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Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017

Dangerous Mind
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A stroll to a place called nowhere

I was sitting in a bar
with my constant
companion of late
a white russian
when a man
an acquaintance of mine
walked in soaking wet
no coat in sight
which I found rather odd
since it had been raining all day
he sat down
at the bar next to me
grabbed my lady friend
& quickly dispensed with her
then ordered two more
& started to speak

She looked at me
much in the same way
that oatmeal
looks back at you
from the bowl
& I told her she would have to help me out
as I was not well versed
in the language
of breakfast foods
I could feel the white elephant in the room
take a seat on my chest
I have been watching the paint dry
on this relationship
for so long now
that my eyes can not distinguish
or a pale yellow
I cannot remember it's name
she obviously
could not see the
white elephant in the room
I think the color is called
she then said that she was going to her mothers
hung her coat over her arm
picked up her suitcase
& walked out the door
I stood there for a moment
then said to myself
[for there was no one with me at this point]
that her mother had been
dead for
quite some time now
by the time I had gotten to the door
it was too late
she had stepped
in front
of a bus
but looked happy
say hi to your mom for me
was the last thing he said
...after he was done
he got up
& walked back outside
into the pouring rain
my guess was that
he missed oatmeal


Thought Provoker
United States
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i will get caught up. i will get caught up. I WILL GET CAUGHT UP!

do you think if i say it enough, it will come true? i've got some banked, but these past two days have been nightmares.

Guardian of Shadows
Sierra Leone
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Cherry blossoms haunt me
Invade the underpinnings of
My tattered sanity

I wanted to plant one to mark a loss
Now I want to plant one to celebrate a blessing
I've done neither

One day I'll plant those tombstones
For me
All around the city
How else will anyone know I was here

Plant trees
I need to plant trees
I'm gonna burglarize a park and plant three
Maybe somewhere else


Da Boogie Down

The zoo

The leaves are eternal
Like multiples
Factors the base
I have to teach the little one that

Read her
Her first book
Leaves of a tree
I want to write her song

Feed it to the worms
Let the birds sing it in the boughs
Everyone hears it
Even when they don't want to

I have to
Because she'll be cheated
When I crash
She'll cry most because she won't understand
My tombstones will still be here
Beautiful breathing markets

Guardian of Shadows
Sierra Leone
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Forum Posts: 3191

what I've done

Yeah that usual shit
Put it on a bucket list

Climb a mountain
Meet the Pope
Meet the Dali lama
Scuba dive the coral reefs
See your favorite team win a championship
Not on television
Be there

What would check off
Anything [?]

Don't cop out with birth of my ...
You only had to stick it in
Or open your legs
Hell ya mighta been drunk that night

I mean what have you really done
For you
To prove your worth this thing called life

I once did that
Random act of kindness
Pay it forward

Paid an expired parking meter
Just before the cop wrote a ticket
Out came this woman
Jumped in and drove off
She had no idea

I heard the $25 she saved on the ticket
Got donated to her church
They gave a kid a scholarship
She became a doctor
You know the one who found a cure for AIDS

that's what I did
I found the cure
What about you

Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Forum Posts: 233


It's no shoot it's fam
Can you do four oh
For half a ting
Yeah a favour
He's my pa you get me

He'll be ten
He's got the food

And that's how it rolls
And he keeps a clean house
He loves his girl and she loves him
She wears plaid pyjamas
He's got those adidas slides
PG Tips and chicken shop reheat
And we laugh at the Netflix
At the lawyer and the pretty sidekick
Just out of Yale in the argyle and brooks
Who's gonna save the day in the end

And no one says anything they didn't mean
And no one wants for or wants anything
And if there is earth below us it spins not
Nor has a fiery core
It is flat this flat
In the endless state of peace
Our England

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Welcome to Day 21! T-minus 10 days and counting! We're on the home stretch, Poets! Have you gotten your second wind yet?!

We're holding strong at 21 eligible for the trophy, even if they tumble down the hill!  


Congratulations to our next Featured Napo Poet, RevolutionAl!


Tyrant of Words
United States
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Forum Posts: 243

taking inventory

small of stature
and lacking self-esteem
desperately seeking love
though bearing many scars
fell hard before his gaze
(and firmly into his grip)
perfect and malleable (for his designs)
with electric pulses he ruled her nights
unaware was she
the current flowed only one way
eager to please
controlled by her need
he told her who to be

walking side by side
(though in truth
she walked a little behind)
letting him control the home
in which she was often found
and who she was
became ever more blurred
as the lines she'd drawn
became smudged and bruised
while he ruthlessly molded her
into his perfect doll

hearts beating under one roof
for a time he was enthralled
focused on the child
finally, she thought
he'd love her
and she'd be enough
but all eyes on infant
nobody noticed
mother and child ever together
father frequently
not to be found

remaining as she in defeat
gave up and left
hopes disintegrated
heart torn and bereft
this being a blessing
she had yet to discover
who she was shifted
without the rules of another
together they grew
offspring and mother
side by side learning how to be strong
determined her baby would never fall victim
she modeled confidence
encouraged exploration
to develop sense of self
to always seek answers
and live with compassion
but never be put on a shelf

stood alone
as the years rolled away
rooms suddenly empty
scion no longer a babe
only then did she take time
to slow down
and go inside
touching each scar
and releasing the pain
forgiving herself
for not being stronger
until at last understanding
she couldn't be wronger

strength isn't found
by not getting wounded
it's found in the survival

jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Did you feel it, or might've seen it
But didn't hear it as it flew by us
The close encounter since the past ten years

From a passer-by, the weirdest shaped rock
You ever did see, a quarter mile wide
It happened last night depending on where

You happen to be, and guess just how close
This visitor reached to making contact
With a monster splash or a ton of dust

Making a crater about five miles wide
A million miles away; is that far from you?
Rethink that while I say, only five times

Than our cousin Moon you could travel soon
I don't know 'bout you, closer than you think.
But relax for now, we're out of the red

One won't come that close for so many years
So now all we need to worry about
Is the hard real truth of nuclear war

That might/could come soon, then none of us need
To worry of jobs to pay for the rent
Or Internet hacks who'll steal your ID

And not asteroids to take us all out
Or leave some behind who linger a while
But there'll be no stress, now won't that be fine?

jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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The entry I just now posted, "Visitor", is for April 21 ( NaPoWriMo 2017 ).

.gif image: public domain

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Psych Ward 666

I'm not expecting to be creative today
I feel too on edge for that
borderline psychotic
this is a painful place to be

snap your brain chemistry changes
& there it is
that fear
of that place
not knowing reality from delusion

it's a terrifying thought
what's more frightening
is the knowledge this is about to occur
to fall of the edge of a cliff
you didn't know was there
holds no power

standing on the edge of it
eyes wide with horror
as unseen demon hands
prepare to push you
down, down, down
into hell on Earth
that's what psych wards really are

people doing time
pacing the perimeter of the place
as anxiety chokes you
it's only a matter of time
until you pop off completely

& get strapped down
on their instrument of torture
four point restraints
in the padded room
the constant screams
a warning of what awaits
you should your anxiety escalate

then their are the restless nights
on your rubber sheets
running into walls
because they've drugged you
into the nether zone
nightmares of the psych ward
number 666

Copyright © 2017 Crimsin. All Rights Reserved

geoff cat
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Forum Posts: 893

April 21, 2017



My how the harvest orb have risen full,
It fills Her nightly vision with its curve.
Her seas are welling at its whelming pull,
My how it wavely brings Her swelling verve.
The pulsing at Her core its movement drives,
My how She gives Her risen tides to it,
And spells its rhythms in Her maidens’ lives,
Whose zodiacly worship pursues it.    
But as with flow, when flow shouts out its peak,
The ebb must find its slow and sure retract.
And from its full, the orb reductions seek.
For after tides are spent, comes sure react.
But soon enough will orb’s curve bring Her well,
And once more feel Her rising tides’ impel.

Alistair Plint
Dangerous Mind
South Africa
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Dearest Taiza

Oh! Taiza how we miss him
in oh so many ways
Taiza was a clown you see
and rather sad at that
He'd never seen a horror
violence made him ill
He'd never earned a dollar
or even a single cent
All the schools and orphanages
had his number speed-dial saved
Call or SMS and
the stage was sent

Taisa never spoke you see
he'd teach the kids to read
you could hear the raucous
laughter for miles when his
words got bent

He had them laugh at funny
eat apples drenched in honey
He' get stuck in the wooden chair
till you couldn't tell his neck was even there
No one knew why his pants would
fall asleep or his
jacket never hung
but made a
an awesome tent

Oh Taisa was a good clown
with a jacket full of holes
no one understood why
when his pocket was filled with soda
not a single drop was spent

When each show closed
balloons were blown and bent
and each child left
learning a cool
science experiment

old Taisa died the death
that every clown gets sent
The egg in the museum cracked
His face was used in lent

Taisa was good clown
with an egg in Switzerland
some rude men charged
heaven and earth
to feed their vanity
of clowns
who leave
no life

[ ]

The 22nd meant

Fire of Insight
United States
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DaisyGrace said:i will get caught up. i will get caught up. I WILL GET CAUGHT UP!

do you think if i say it enough, it will come true? i've got some banked, but these past two days have been nightmares.

Clear your head and repeat after me

I am one with the Force
The Force is one with me
I am one with the Force
The Force is one with me
I am ........

Fire of Insight
United States
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The Popsicle Stick Poet

Even though I grew up
in the era of the typewriter
and spiral notebook
I am a poet of the Digital Age

Inconceivable it is;
the prospect of not
tapping away on a tablet
with a faux pencil stylus
or my usual four fingers
pounding laptop keys
into early retirement

hacking and slashing
with the glorious Godsend
that is Cut And Paste

though this be my bane
as it is the number leading
cause of death to perfect verse
riddling it with typos and other
odd artifacts

I am not destined long for this world
as a writer without electricity
and there is no going back to
the way things were

but will do my best to adapt
even if it means scribbling
onto wooden popsicle sticks
laying them on the floor
rearranging them willy nilly
snapping apart my thoughts
if need be, until the message
is picked up loud and clear

Fire of Insight
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Forum Posts: 110

NaPoWriMo 21/30 for April 21st, 2017
Villanelle No: 21

Author’s Note:
This is a Terzanelle; see yesterday’s entry (day 20, page 40, 5 entries down) for further explanation.


This is the job of writers and saints
turn up at the desk obeying the call
and do so alone, with profound constraint

sit in a manner of wonder, that’s all
open your mind with a curious wait
turn up at the desk obeying the call

an angel is guarding your muse at the gate
so none of your foes will suffer to strike
open your mind with a curious wait

with freedom to be just do what you like
filling your heart with a permanent smile
so none of your foes will suffer to strike

expressing yourself without any guile
turn up at the desk with a pen in your hand
filling your heart with a permanent smile

this is the way, the only demand
this is the job of writers and saints
turn up at the desk with a pen in your hand
and do so alone, with profound constraint.

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