National Poetry Writing Month - NaPoWriMo 2019
#NaPoWriMo2019
Poems taking part in NaPoWriMo and GloPoWriMo 2019. National Poetry Writing Month takes place in April. Join us each year, and write a poem a day for the whole month (30 poems in 30 days).
A New Waste
There’s nothing and everything traditional
about myself. And even though you bring me
rare and exotic offerings to this table of myself,
of a retentive spirit with suspicions, I sniff
at your lack of knowledge of such cuisine.
I turn to race to the high country for fresh air
and a barn-sour mode of transportation
before my city insides knot. Yet in my flight
I feel the pull as my primitive hunger gets the
better of my expired wanderlust despite your
patrician ignorance. This naked nature’s girl
sick with drink in the wilderness....
about myself. And even though you bring me
rare and exotic offerings to this table of myself,
of a retentive spirit with suspicions, I sniff
at your lack of knowledge of such cuisine.
I turn to race to the high country for fresh air
and a barn-sour mode of transportation
before my city insides knot. Yet in my flight
I feel the pull as my primitive hunger gets the
better of my expired wanderlust despite your
patrician ignorance. This naked nature’s girl
sick with drink in the wilderness....
#relationships
#lover
#NaPoWriMo2019
675 reads
10 Comments
Lakeside 1/30
You can spot his festivities,
twin blossoms swiveling
with his awareness
one step at a time. Passer-bys
confuse tenderness
for tenterhooks.
Eye sirens like pulsar stars,
they shutter shriller than,
and then, the trees. Subject
walks along the bank
and is the subject of a panel
at the American
Natural History Museum-
headlined under how lampshades
change and charge the walls
in dreams of information gathering
at the edge of black holes, there
endless light thinly licks
the...
twin blossoms swiveling
with his awareness
one step at a time. Passer-bys
confuse tenderness
for tenterhooks.
Eye sirens like pulsar stars,
they shutter shriller than,
and then, the trees. Subject
walks along the bank
and is the subject of a panel
at the American
Natural History Museum-
headlined under how lampshades
change and charge the walls
in dreams of information gathering
at the edge of black holes, there
endless light thinly licks
the...
#nature
#identity
#surreal #NaPoWriMo2019
#surreal #NaPoWriMo2019
22 reads
3 Comments
Lakeside 2/30
I ring them into the digits
made for pressing eyes, for touch
avows to mold an
earthside
vision, in how I parse the effect
and cause of what makes the turtle
abandon its log, the
clouded
water plops a three-
dimensional sound of murk
straight above as its
shell
is blanketed of depths, can’t help think
the water is what I breathe, as
movement is everything
there.
And the sky high-
lights the ascension of what is
thrown up, displaced, ...
made for pressing eyes, for touch
avows to mold an
earthside
vision, in how I parse the effect
and cause of what makes the turtle
abandon its log, the
clouded
water plops a three-
dimensional sound of murk
straight above as its
shell
is blanketed of depths, can’t help think
the water is what I breathe, as
movement is everything
there.
And the sky high-
lights the ascension of what is
thrown up, displaced, ...
#nature
#surreal
#NaPoWriMo2019 #identity
#NaPoWriMo2019 #identity
26 reads
4 Comments
and I
Would anyone look for me,
He asked.
Not really, not tonight.
Stuck in a room somewhere -
Like a child about to be scolded,
I looked back at him -
Staring me down.
Air thick with something and I still can't think straight,
"Spill,"
He told me,
And I do.
Just a little bit above the sound of song playing -
I say the sordid,
I say the harsh -
The sprinkle
Of gentle mercies,
The scratched up melodies with it.
And by midnight,
He spills his.
By this moonlight,
Nothing was...
He asked.
Not really, not tonight.
Stuck in a room somewhere -
Like a child about to be scolded,
I looked back at him -
Staring me down.
Air thick with something and I still can't think straight,
"Spill,"
He told me,
And I do.
Just a little bit above the sound of song playing -
I say the sordid,
I say the harsh -
The sprinkle
Of gentle mercies,
The scratched up melodies with it.
And by midnight,
He spills his.
By this moonlight,
Nothing was...
#depression
#dark
#bipolar
#narrative
#NaPoWriMo2019
1308 reads
6 Comments
Day Two
It's day two
but really day four hundred ninety two
where my first thought is of you
where my eyes open
and picture your blues
still floating in my dream
desperately I scroll
thru every last page
every scene
still scrambling in my brain
not knowing where we left off
so I begin again
knocking on your door
lost on a road unkown
only hoping to find my way
you offer up a place to stay
and I oblige
your fire simmers against the chill
as our steam it gently sways
and we...
but really day four hundred ninety two
where my first thought is of you
where my eyes open
and picture your blues
still floating in my dream
desperately I scroll
thru every last page
every scene
still scrambling in my brain
not knowing where we left off
so I begin again
knocking on your door
lost on a road unkown
only hoping to find my way
you offer up a place to stay
and I oblige
your fire simmers against the chill
as our steam it gently sways
and we...
#love
#dreams
#NaPoWriMo2019
658 reads
12 Comments
Peru: Notes of an Online Journal
Peru”
To me, there never was much need
To do daily reports beyond
The diary I used to keep,
This girl in grade school, as a rule.
About how bad I was at math,
And routing out my place in line,
And on a map I felt so sure,
I showed where I was born - Peru!
I didn’t know it wasn’t Palms,
I got the west coast part right tho’.
The rest of class was clueless too,
I didn’t stay late after school.
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019
To me, there never was much need
To do daily reports beyond
The diary I used to keep,
This girl in grade school, as a rule.
About how bad I was at math,
And routing out my place in line,
And on a map I felt so sure,
I showed where I was born - Peru!
I didn’t know it wasn’t Palms,
I got the west coast part right tho’.
The rest of class was clueless too,
I didn’t stay late after school.
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019
#childhood
#school
#memories
#NaPoWriMo2019
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
436 reads
5 Comments
Morning's Rise – Day Two
Fast running feet on mountain loam,
With baying dog that runs behind,
A wood that tastes like wind and roam,
Of sunlit pools and melon rind.
In brothers’ yelps and screams descend,
Fast running feet on mountain loam.
We raid the dumps, attacks pretend,
For Playboy mags and Styrofoam.
With sun low bent and calls for home,
Through sandstone spires and redneck roads,
Fast running feet on mountain loam,
With hopes of stew and pie “ah ha-mode.”
We wash – “make sure behind your ears”
With snapping...
With baying dog that runs behind,
A wood that tastes like wind and roam,
Of sunlit pools and melon rind.
In brothers’ yelps and screams descend,
Fast running feet on mountain loam.
We raid the dumps, attacks pretend,
For Playboy mags and Styrofoam.
With sun low bent and calls for home,
Through sandstone spires and redneck roads,
Fast running feet on mountain loam,
With hopes of stew and pie “ah ha-mode.”
We wash – “make sure behind your ears”
With snapping...
#childhood
#home
#NaPoWriMo2019
606 reads
11 Comments
The Game of Tag
The Game of Tag
(Two of 30 -- NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2019)
If I should look
one day
and unable
to find myself,
Slap me,
Please. I promise
to like it,
the pain.
I will ever be
with You only
biding my time.
Soaring and floating
how is it different?
amidst the starlit
universe, I try to wipe
tears from Your eyes
assurance of memories
encouraging no more
no more tears
for it has always been
and been my course
to wait for You
if I got here first.
...
(Two of 30 -- NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2019)
If I should look
one day
and unable
to find myself,
Slap me,
Please. I promise
to like it,
the pain.
I will ever be
with You only
biding my time.
Soaring and floating
how is it different?
amidst the starlit
universe, I try to wipe
tears from Your eyes
assurance of memories
encouraging no more
no more tears
for it has always been
and been my course
to wait for You
if I got here first.
...
#love
#spiritual
#myself #NaPoWriMo2019
#myself #NaPoWriMo2019
498 reads
16 Comments
View to a Fill
You may not think that there is a lot to a hole,
but just ask Dug,
to be severely surprised:
the almighty spectrum of stance and infinite number of perspectives
are crammed into the hole Dug calls home.
Dug digs deep to uncover and catalogue each viewpoint
hoping all those standpoints and vantages
will grow long gangly legs for Dug to perambulate about on:
as Dug is sick of sitting on the fence during debates
without so much as a leg to stand on.
Though Dug is not quite that desperate
to become a flipping frog who hops
from one...
but just ask Dug,
to be severely surprised:
the almighty spectrum of stance and infinite number of perspectives
are crammed into the hole Dug calls home.
Dug digs deep to uncover and catalogue each viewpoint
hoping all those standpoints and vantages
will grow long gangly legs for Dug to perambulate about on:
as Dug is sick of sitting on the fence during debates
without so much as a leg to stand on.
Though Dug is not quite that desperate
to become a flipping frog who hops
from one...
#animals
#PowerOfWords
#NaPoWriMo2019
444 reads
2 Comments
My Poetry
My poetry is like a fine mist,
The verses caress like a tender kiss,
But when I drop ink with a twist of my wrist,
I spit mad bars because I get pissed.
Here’s the gist of it,
I slip the quip in there,
It’s whatever comes up to the surface whenever the spirit moves me,
If there’s a lisp in it,
It’s my speech impediment,
I breathe fire because aside from the ire writing also behooves me.
My verses are a mix of history and mystery,
A puzzle of lost pieces with imagery,
Whatever sounds clever I pull the lever...
The verses caress like a tender kiss,
But when I drop ink with a twist of my wrist,
I spit mad bars because I get pissed.
Here’s the gist of it,
I slip the quip in there,
It’s whatever comes up to the surface whenever the spirit moves me,
If there’s a lisp in it,
It’s my speech impediment,
I breathe fire because aside from the ire writing also behooves me.
My verses are a mix of history and mystery,
A puzzle of lost pieces with imagery,
Whatever sounds clever I pull the lever...
#rhyming
#StreamOfConsciousness
#NaPoWriMo2019
792 reads
2 Comments
E.L.
I lost you last night.
Made sense.
I usually have something of a plan,
but with you for some reason
I was always winging it.
You were above my pay grade-
wish you could hear me
laugh about it now.
For 15 years I wore you
as a kind of clandestine
feather in my cap.
I made some messes,
cleaned them up
and thanked the heavens
that you stuck with me.
We connected,
some place between
the heart and the head.
I’ll miss your pragmatic elegance,
even as...
Made sense.
I usually have something of a plan,
but with you for some reason
I was always winging it.
You were above my pay grade-
wish you could hear me
laugh about it now.
For 15 years I wore you
as a kind of clandestine
feather in my cap.
I made some messes,
cleaned them up
and thanked the heavens
that you stuck with me.
We connected,
some place between
the heart and the head.
I’ll miss your pragmatic elegance,
even as...
#MovingOn
#NaPoWriMo2019
480 reads
11 Comments
[ NaPo 2019 ] Evernescence
Behold! In night sky up there!
How vibrant the light of these
Poets I do declare
traveling from whence cast
'cross unraveling galaxies vast
shining upon our Presents
warming us by degrees;
blazing incarnates recent 'n long Past
decent to masterful greats
Into Universe their wisdom gifted
sifted from All That Is about
through stargates
and there is no doubt -
your poetry radiates words told
directly Heaven-sent to me -
embodied, minded, souled;...
How vibrant the light of these
Poets I do declare
traveling from whence cast
'cross unraveling galaxies vast
shining upon our Presents
warming us by degrees;
blazing incarnates recent 'n long Past
decent to masterful greats
Into Universe their wisdom gifted
sifted from All That Is about
through stargates
and there is no doubt -
your poetry radiates words told
directly Heaven-sent to me -
embodied, minded, souled;...
#love
#universe
#stars
#WritingPoetry
#NaPoWriMo2019
639 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : National Poetry Writing Month - NaPoWriMo 2019
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Ahavati
#NaPoWriMo2019 is curated by Ahavati.