Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write your own poem that provides five answers to the same question - without ever specifically identifying the question that is being answered." (See napowrimo.net.) 1
I want to kick down the locked door but instead I keep knocking. 2 You need space and time from me but instead I keep talking. 3 I want one full day just to write but instead I keep waiting. 4 You need me to be more than happy but instead I'm complaining. 5 I need to know I'm belonging but instead I keep longing.
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Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a poem that ... joyfully states that 'Everything is Going to Be Amazing.'"(See napowrimo.net.) I couldn't quite get there. But this is where I could get to: my mind is too cold
for hope to grow today but perhaps some seeds are preserved by cold not destroyed perhaps this seed just needs time Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a poem about a very small thing." (See napowrimo.net.) Such a tiny thing
a tear too small to catch your eye you explain you smooth over for you, all now is well but what your hand has smoothed is but a cloth covering a piercing wound dividing flesh bone and blood Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a poem about a very large thing" (or in my case, a very large being). (See napowrimo.net.) You are so big
everpresent all-encompassing like air that we have learned not to see you even as I struggle to see you you see me; fill my lungs moment by moment while my oblivious eyes search on Today's poem responds to the prompt to write a love poem. (See napowrimo.net). I love that you stay.
Others are ladybugs tentatively trying out my proffered finger perching a moment, soon spreading wings to fly away. But you are sunshine soaking into my skin your Vitamin D becoming part of me, unafraid of my shadows you return each day. Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write in a specific form - the nonet! A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second has eight, and so on until you get to the last line, which has just one syllable." (See napowrimo.net). The world, a wave violently breaking
tosses my life in its foaming alone on the open sea but for you, fast asleep rocking in our boat the wind quiets your sure smile my north star Today's poem responds to the prompt "to name your alter-ego, and then describe him/her in detail. Then write in your alter-ego's voice." (See napowrimo.net). She sits upon the curving quill
formed from a willow twig gazing out into her dreams as small as she is big. Is she equal to the task of wielding such a sword? She can but grasp its life-green hilt and cricket-sing a word: my starlight and my shadow are here in page and ink will you come and dance their song or be gone when I blink? Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying." (See napowrimo.net). Absence makes the heart grow fonder
assuming you're not left with the bill. Two heads are better than one assuming you're not a nail. No news is good news assuming you're not seeking work. Put your best foot forward assuming you're not in the dark. Familiarity breeds contempt assuming you're not bearing gifts. A stitch in time saves nine assuming your stitch doesn't miss. The pen is mightier than the sword assuming it has ink and writes. A bird in hand is worth two in the bush assuming the one doesn't bite. A thing begun is half done assuming you're not cooking meat. The early bird gets the worm assuming the fowler slept late. Blood is thicker than water assuming that water is clean. And you know what they say... to ass-u-me makes of u and me. GloPoWriMo, Day 6 Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a variation of an acrostic poem. But rather than spelling out a word with the first letters of each line, I'd like you to write a poem that reproduces a phrase with the first words of each line." (See napowrimo.net). Maybe if I had never said, "I can
not imagine," I would never have heard your murmured "I can" forgetting that your lifetime spans a war and more that the stare of the young girl I see fleeing home is the mirror of your own vitally afraid your father will be shot important that you not shut your eyes lest he die GloPoWriMo, Day 5 Today's poem responds to the prompt "to write a poem about a mythical person on creature doing something unusual - or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature."(See napowrimo.net). slug-trailed sleeve
swoosh sap-glued shoe whoosh pollen-puffed pants bling dew-drenched dress clean mind mem'ry-mussed it's okay some marks bind too sure for fairy dust |
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April 2024
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