NaPoWriMo 23/30: April
Cool mist on my face I walk without umbrella to feel nature’s breath *** Continue reading NaPoWriMo 23/30: April
Tag: Poetry
Napowrimo 22/30: A Gardening Man
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
Napowrimo 21/30: A Matter of Necessity
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
Napowrimo 20/30: Counting Time
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
Napowrimo 19/30: Park Avenue
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
NaPoWriMo 18/30: Questionable Intelligence
Humans planted man-made beings everywhere, intelligence run amuck. The machine won, unlike humans. *** I decided to do a newspaper blackout today instead of following a prompt. Apparently, this essay by David Ackley, “Hands of a City”, stayed on my mind spawning my stream of thought for this poem. Continue reading NaPoWriMo 18/30: Questionable Intelligence
NaPoWriMo 17/30: Eve of a Cold Moon
Eve of a Cold Moon So briefly, so briefly – a few days of awareness, then you were gone. Still, there’s a space for you that no other ever filled, the abandoned home of a whisper-life not ready for a world such as this. *** Prompt via NaPoWriMo.net: Write a nocturne. In music, a nocturne is a composition meant to be played at night, usually for piano, and with a tender and melancholy sort of sound. Your nocturne should aim to translate this sensibility into poetic form. Continue reading NaPoWriMo 17/30: Eve of a Cold Moon
Napowrimo 16/30: Chromophore
Chromophore Dear one, its a still humid night my hair clings to the back of my neck until an errant breeze momentarily cools my skin and I think of you propped in your netted bed, your carmine-tipped hands fluttering over a canvas or penning a letter of love to your man with green-gold eyes. Your pitted, scarred body wrought with pain but you offered yourself fully, unselfconciously and he saw only the strong woman you are, the steel that encases your moist beating heart that is his. Despite the ache of bone and muscle, your spirit moves light, color, space. … Continue reading Napowrimo 16/30: Chromophore
Napowrimo 15/30: Indecision/In Between
It shimmers, a mirage in the desert. It wafts, a curtain in the breeze. It balances, a water droplet on a leaf tip. A miniscule moment that can change the trajectory of a life. *** Prompt via NaPoWriMo.net: Write a poem that reflects on the nature of being in the middle of something. Continue reading Napowrimo 15/30: Indecision/In Between
Napowrimo: Tropical Wave
Tropical Wave Late summer. Still, stagnant, a pond surface slick with algae. Hot air, stale breath. Down in the depths something stirs from sleep. Lethargy levitates, collides with wind. A vortex is spawned, wilder than a drunken dragon. *** Prompt via napowrimo.net: This is a catch-up post from the prompt for 4/12/17: Write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration and assonance. Continue reading Napowrimo: Tropical Wave
