheelie bins he’s known to forage
When it gets dark you’ll hear his groans
He’ll sometimes screech and sometimes moans
Typical Scotsman never happy
Always complaining, feeling crappy
Rather strangely he’s got issues
Wipes his drool with scented tissues
Wouldn’t munch on me or you
Much preferring fried tofu
Veggie haggis, meat-free mince
Meaty flesh would make him wince
Such an unlikely humanitarian
Rob’s a zombie and a vegetarian
There’s a zombie wanders Calton Hill
He plays the pipes, a deathly shrill
He limps a lot, his name in Rob
Through rotting flesh he lost his nob
He’s got one eye and half a nose
Blood and pus, freely flows
His head has a hole, some scalp is missing
It’s not a face that’s made for kissing
He wears a kilt, this Scottish hunk
A whisky man he’s always drunk
Loves his oatcakes, loves his porridge,
In the wheelie bins he’s known to forage
When it gets dark you’ll hear his groans
He’ll sometimes screech and sometimes moans
Typical Scotsman never happy
Always complaining, feeling crappy
Rather strangely he’s got issues
Wipes his drool with scented tissues
Wouldn’t munch on me or you
Much preferring fried tofu
Veggie haggis, meat-free mince
Meaty flesh would make him wince
Such an unlikely humanitarian
Rob’s a zombie and a vegetarian
barrel child
On the second Saturday of every month
Auntie and I went down to the port office
To reclaim traces of my mother
I knew not whether to call her shell
Or blue whale
She left on Noah's ark
Packing memories of her and I
Two by two
for I could still see them with both eyes
Hear them with two ears
And I cried with the kiss of her two lips
that carried the lie
I'll be back
My love for her was being held hostage in
New York City
The barrel filled with
Cookies
Hand me down clothes
Light bulbs
Rice
Beans
Pasta
Sausages
Toilet paper
Towels
Sheets
Playing cards
Batteries
Hair ribbons
Tampons
Crackers
This was my ransom
To be paid to my Auntie
and cousins and neighbors
And to whoever else seemed to need
I felt like the Oreo cookies my cousin
Rene loved so
He'd crack open the black shell
Spiliting it in two
Eating the soft sweetness that had bound them
first
Then he'd work on each chocolate black shell
One in each hand
Held so far away from the other
He'd smiled after
Those he conquered no stained his teeth
But not for long
As he sucked them out from the crevices
with tongue
The same lying tongue that had told me my mother
Was never coming back
And I was never going to New York
Had eaten of her
Had eaten me
When we get our in New York
Maybe like the Brady Bunch
Or a beautiful flat like the Jeffersons
Mama may send barrels
But I'll not let her send Rene any more oreos
On the second Saturday of every month
Auntie and I went down to the port office
To reclaim traces of my mother
I knew not whether to call her shell
Or blue whale
She left on Noah's ark
Packing memories of her and I
Two by two
for I could still see them with both eyes
Hear them with two ears
And I cried with the kiss of her two lips
that carried the lie
I'll be back
My love for her was being held hostage in
New York City
The barrel filled with
Cookies
Hand me down clothes
Light bulbs
Rice
Beans
Pasta
Sausages
Toilet paper
Towels
Sheets
Playing cards
Batteries
Hair ribbons
Tampons
Crackers
This was my ransom
To be paid to my Auntie
and cousins and neighbors
And to whoever else seemed to need
I felt like the Oreo cookies my cousin
Rene loved so
He'd crack open the black shell
Spiliting it in two
Eating the soft sweetness that had bound them
first
Then he'd work on each chocolate black shell
One in each hand
Held so far away from the other
He'd smiled after
Those he conquered no stained his teeth
But not for long
As he sucked them out from the crevices
with tongue
The same lying tongue that had told me my mother
Was never coming back
And I was never going to New York
Had eaten of her
Had eaten me
When we get our in New York
Maybe like the Brady Bunch
Or a beautiful flat like the Jeffersons
Mama may send barrels
But I'll not let her send Rene any more oreos
poet
my mind grows weary
Trying to tell every story
I've ever heard
I hide out at the bistro
On the avenue
Sipping Chardonnay
And treasure hunting through
Moules marinieres
I think of Baldwin and Wright
in these moments
I walk the park for a bit
And then the boulevard
And old man passes me by
Whispers of his pipe tap me on the shoulder
They tell me he left the house
Before his wife could kick him out
Come walk with us
Talk with us
They say
The hints of nutmeg and cinnamon are tempting
But I bid him adieu
I see the Muslim girl
Covering her hair for modesty
Yet she struts in her jeans like a girl
From the boogie down
What's that story
There's a hollow point in the wall
I pass on the path in the park
Dark enough for thieves
Dark enough for lovers
But it keeps its secrets
Like they all do
Until I ask
Excuse me ...
my mind grows weary
Trying to tell every story
I've ever heard
I hide out at the bistro
On the avenue
Sipping Chardonnay
And treasure hunting through
Moules marinieres
I think of Baldwin and Wright
in these moments
I walk the park for a bit
And then the boulevard
And old man passes me by
Whispers of his pipe tap me on the shoulder
They tell me he left the house
Before his wife could kick him out
Come walk with us
Talk with us
They say
The hints of nutmeg and cinnamon are tempting
But I bid him adieu
I see the Muslim girl
Covering her hair for modesty
Yet she struts in her jeans like a girl
From the boogie down
What's that story
There's a hollow point in the wall
I pass on the path in the park
Dark enough for thieves
Dark enough for lovers
But it keeps its secrets
Like they all do
Until I ask
Excuse me ...
Neoplasm
Medical synonym
heterogeneous
clonal cells
building a
mass
of hate
in red dry un-giving
orgasm
parasite
murderous
genetic
mutating killer
You've gone to far!
A simple strand
the simplest of DNA
damaged
unable to rebuild
re-grow
re-develop
The "field effect"
spread
like gangsters
and pimps
in the dark streets
at midnight
growing their numbers
as one
in silence
while body temples lay
living dreams
in their sleep
[!]
12-04-2017
April 11 ( NaPoWriMo 2017 )
Here
In earshot people speak like I'm not here.
I scan the room there's blood flowing like tears
From every guest that mills and mumbles low,
But do they care, or don't they even know?
I tool around this unfamiliar place.
Where have the players gone without a trace,
While eerie music drones on the wrong speed;
It's then I know I've done a horrid deed.
It's gotten very quiet I confess
By any other standard more or less.
I know what is and need to make it clear,
The only sane one uninvited here.
I tip & toe and slide around the chairs,
And squint my eyes to make me more aware.
What kind of party was this meant to be?
The scattered bodies leave no clues for me.
I'll try to make some sense about all this,
But first I need to plant a little kiss
Onto the bloodied lips of someone dear;
The only sane one uninvited here.
Here
In earshot people speak like I'm not here.
I scan the room there's blood flowing like tears
From every guest that mills and mumbles low,
But do they care, or don't they even know?
I tool around this unfamiliar place.
Where have the players gone without a trace,
While eerie music drones on the wrong speed;
It's then I know I've done a horrid deed.
It's gotten very quiet I confess
By any other standard more or less.
I know what is and need to make it clear,
The only sane one uninvited here.
I tip & toe and slide around the chairs,
And squint my eyes to make me more aware.
What kind of party was this meant to be?
The scattered bodies leave no clues for me.
I'll try to make some sense about all this,
But first I need to plant a little kiss
Onto the bloodied lips of someone dear;
The only sane one uninvited here.
Daily Entry:
Welcome to Day 11, Poets! You're over 1/3 of the way home! T-minus 20 days and counting! We're holding strong at 21 participants who are eligible for the trophy:
Ahavati
JohnnyBlaze
mel44
RevolutionAl
Earth_Child
Jade-Pandora
Hepcat61
LobodeSanPedro
MadameLavender
DaisyGrace
Viddax
Whale
FromtheAsh
Magnetron
MaryWalker
Psycotic[yes its spelled right]Mastermind
Anarchitect
Josh
SatansSperm
Crimsin_Unveiling
David_MacLeod
Beginning tomorrow we'll start featuring our Napo poets on the DUP facebook page as well as here on the site, so stay tuned!
Welcome to Day 11, Poets! You're over 1/3 of the way home! T-minus 20 days and counting! We're holding strong at 21 participants who are eligible for the trophy:
Ahavati
JohnnyBlaze
mel44
RevolutionAl
Earth_Child
Jade-Pandora
Hepcat61
LobodeSanPedro
MadameLavender
DaisyGrace
Viddax
Whale
FromtheAsh
Magnetron
MaryWalker
Psycotic[yes its spelled right]Mastermind
Anarchitect
Josh
SatansSperm
Crimsin_Unveiling
David_MacLeod
Beginning tomorrow we'll start featuring our Napo poets on the DUP facebook page as well as here on the site, so stay tuned!
NaPoWriMo 11/30 for April 11th, 2017
Villanelle No: 11
THE SUN RISES DAILY
Despite the many chemicals they used
The Sun Arose Reliably And Calm
despite the many citizens abused
the spreading of manipulated news
is making people start to have some qualms
despite the many chemicals they use
emotional reactions aren’t confused
they come from deeper stress to sound alarm
despite the many children who’re abused
denial’s fair enough - we have our views
but who can’t see the orchestrated harm
despite the many chemicals we use?
the people are attacked when stating truths
as brothers, sisters stand there arm in arm
despite the many activists abused
see past the frantic lies to bigger clues
The Sun Arises Daily With Its Balm
despite the many chemicals they use
despite the many citizens abused.
Villanelle No: 11
THE SUN RISES DAILY
Despite the many chemicals they used
The Sun Arose Reliably And Calm
despite the many citizens abused
the spreading of manipulated news
is making people start to have some qualms
despite the many chemicals they use
emotional reactions aren’t confused
they come from deeper stress to sound alarm
despite the many children who’re abused
denial’s fair enough - we have our views
but who can’t see the orchestrated harm
despite the many chemicals we use?
the people are attacked when stating truths
as brothers, sisters stand there arm in arm
despite the many activists abused
see past the frantic lies to bigger clues
The Sun Arises Daily With Its Balm
despite the many chemicals they use
despite the many citizens abused.
April 11, 2017
CYCLE II: FIRE
Reverence
O, Priestess of the scared flame be praised,
For you alone holds true the way divine.
Within your caldron's fire, or brassier raised,
The flickered red and golden god’s design.
From peoples’ hold aloft at tribal head,
In censer, cupped and covered, glowing coals,
To temples’ lighted stands on oils spread,
From shepherd’s cloth to flowing silken stoles.
The nations knew with fire was life found,
The sacrifice was burned to godly need,
To sanctify the supplicated grounds,
With blood of untouched lamb and virgin seed.
Yet still the Vestals held the sacred flame,
Until the Vandal horde laid waste their claim.
CYCLE II: FIRE
Reverence
O, Priestess of the scared flame be praised,
For you alone holds true the way divine.
Within your caldron's fire, or brassier raised,
The flickered red and golden god’s design.
From peoples’ hold aloft at tribal head,
In censer, cupped and covered, glowing coals,
To temples’ lighted stands on oils spread,
From shepherd’s cloth to flowing silken stoles.
The nations knew with fire was life found,
The sacrifice was burned to godly need,
To sanctify the supplicated grounds,
With blood of untouched lamb and virgin seed.
Yet still the Vestals held the sacred flame,
Until the Vandal horde laid waste their claim.
Anonymous
inner space
caught in the drone of day to day
mind drifting
voices fade to far away
no anchor for my thoughts
free fall in my inner space
truly a speck in a vast expanse
as a universe untapped
slips through my hands
sudden laughter
followed by silence
unexpected in such a dull place
drops me
like a stone into the sea
as here and now
settles back around me
shake it off
take a deep breath
back to the grind
caught in the drone of day to day
mind drifting
voices fade to far away
no anchor for my thoughts
free fall in my inner space
truly a speck in a vast expanse
as a universe untapped
slips through my hands
sudden laughter
followed by silence
unexpected in such a dull place
drops me
like a stone into the sea
as here and now
settles back around me
shake it off
take a deep breath
back to the grind
Anonymous
What You Think You Know
you think you know
What you think you know
you think you know
What you think you know
is not nearly as much as you think
Here's more sweet
Kool Aid
for you to drink
Stare at the wall
Its brick, invisible
much like your skull
thick, impenetrable
As the fault in our stars
falls around us pink
you panic like idiots
only seeing what
I allow you to know
what I tell you to
think
Think about it
All the while
I manipulate
the outcome
in my favor
keeping the townsfolk
under my thumb
believing
me when I say
I'm their savior
while the real danger here?
preventing everyone from
leaving
was me the entire time
deceiving
you all
inspired by Stephen King's Under The Dome
you think you know
What you think you know
you think you know
What you think you know
is not nearly as much as you think
Here's more sweet
Kool Aid
for you to drink
Stare at the wall
Its brick, invisible
much like your skull
thick, impenetrable
As the fault in our stars
falls around us pink
you panic like idiots
only seeing what
I allow you to know
what I tell you to
think
Think about it
All the while
I manipulate
the outcome
in my favor
keeping the townsfolk
under my thumb
believing
me when I say
I'm their savior
while the real danger here?
preventing everyone from
leaving
was me the entire time
deceiving
you all
inspired by Stephen King's Under The Dome
