Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017
NEVER AGAIN
Bank St.Pauls
Chancery Lane Holborn
Tottenham Court Road
Oxford Circus Bond St
Marble Arch Lancaster Gate
Closed
Queensway Notting Hill
Down the Portobello
Passed the Ground Floor Bar
And him on the banjo
Sing song miming to a radio
Drop him a ten a fiver and a score
Pick up a half from the bar
At the tavern then back to Bank again
Up the lift to the fourth floor loo
Rack them out
With a David Lloyd Gym Card
And roll the duke of Wellington
Make a flute and blow the tune of ages
Turn the pages of May and June
With a hollow promise of never again
Then back again
Bank St.Pauls
Chancery Lane Holborn
Tottenham Court Road
Oxford Circus Bond St
Marble Arch Lancaster Gate
Closed
Queensway Notting Hill
Down the Portobello
Passed the Ground Floor Bar
And him on the banjo
Sing song miming to a radio
Drop him a ten a fiver and a score
Pick up a half from the bar
At the tavern then back to Bank again
Up the lift to the fourth floor loo
Rack them out
With a David Lloyd Gym Card
And roll the duke of Wellington
Make a flute and blow the tune of ages
Turn the pages of May and June
With a hollow promise of never again
Then back again
April 27--Here Come The Leaves
A million little hands,
uncurling,
grasping for the sun--
How can winter be survived, when
death is inevitable?
Yet they do, and
somehow
the splendor of rebirth, rolls
out carpets of green, when all
else fails, to kill.
It is but for a time,
and a season,
and I shall bask in the buds
and pollen puffs,
while I still can, lest
fickle hoar-frost tendrils peer
around corners,
waiting....
A million little hands,
uncurling,
grasping for the sun--
How can winter be survived, when
death is inevitable?
Yet they do, and
somehow
the splendor of rebirth, rolls
out carpets of green, when all
else fails, to kill.
It is but for a time,
and a season,
and I shall bask in the buds
and pollen puffs,
while I still can, lest
fickle hoar-frost tendrils peer
around corners,
waiting....
Three Dead Kids
Tom, Dick and Harry
By a babbling brook
With their science book
Sitting astride a felled log
They disembowelled a frog
Tom looked to the sky
As an eagle flew by
He shot it
They got it
And ripped it to shreds
Looking for eggs
Still wearing their scientist hat
Dick beheaded a water rat
Using their text book as a guide
They looked intently inside
Ignoring the risk from germs
Harry chopped up live worms
Jam jarred bees removed their stings
Netted butterflies pulling of their wings
In the stream they caught small fish
Put them under foot then gleefully squished
For Tom this was science experimental
For Dick being a dick, it was all incidental
Harry went along with it because he was mental
These three, cruel little shits
Too stupid to be half wits
All three were sick in the head
Preferring things that were dead
But on the way home
In a field by the veladrome
They saw a rabbit
They tried to grab it
Tom got it with his knife
And quickly ended its life
It was the best of chases
They bloodied their faces
And walked to the gate
Unaware of their fate
They met Dom, Mick and Hairy
Three pitbulls, real scary
Ready for scarring
Frothing an snarling
Dom ripped out Tom’s throat
Mick snapped of Dick’s dick and scrote
Hairy opened Harry’s rib cage
Three kids screaming dogs in a rage
Three kids dead
The dogs have been fed
And for all this drama
I now believe in karma
Tom, Dick and Harry
By a babbling brook
With their science book
Sitting astride a felled log
They disembowelled a frog
Tom looked to the sky
As an eagle flew by
He shot it
They got it
And ripped it to shreds
Looking for eggs
Still wearing their scientist hat
Dick beheaded a water rat
Using their text book as a guide
They looked intently inside
Ignoring the risk from germs
Harry chopped up live worms
Jam jarred bees removed their stings
Netted butterflies pulling of their wings
In the stream they caught small fish
Put them under foot then gleefully squished
For Tom this was science experimental
For Dick being a dick, it was all incidental
Harry went along with it because he was mental
These three, cruel little shits
Too stupid to be half wits
All three were sick in the head
Preferring things that were dead
But on the way home
In a field by the veladrome
They saw a rabbit
They tried to grab it
Tom got it with his knife
And quickly ended its life
It was the best of chases
They bloodied their faces
And walked to the gate
Unaware of their fate
They met Dom, Mick and Hairy
Three pitbulls, real scary
Ready for scarring
Frothing an snarling
Dom ripped out Tom’s throat
Mick snapped of Dick’s dick and scrote
Hairy opened Harry’s rib cage
Three kids screaming dogs in a rage
Three kids dead
The dogs have been fed
And for all this drama
I now believe in karma
XXVII. Experience: Integration Phase 7,
Married with Children
I.
There are many uneven variables
that magnetize two individuals
toward their respective centers;
the elemental core of their Being.
Gravitational alignment isnt
a navigated destination, but a
carefully plotted trajectory course
through a sphere of experience.
It's difficult to wholly ascertain
the hows and whys of ritual bonding
between two Sentients, especially
from this earthly perspective.
The flattened layer of the third
dimension limits a periscopic
extension beyond the encasement
of our watery Being toward Heaven.
We temper ignorance with promises
of a vast forever from a tiny Now,
as though there were no possibilty
of transmutation into the future.
We painfully discover Truth through
resistance to change, until we learn
to let go and Live, or hold onto
the past until it destroys us both.
II.
I was 22 and a single mother by
choice; I hid the pregnancy because
I wasn't in Love with the father
but wanted the baby regardless.
I had the child alone, still recall the look
on the nurse's face when she asked who
she could show him to; I said, No one.
She showed him to everyone on the floor.
He was a single father not by choice
but circumstamce; had caught his wife
and best friend in bed together coming
home early from work one evening.
We clicked, had our differences, raised
our children, and inevitably separated.
Admitted we'd come as far as we
could in our respective togetherness.
My marriage was a not a scary movie
Quite the opposite; quiet and dull living
within the schedules of work routines,
home obligations, and baseball games.
We realized 20 years after-the-fact that
the relationship was based on need
verses Love. The ins and outs of
divorce details aren't important.
What matters is that you're willing
to admit the Truth and Gracefully
let go of what was for what will be;
for that blue dot turning toward you.
The one bringing you light and
shadows, and fresh new moments
filled with brand new variables
you may have dreamed about once,
But forgotten through revolving lives.
III.
Who is to say why some marriages
work and others totally collapse.
Or why some end in murder and/or
others suicide. I was lucky, I guess.
There's a humbling aspect to Being
Truthfully Honest in hopes it's accepted
the way intended. That both parties
are evolved enough to Live and let Live.
That along our continued path we
learn that each moment is a step
that changes as quickly as the next;
and all any of us can do is be ready.
Ready not to promise what we can't,
but to try with all we have to respect
the Love between us in this moment,
and its own evolution into the next.
What more could we possibly expect;
What else could we possibly give.
~
Married with Children
I.
There are many uneven variables
that magnetize two individuals
toward their respective centers;
the elemental core of their Being.
Gravitational alignment isnt
a navigated destination, but a
carefully plotted trajectory course
through a sphere of experience.
It's difficult to wholly ascertain
the hows and whys of ritual bonding
between two Sentients, especially
from this earthly perspective.
The flattened layer of the third
dimension limits a periscopic
extension beyond the encasement
of our watery Being toward Heaven.
We temper ignorance with promises
of a vast forever from a tiny Now,
as though there were no possibilty
of transmutation into the future.
We painfully discover Truth through
resistance to change, until we learn
to let go and Live, or hold onto
the past until it destroys us both.
II.
I was 22 and a single mother by
choice; I hid the pregnancy because
I wasn't in Love with the father
but wanted the baby regardless.
I had the child alone, still recall the look
on the nurse's face when she asked who
she could show him to; I said, No one.
She showed him to everyone on the floor.
He was a single father not by choice
but circumstamce; had caught his wife
and best friend in bed together coming
home early from work one evening.
We clicked, had our differences, raised
our children, and inevitably separated.
Admitted we'd come as far as we
could in our respective togetherness.
My marriage was a not a scary movie
Quite the opposite; quiet and dull living
within the schedules of work routines,
home obligations, and baseball games.
We realized 20 years after-the-fact that
the relationship was based on need
verses Love. The ins and outs of
divorce details aren't important.
What matters is that you're willing
to admit the Truth and Gracefully
let go of what was for what will be;
for that blue dot turning toward you.
The one bringing you light and
shadows, and fresh new moments
filled with brand new variables
you may have dreamed about once,
But forgotten through revolving lives.
III.
Who is to say why some marriages
work and others totally collapse.
Or why some end in murder and/or
others suicide. I was lucky, I guess.
There's a humbling aspect to Being
Truthfully Honest in hopes it's accepted
the way intended. That both parties
are evolved enough to Live and let Live.
That along our continued path we
learn that each moment is a step
that changes as quickly as the next;
and all any of us can do is be ready.
Ready not to promise what we can't,
but to try with all we have to respect
the Love between us in this moment,
and its own evolution into the next.
What more could we possibly expect;
What else could we possibly give.
~
April 28 ( NaPoWriMo 2017 )
Two Naked Poets
Within my nakedness implied
By words I whisper as I sit astride,
Entreat the heart for you to hold
The list of doubts to heal from & be whole.
The part I make myself most bare
Is put my trust in you & hope you care
Of all else that takes precedence
From these to try and finally make more sense.
You know yourself the risk I take;
It was with me you placed your trust to make,
And ever since that fateful day
Locked doors are flung aside to show the way.
'Twas early on when we first met
You told your story and then made a bet;
Of drink, abuse & suicide,
That leaving nothing from me I'd decide.
And in a flash I knew right then
I'd want to stay, & be more than your friend.
Each day I've been & stood my ground,
You've helped with answers to my story found.
Though we must sleep in separate beds
Denuded each of us from final threads,
We never judge our covered books
Instead we open wide to anxious looks.
To think of me a lover strong
Who often struggles when she gets it wrong,
But just like me you understand;
We do much more, two poets, hearts in hand.
Rhyme scheme: A/A/B/B
Syllabic line count per stanza: 8/10/8/10
Truth
I'm a fuck up
I always have been
no more excuses
brutal honesty is needed
if it doesn't cut
the infection doesn't drain
I wanted to relapse yesterday
thoughts of my family
flooded my head
what if I died that way?
or worse yet gave myself a stroke
& was left alive
then have to face them
with what I've been up to
I didn't relapse
avoided that trap
for the day
I wrote myself
a confrontational poem
it was ugly
mean & lethal with it's truth
though the best poems
confront you in some manner
this one was in my face hardcore
I posted yesterday then deleted it
realized it was written to me
in the way I needed to hear things
part of me is thug hard
from my times
in the back alleys & gutters
hardcore truth
is all I understand
some feel bad for me
they should hug my family
who have prevailed through
the worst of it with me
so here is that poem
to confront me on day 28
Dear Cunt
I look in and I'm unsure
of what's there
I look hard
give my soul a cold stare
it may be evil
with no good stories to tell
so much destruction
wrought by my choices
I don't have alcohol
to fuck my brain
tell me how wonderful I am
no numb today
don't feel bad for me
I am an enemy
a phene
who relapses
without thought
of the waves I'm making
with the rocks I've thrown
in still waters
tell me to get it straight
to get off my ass
do something about it
give me full brutal honesty
this is the real me
I'm a delusional cunt
who is just starting to give a fuck
Copyright © 2017 Crimsin. All Rights Reserved
#29 of 30
I'm a fuck up
I always have been
no more excuses
brutal honesty is needed
if it doesn't cut
the infection doesn't drain
I wanted to relapse yesterday
thoughts of my family
flooded my head
what if I died that way?
or worse yet gave myself a stroke
& was left alive
then have to face them
with what I've been up to
I didn't relapse
avoided that trap
for the day
I wrote myself
a confrontational poem
it was ugly
mean & lethal with it's truth
though the best poems
confront you in some manner
this one was in my face hardcore
I posted yesterday then deleted it
realized it was written to me
in the way I needed to hear things
part of me is thug hard
from my times
in the back alleys & gutters
hardcore truth
is all I understand
some feel bad for me
they should hug my family
who have prevailed through
the worst of it with me
so here is that poem
to confront me on day 28
Dear Cunt
I look in and I'm unsure
of what's there
I look hard
give my soul a cold stare
it may be evil
with no good stories to tell
so much destruction
wrought by my choices
I don't have alcohol
to fuck my brain
tell me how wonderful I am
no numb today
don't feel bad for me
I am an enemy
a phene
who relapses
without thought
of the waves I'm making
with the rocks I've thrown
in still waters
tell me to get it straight
to get off my ass
do something about it
give me full brutal honesty
this is the real me
I'm a delusional cunt
who is just starting to give a fuck
Copyright © 2017 Crimsin. All Rights Reserved
#29 of 30
Quotes For My Funeral
the more accepting;
the lessor
accepted you are
forgiving is not
a quality
you learn by mistake
sin is attributed
to blind faith
though it's a human condition
gluttony does not
apply to
food and drink alone
billboards and social media
bring laundry
to the open eye
self destruction is choice
it's aptly called
Social Suicide in my book
those who wrong you
are the fingers
in your face, calling your name
he who sleeps with your wife
accuses you
of sleeping with his
he who calls kindness
on his own name
doesn't know kindness at all
the advert for doing
good
is the advert doing bad
silence in the heart
provides
silence for the heart
oh give me blessings
enlarge my territory
and put angels in my bed
free drugs are like taxation
they only look good
in a credit application form
expecting a return of value
for helpfulness
is unhelpful in itself
The Gods aren't crazy
they only provide for the ones
who are living
death is found in sleeplessness
sleeplessness was never a real word
so dying is a unreal wish
her body provides warmth
this is a false security perpetrator
in the mind
and a danger to the heart
the angle you stare at on a screen
is directly proportional
to what you see in the mirror
The seven dwarfs
always saw Snow White
as a cleaning maiden
they never had love as a motive
Eggs are cool, chocolate ones are cooler
but those that are fertilized
owe apologies to the world
Suicide is not an option that saves
it's a credit account
in deficit for the
afterlife
[☆]
29th - NaPoWriMo -
was the pre offensive
Offence
Anonymous
tough girl (28th)
she’s not a girly girl
nothing about her is frilly or pink
she’s smooth blues
and cool exterior
no ribbons or bows
but if you can crack her shell
she’s softer than you’d think
she’s a little bit of sugar
with an extra dose of spice
tough girl in demeanor
but gentle on the inside
you won’t find her in dresses
no fancy heels or hose
more often than not
her hair is messy and loose
comfy jeans and bare feet
she smells of nature
sunshine and the beach
watch yourself when interacting
or you’ll find she’s full of sass
no time for your nonsense
or any second face
she's looking for a real that lasts
she is simple complication
a lot of denim
and a little bit of lace
she’s not a girly girl
nothing about her is frilly or pink
she’s smooth blues
and cool exterior
no ribbons or bows
but if you can crack her shell
she’s softer than you’d think
she’s a little bit of sugar
with an extra dose of spice
tough girl in demeanor
but gentle on the inside
you won’t find her in dresses
no fancy heels or hose
more often than not
her hair is messy and loose
comfy jeans and bare feet
she smells of nature
sunshine and the beach
watch yourself when interacting
or you’ll find she’s full of sass
no time for your nonsense
or any second face
she's looking for a real that lasts
she is simple complication
a lot of denim
and a little bit of lace
Welcome to 'Thank God This Is Almost Over Friday', Team Napo Poets! It's Day 28 and we're not lookin' back! We're T-minus 3 days out and have spotted land!
We're holding strong at 21 travel-weary but accomplished Poets eligible for that trophy! Make sure you support them on the final leg of this challenge!
Ahavati
JohnnyBlaze
mel44
RevolutionAl
Earth_Child
Jade-Pandora
Hepcat61
LobodeSanPedro
MadameLavender
DaisyGrace
Viddax
Whale
FromtheAsh
Magnetron
MaryWalker
PsycoticMastermind
Anarchitect
Josh
SatansSperm
Crimsin_Unveiling
David_MacLeod
Congratulations to today's featured Team Napo Poet and Co-Host, Ahavati. Be sure to support her and all Team Napo members!
https://m.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10154508509648665.1073741826.148635498664/10155184839283665/?type=3&source=48&__tn__=E
We're holding strong at 21 travel-weary but accomplished Poets eligible for that trophy! Make sure you support them on the final leg of this challenge!
Ahavati
JohnnyBlaze
mel44
RevolutionAl
Earth_Child
Jade-Pandora
Hepcat61
LobodeSanPedro
MadameLavender
DaisyGrace
Viddax
Whale
FromtheAsh
Magnetron
MaryWalker
PsycoticMastermind
Anarchitect
Josh
SatansSperm
Crimsin_Unveiling
David_MacLeod
Congratulations to today's featured Team Napo Poet and Co-Host, Ahavati. Be sure to support her and all Team Napo members!
https://m.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10154508509648665.1073741826.148635498664/10155184839283665/?type=3&source=48&__tn__=E
You're Kidding Me, Right?
It's not very often I get riled up
but when I do, it's usually because
some one says some thing
that makes me question whether
the Human Race is capable of
surviving its own obliviousness to
what's going on right before its eyes
Paraphrasing
a seemingly innocent question posed:
Can Megan Fox's acting career survive the negative
comments she made about director Michael Bay?
I found my head wanting to explode
Survive what exactly?
Whatever she said
that resulted in his replacing her
in a third Transformers franchise film
with a Victoria's Secret model
having zero acting experience
says enough in itself
but I will go on to add, Yes
her ACTING career will be just fine
despite
being cast as nothing more than
eye candy in his first two flicks
simply for boys to drool over
Same goes for Fox's
replacement's ACTING career
and her replacement's
replacement's ACTING career
whose names I can't even remember
due to the characters they played
having no character whatsoever
What's more frightening than
any scary movie ever made is
that people this clueless about
their own immediate environment
are allowed to vote for politicians
who take charge of governments
I continue to weep for Humanity
It's not very often I get riled up
but when I do, it's usually because
some one says some thing
that makes me question whether
the Human Race is capable of
surviving its own obliviousness to
what's going on right before its eyes
Paraphrasing
a seemingly innocent question posed:
Can Megan Fox's acting career survive the negative
comments she made about director Michael Bay?
I found my head wanting to explode
Survive what exactly?
Whatever she said
that resulted in his replacing her
in a third Transformers franchise film
with a Victoria's Secret model
having zero acting experience
says enough in itself
but I will go on to add, Yes
her ACTING career will be just fine
despite
being cast as nothing more than
eye candy in his first two flicks
simply for boys to drool over
Same goes for Fox's
replacement's ACTING career
and her replacement's
replacement's ACTING career
whose names I can't even remember
due to the characters they played
having no character whatsoever
What's more frightening than
any scary movie ever made is
that people this clueless about
their own immediate environment
are allowed to vote for politicians
who take charge of governments
I continue to weep for Humanity
April 28, 2017
CYCLE IV: AIR
Reaping the Whrilwind
With flaming arc and ozone’s choking breathe,
The torren’ skies of lifely hurricanes’
Erode of Earth and seas’ firm underneath.
So form’ed structures’ fall toss boats insane.
As drowning shards would scuttle all mind’s hope
And strand on isle’s desert, in madness owned,
Beyond the guardsman’s call and rescue's rope.
With only silent voice, wind’s howl for home.
Yet on the gale, from desolation’s wall,
Came versely words that calmed my broken mind.
A tiger’s cry drove past depression’s squall,
In senryu’s Zen laughter, self unwinds.
Without the mind-storm’s wreak I’d never found
Her poet’s voice, my island’s scared ground.
CYCLE IV: AIR
Reaping the Whrilwind
With flaming arc and ozone’s choking breathe,
The torren’ skies of lifely hurricanes’
Erode of Earth and seas’ firm underneath.
So form’ed structures’ fall toss boats insane.
As drowning shards would scuttle all mind’s hope
And strand on isle’s desert, in madness owned,
Beyond the guardsman’s call and rescue's rope.
With only silent voice, wind’s howl for home.
Yet on the gale, from desolation’s wall,
Came versely words that calmed my broken mind.
A tiger’s cry drove past depression’s squall,
In senryu’s Zen laughter, self unwinds.
Without the mind-storm’s wreak I’d never found
Her poet’s voice, my island’s scared ground.
28/30
The Poem That Never Was
I don't know about you
but I'm not interested
in reading the same poem
you wrote the day before
written by someone else
the day before that
and so on
There are poems riddled
with forgivable cliches
And then there are other poems
cliches in and of themselves
Most of you
newbs to the exciting world of poetry
will eventually come to this understanding
and wholeheartedly agree with it
challenging yourself to write
not just a poem every day, but
a poem that never was
The Poem That Never Was
I don't know about you
but I'm not interested
in reading the same poem
you wrote the day before
written by someone else
the day before that
and so on
There are poems riddled
with forgivable cliches
And then there are other poems
cliches in and of themselves
Most of you
newbs to the exciting world of poetry
will eventually come to this understanding
and wholeheartedly agree with it
challenging yourself to write
not just a poem every day, but
a poem that never was
28/30
The Prototype
Silicone
stretched over synthetic sinew
flesh and bone
Loverboy, Loverbot, whatever
I've finally got you
all alone to myself
Would have lived in a box
collecting dust on a warehouse shelf
but now your in my bed
about to receive the best head
of your sheltered life
Normally, I'm into girls
but tonight you'll be into me
I can't imagine a better man in my life
than one who won't pretend
he'll call me
The Prototype
Silicone
stretched over synthetic sinew
flesh and bone
Loverboy, Loverbot, whatever
I've finally got you
all alone to myself
Would have lived in a box
collecting dust on a warehouse shelf
but now your in my bed
about to receive the best head
of your sheltered life
Normally, I'm into girls
but tonight you'll be into me
I can't imagine a better man in my life
than one who won't pretend
he'll call me
28/30
The Bone Cabinet
There is so much
life affirming poetry
within of you
I run the scalpel
in a single stroke
down your sternum
Sawing through
the deadbolts of your chest
keeping rib cage firmly secured
Lay my hands on the best
kept locked inside your
bone cabinet of creative wonders
thump thump
still is beating
thump thump
heart if a poet in my hands
thump thump
treating it with all the care in the world
thump thump
as I'm eating
thump thump
feeling it slide down my throat
thump thump
the rhythmic bass
every lyrical note
keeping pace
with the beautiful words that you wrote
The Bone Cabinet
There is so much
life affirming poetry
within of you
I run the scalpel
in a single stroke
down your sternum
Sawing through
the deadbolts of your chest
keeping rib cage firmly secured
Lay my hands on the best
kept locked inside your
bone cabinet of creative wonders
thump thump
still is beating
thump thump
heart if a poet in my hands
thump thump
treating it with all the care in the world
thump thump
as I'm eating
thump thump
feeling it slide down my throat
thump thump
the rhythmic bass
every lyrical note
keeping pace
with the beautiful words that you wrote
Greater Than Me
Catholic, my mother
Believed in God
Married a man
With a previous wife
I was baptised differently
I was raised
With religion
But never taught faith
Believing unworthy
Impious incidentally
Flimsy at best
My religious belief
Why condemned
For another’s sin
Agnostic consequently
My divergence
Chose not to presume
Any one at fault
Yet doubts unveiled
My dichotomy
A paradox seen
Disconnected from church
Truth was sought
I pledged no alliance
Finding spirituality
No specific doctrine
Reigns my devotion
But willingness to believe
In a greater power
With sincerity
Catholic, my mother
Believed in God
Married a man
With a previous wife
I was baptised differently
I was raised
With religion
But never taught faith
Believing unworthy
Impious incidentally
Flimsy at best
My religious belief
Why condemned
For another’s sin
Agnostic consequently
My divergence
Chose not to presume
Any one at fault
Yet doubts unveiled
My dichotomy
A paradox seen
Disconnected from church
Truth was sought
I pledged no alliance
Finding spirituality
No specific doctrine
Reigns my devotion
But willingness to believe
In a greater power
With sincerity
