Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017
Sleepy
Sleep calls me, like death to the grave
It’s been 48 hours and I feel like a slave
Insomnia has fought and won against sedation
But both my eyes feel like pools of stagnation
My eyes feel heavy like a hypnotist’s instruction
I feel the weight of sleep like a witch’s seduction
I yawn like a hippo and sound off like a lion
Although I’m not sad both eyes just start crying
I lie down on my bed and pillow my head
My eyes blink out a message of dread
I still have this reluctance to shut both my eyes
I may never bare witness to sun worthy skies
But I’m so fuckin tired; I can fight it no more
As my mind melds in with the bedrooms décor
As my body gently drifts outside itself
And it feels needs like a maid on the shelf
But here’s the rub:
How do we know if it’s death or sleep?
Should we pray to the Lord, our souls to keep?
Is it some natural sleep or death come calling?
Is it time to die or dream of falling?
Life and death are states of being
Eyes, blinded are capable of seeing
Whether Christian, Hindu, Muslim or Jew
Like a thief in the night death will come for you
Will it be then, could it be now
You’ll never know the when and the how
It’s out of my hands, this sleep I must take
It’ll tell you all tomorrow if I actually wake
Sleep calls me, like death to the grave
It’s been 48 hours and I feel like a slave
Insomnia has fought and won against sedation
But both my eyes feel like pools of stagnation
My eyes feel heavy like a hypnotist’s instruction
I feel the weight of sleep like a witch’s seduction
I yawn like a hippo and sound off like a lion
Although I’m not sad both eyes just start crying
I lie down on my bed and pillow my head
My eyes blink out a message of dread
I still have this reluctance to shut both my eyes
I may never bare witness to sun worthy skies
But I’m so fuckin tired; I can fight it no more
As my mind melds in with the bedrooms décor
As my body gently drifts outside itself
And it feels needs like a maid on the shelf
But here’s the rub:
How do we know if it’s death or sleep?
Should we pray to the Lord, our souls to keep?
Is it some natural sleep or death come calling?
Is it time to die or dream of falling?
Life and death are states of being
Eyes, blinded are capable of seeing
Whether Christian, Hindu, Muslim or Jew
Like a thief in the night death will come for you
Will it be then, could it be now
You’ll never know the when and the how
It’s out of my hands, this sleep I must take
It’ll tell you all tomorrow if I actually wake
Ahavati said:
Whoo hooo! Please put your trays upright because we have touch down, Poets! If you look out your right window you'll see Africa Team Napo!! We have one more unboarding before heading for America via England!
Congratulations, Al! You did AN AMAZING JOB! I am so proud of you!
Well done to you and Mr Blaze
Your running of this comp was unique and on point!
Was a really good month!
♡
Whoo hooo! Please put your trays upright because we have touch down, Poets! If you look out your right window you'll see Africa Team Napo!! We have one more unboarding before heading for America via England!
Congratulations, Al! You did AN AMAZING JOB! I am so proud of you!
Well done to you and Mr Blaze
Your running of this comp was unique and on point!
Was a really good month!
♡
RevolutionAL said:
Well done to you and Mr Blaze
Your running of this comp was unique and on point!
Was a really good month!
♡
Well I'll just wait for him to step out and take a bow with me.
Thanks so much for participating, Al. It's good to see you back in these waters - don't swim off now, ya he'yah?
Well done to you and Mr Blaze
Your running of this comp was unique and on point!
Was a really good month!
♡
Well I'll just wait for him to step out and take a bow with me.
Thanks so much for participating, Al. It's good to see you back in these waters - don't swim off now, ya he'yah?
Anonymous
29/30
The Purple Poetry Power Station
It's time to get it on
Put a quarter in the slot
Activate the Magnetron
Give me all you got
on dance floor
No, no, no
We're locking the door
Put you on the spot
Do the Rubber Chicken
Next, the Robbie Robot
Then, Stir the Witch's Cauldron
For good measure
Midget Toss The Leprechaun
into the pot
On the dance floor
Not just a lot
Give me all you got
Wrap it up
with Finding Nemo
Be creepy as Marylin Manson
Do the Gothic Emo
You only get one chance
one chance, to make
an ass of yourself
On the dance floor
like no one's watching
The Purple Poetry Power Station
It's time to get it on
Put a quarter in the slot
Activate the Magnetron
Give me all you got
on dance floor
No, no, no
We're locking the door
Put you on the spot
Do the Rubber Chicken
Next, the Robbie Robot
Then, Stir the Witch's Cauldron
For good measure
Midget Toss The Leprechaun
into the pot
On the dance floor
Not just a lot
Give me all you got
Wrap it up
with Finding Nemo
Be creepy as Marylin Manson
Do the Gothic Emo
You only get one chance
one chance, to make
an ass of yourself
On the dance floor
like no one's watching
Anonymous
Ahavati said:
Well I'll just wait for him to step out and take a bow with me.
Thanks so much for participating, Al. It's good to see you back in these waters - don't swim off now, ya he'yah?
Who's up for going another 30 days?
Ahavati --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Johnny
Well I'll just wait for him to step out and take a bow with me.
Thanks so much for participating, Al. It's good to see you back in these waters - don't swim off now, ya he'yah?
Who's up for going another 30 days?
Ahavati --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Johnny
JohnnyBlaze said:
Who's up for going another 30 days?
Ahavati --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Johnny
*cough sputter hack cough*
Johnny --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Ahavati
Who's up for going another 30 days?
Ahavati --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Johnny
*cough sputter hack cough*
Johnny --->http://f1.ifrm.com/11885/77/emo/frypan.gif<--- Ahavati
Life in Monochrome
I am not normal
never have been
never will be
never wanted to be
only ever wanted
to be me
I will snort
the lines
of conformity
off the mirror
of society
& then blow them
in your face
& smile
while I pick
the pocket
in your soul
& then pawn
your most prized
possession
Through poetry
I try to reclaim
fragments of myself
lost in the crash
a howling chaos
white screaming blindness
my bones bleached
by the static
I became a receptacle
for
nothingness
but the deja vu
of resounding pain
the scars became locks
of flesh on the surface
hiding away the parts of me
that I could not bear
on the inside
my sketches became
nothing more than reflections
of what I saw
not what I felt
& I could no longer
translate
my soul into notes
I had to reteach myself
to breath
so this is me breathing
I am not normal
never have been
never will be
never wanted to be
04292017
I am not normal
never have been
never will be
never wanted to be
only ever wanted
to be me
I will snort
the lines
of conformity
off the mirror
of society
& then blow them
in your face
& smile
while I pick
the pocket
in your soul
& then pawn
your most prized
possession
Through poetry
I try to reclaim
fragments of myself
lost in the crash
a howling chaos
white screaming blindness
my bones bleached
by the static
I became a receptacle
for
nothingness
but the deja vu
of resounding pain
the scars became locks
of flesh on the surface
hiding away the parts of me
that I could not bear
on the inside
my sketches became
nothing more than reflections
of what I saw
not what I felt
& I could no longer
translate
my soul into notes
I had to reteach myself
to breath
so this is me breathing
I am not normal
never have been
never will be
never wanted to be
04292017
last supper (29)
quintessential to connoisseurs
and poets
cops and hookers
Gastronomic bliss
rolled
Grilled
Steamed or boiled
Soft bun
Toasted
Lathered in mustard or ketchup
Or both
Kraut
Relish
Onions
Take me out to the ball game
doesn't matter which
Baseball
futbol
Or football
I prefer Nathan's but only when I'm at Coney Island
otherwise it's papAyas
Anthony says they're the best thing you can get under $5
Yeah, I know that
Lived off them in college
Now
I'm civilized
But I still get up at 2 AM
when I get a craving
Make the 40 minute drive
Get the two for one special with a drink
Always worth the 80 minutes
of my life
It'll be my last supper
If I'm lucky
quintessential to connoisseurs
and poets
cops and hookers
Gastronomic bliss
rolled
Grilled
Steamed or boiled
Soft bun
Toasted
Lathered in mustard or ketchup
Or both
Kraut
Relish
Onions
Take me out to the ball game
doesn't matter which
Baseball
futbol
Or football
I prefer Nathan's but only when I'm at Coney Island
otherwise it's papAyas
Anthony says they're the best thing you can get under $5
Yeah, I know that
Lived off them in college
Now
I'm civilized
But I still get up at 2 AM
when I get a craving
Make the 40 minute drive
Get the two for one special with a drink
Always worth the 80 minutes
of my life
It'll be my last supper
If I'm lucky
HUE
Hell bent or heaven sent
Go with the grain of the wood
Follow the lines with your eyes
mahogany oak and ebony
A box of hues wash and dyes
Where your body will be consumed
No longer will you eat of earth and air
Nor will you find in the fire and earth
The peace found in life
Or the beauty and light
All is right and good
Let this one rattle in your head
Hell bent or heaven sent
Go with the grain of the wood
Follow the lines with your eyes
mahogany oak and ebony
A box of hues wash and dyes
Where your body will be consumed
No longer will you eat of earth and air
Nor will you find in the fire and earth
The peace found in life
Or the beauty and light
All is right and good
Let this one rattle in your head
XXIX. Awareness: Sabbatical
I.
In numerology number 7 is the searcher
of Truth; the underlying surface of face value.
Because in this world nothing is exactly
as it seems and we all innately know that.
To seek, to think, is to begin the homeward
trek to Wisdom. For Wisdom is a Shelter
for those who desire Truth, as materialism
is a shelter for those who rely on the World.
But only Wisdom gives Life to them that
acquire it. Whereas materialism remains
in Death to be grappled over by relatives
and the Internal Revenue Service.
I remember God asking what I wanted most.
I remember not thinking twice about Wisdom.
When He asked Why?, I answered with a question:
With Wisdom could I not gain all all else unto me?
Had I known the price I'd pay for such a gift before
I asked, I would've still chosen it above all else.
II.
A lifetime of being someone else's property
cannot mold a Free Spirit into bondage.
It will atrophy; take it's own breath, leave
behind an empty shell of human flesh.
Wander mindlessly through Life mimicking
daily routine and expectations handed down
by previous generations of women. Monday's
wash, Tuesday's casserole, Wednesday's...
Our lives are written by choiceless dictates
the moment we surrender to someone else's;
and yet the pattern seems a prerequisite
to happiness, or your Life isn't complete.
I had lived two of such lives myself under my
father's roof and then a husband's parish.
Being a minister's wife has to be one of the
most difficult roles because you know the man.
And knowing the human in the cloth meant
facing the pulpit of hypocrisy with Strength.
III.
I vowed to eschew the predictable route
so expected of women here in the south,
until certain of the best course for myself;
I vowed 7 years of celibacy, which evolved
to 15. Incomprehensible to some, but to me
it became the norm. I re-enrolled in collage
for counseling and third world missions.
Served in Central America post revolution.
Built hospitals and schools. Turned down
more marriage proposals than I could count,
because when you're content, you don't seek
change nor anyone to complete your existence.
When you're in the throes of living moment
to moment doing the next thing, society
becomes intrusive. Or perhaps you become
a recluse in the midst of their metropolis.
Then you look in the mirror one morning
or evening, and realize the price you've paid.
IV.
For God never did answer the question I asked.
But, rather than draw riches unto my hands
that I may lack for nothing, Wisdom taught
me to eschew them for Happiness instead.
And rather than draw the Love of a man
upon my breasts, that my nights be warm
and days be filled with service unto us,
Wisdom taught me Peace in Solitude instead.
And rather than draw crowds into my space
that I never be lonely, or that my home be
filled with the fellowship of breaking bread,
Wisdom showed me Beauty of Silence instead.
And rather than gather denizens of books
that my days be consumed with study, Wisdom
taught me the weariness born of such, and
bestowed ample inspiration of Poetry instead.
Though Knowledge be Sorrow and Wisdom grief,
there's no other way to the Shelter of Truth you seek.
...
I.
In numerology number 7 is the searcher
of Truth; the underlying surface of face value.
Because in this world nothing is exactly
as it seems and we all innately know that.
To seek, to think, is to begin the homeward
trek to Wisdom. For Wisdom is a Shelter
for those who desire Truth, as materialism
is a shelter for those who rely on the World.
But only Wisdom gives Life to them that
acquire it. Whereas materialism remains
in Death to be grappled over by relatives
and the Internal Revenue Service.
I remember God asking what I wanted most.
I remember not thinking twice about Wisdom.
When He asked Why?, I answered with a question:
With Wisdom could I not gain all all else unto me?
Had I known the price I'd pay for such a gift before
I asked, I would've still chosen it above all else.
II.
A lifetime of being someone else's property
cannot mold a Free Spirit into bondage.
It will atrophy; take it's own breath, leave
behind an empty shell of human flesh.
Wander mindlessly through Life mimicking
daily routine and expectations handed down
by previous generations of women. Monday's
wash, Tuesday's casserole, Wednesday's...
Our lives are written by choiceless dictates
the moment we surrender to someone else's;
and yet the pattern seems a prerequisite
to happiness, or your Life isn't complete.
I had lived two of such lives myself under my
father's roof and then a husband's parish.
Being a minister's wife has to be one of the
most difficult roles because you know the man.
And knowing the human in the cloth meant
facing the pulpit of hypocrisy with Strength.
III.
I vowed to eschew the predictable route
so expected of women here in the south,
until certain of the best course for myself;
I vowed 7 years of celibacy, which evolved
to 15. Incomprehensible to some, but to me
it became the norm. I re-enrolled in collage
for counseling and third world missions.
Served in Central America post revolution.
Built hospitals and schools. Turned down
more marriage proposals than I could count,
because when you're content, you don't seek
change nor anyone to complete your existence.
When you're in the throes of living moment
to moment doing the next thing, society
becomes intrusive. Or perhaps you become
a recluse in the midst of their metropolis.
Then you look in the mirror one morning
or evening, and realize the price you've paid.
IV.
For God never did answer the question I asked.
But, rather than draw riches unto my hands
that I may lack for nothing, Wisdom taught
me to eschew them for Happiness instead.
And rather than draw the Love of a man
upon my breasts, that my nights be warm
and days be filled with service unto us,
Wisdom taught me Peace in Solitude instead.
And rather than draw crowds into my space
that I never be lonely, or that my home be
filled with the fellowship of breaking bread,
Wisdom showed me Beauty of Silence instead.
And rather than gather denizens of books
that my days be consumed with study, Wisdom
taught me the weariness born of such, and
bestowed ample inspiration of Poetry instead.
Though Knowledge be Sorrow and Wisdom grief,
there's no other way to the Shelter of Truth you seek.
...
