Category: NaPoWriMo 2017

My Poetry, NaPoWriMo 2017, Poetry8 Comments

NaPoWriMo 30/30: Because This is Life

Charlotte Hamrick

Every morning we’re all still here. Well, most of us. We’ve survived the unknowable night when anything can happen and often does. It used to be monsters in the closet or under the bed, now they’re our bosses, our elected officials, even our neighbors and they prowl the day as well as the night. The news du jour catches us up on the past eight hours, the latest mass killing, the newest snafu in congress, the highest threat to humankind, while a tornado or snowstorm has devastated thousands. But still. We get up and move forward. Eat breakfast with our … Continue reading NaPoWriMo 30/30: Because This is Life

My Poetry, NaPoWriMo 2017, Poetry8 Comments

NaPoWriMo 29/30: Thyme in My Pocket

Charlotte Hamrick

Thyme in my Pocket (After Lucille Clifton) I tucked a sprig of thyme in my pocket for courage, thinking about how it grows in the mountains between rocks in poor soil. I was climbing my own mountain, feet buried in poor soil to my knees. The Romans burned thyme as incense and bathed in its fragrant waters before battle. I rubbed the sprig between my fingers, absorbing its oil to assist me in battle for a new life. *** Prompt via napowrimo.net: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, … Continue reading NaPoWriMo 29/30: Thyme in My Pocket

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NaPoWriMo 24/30: A Basket of Implorables

Charlotte Hamrick

A Basket of Implorables In a land not so far away, discontent boiled like oil waiting for a witch. Two would-be leaders vowed in different ways to bring stability to the land – one spoke bluntly with incendiary rage, the other spoke in whispers behind his hand – but the more they spoke, the wilder the crowd became, filling the streets with stomping feet and pitchforks. Louder they screamed, larger they grew but among the mobs were three small voices named Tolerance, Empathy, and Humility who nipped at their heels and tugged at their coattails. Finding the three irrelevant, they … Continue reading NaPoWriMo 24/30: A Basket of Implorables

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Napowrimo 22/30: A Gardening Man

Charlotte Hamrick

When I saw you working in the garden, how tenderly you handled the newly-sprouted plants, the attention you gave to the soil mix, your practiced eye navigating the perfect spot for planting, I knew you were a man mindful of life’s small but necessary details. I knew you were someone with whom I wanted to spend my millions of moments. *** Continue reading Napowrimo 22/30: A Gardening Man

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Napowrimo 21/30: A Matter of Necessity

Charlotte Hamrick

A Matter of Necessity “You’re not supposed to leave the house without your cell.” You might have to think for yourself with no one tracking your whereabouts ready at a moments notice to receive your call. What would you do if aliens abducted you, unable to call 911? Without an hourly selfie, your followers might unfriend you, not to mention leaving them waiting on your indispensable opinion of whatever is trending. Plus, you’d be forced to participate IRL without the virtual world at your fingertips. Imagine! *** Prompt via napowrimo.net: Write a poem that incorporates overheard speech. Continue reading Napowrimo 21/30: A Matter of Necessity

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Napowrimo 20/30: Counting Time

Charlotte Hamrick

Counting Time There aren’t enough hours in a day to rescue a moth trapped indoors to count the magnolias on the tree to watch the cat meander down the fence line to make a cake from scratch to polish my silver baby spoon to fill the pots and plant the seeds to mend the tattered quilt to call a friend to soak in bath salts to find the Big Dipper to lie down with a quiet mind. *** Continue reading Napowrimo 20/30: Counting Time

My Poetry, NaPoWriMo 2017, Photography, Poetry1 Comment

Napowrimo 19/30: Park Avenue

Charlotte Hamrick

Park Avenue Holding the photo I feel a piece of me transported back to that place, that day. The soft grey and white of an overcast sky, the growl and clang of the street, people hurrying to wherever they’re going, every color of the rainbow in a steady stream of aliveness. The smell of fresh morning coffee from a smiling Turk. The day spread out before us, surprises about to pop. Continue reading Napowrimo 19/30: Park Avenue