responding to the napowrimo.net prompt: What are you haunted by, or what haunts you? Write a poem responding to this question. Then change the word haunt to hunt.
I am hunted by all I am not and may never be but life is held within the palm of One who sets me free
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responding to the napowrimo.net prompt to write a poem in which the speaker expresses the desire to be someone or something else, and explains why.
I'd like to be the music you think up in your head or the story that you tell yourself trying to sleep in bed. I'd like to be the comic book that makes you laugh out loud or the hand you hold to tightly when amongst a crowd. I'd like to be the spark that ignites inside your eyes when wonder surprises you or success follows a try. I will spend my life discovering who you fully are and a lifetime just won't be enough to get very far. Though learning how to be there for you can sometimes be tough and I can't know you as God does being your mama is enough. responding to the napowrimo.net prompt to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music. {I did change the music title a bit...}
You have such a fun habit of hearing song names your own way "We don't know you're beautiful" "Le ballade dangereux*" and there are songs that hurt and diamonds whose beauty many miss but not from you nor by you, my laughing love keep laughing keep playing my love *{sic, as pronounced by my Nate} responding to the napowrimo.net prompt to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does.
a heart the size of my palm glass, I think, made to look bark-brown with a hollow for a candle and a little hole where once hung a bell on a leather cord there is now no cord there is no bell there is no candle there is a hollow there is a hole I found your gift responding to the napowrimo.net prompt to take a look at @StampsBot, and become inspired by the wide, wonderful, and sometimes wacky world of postage stamps. Are you Peter Rabbit?
I think you are... I wonder how you'd be at mail delivery... better than at keeping your coat? I see you have a new one now. I learned that Nippon is Japan. You have traveled far! I wonder, do you squeeze through a gate with no keys to bask in Japanese catmint blue even if you have to hide in green carpet to escape a nata-wielding Nōka? * I did my best to look up plants ("Japanese catmint blue" and "green carpet") that could be found in a Japanese garden as well as transliterated Japanese words to include a garden tool that would be used in Japan ("nata" for machete) and a farmer ("Nōka"). If I have made any mistakes, please forgive my ignorance! Global Poetry Writing Month, Day 14
(For Sundays I've decided to write thank-you poems to my loving Maker.) for loving and holding to hear and heal pain, for loved ones who don't leave through life's wax and wane Thank You Today's poem began with a prompt from napowrimo.net but then became its own brief scene.
The evening sky sheds silky scarves onto the selkies of the sea as stars drop down wrapping tears into pearls, hope encompassing grief. responding to the napowrimo.net prompt to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.”
Good Ol' Johnny Appleseed planting now for a day unseen, making his world a little bit greener a little bit shadier a little bit sweeter. This tree grows till its branches bear fruit the size of a lion's lair big enough for a family home or the average giant to live on his own no need even to shop for dinner just chop a wall a little thinner. The next tree's roots reach down so deep they tickle bony toes where the skeletons sleep then 'round the Earth's core they veer to peek out the opposite hemisphere. And this one's leafy canopy spreads 'til the sun and moon can cover their heads and space itself can take a break with not even a pinprick star awake. Good Ol' Johnny Appleseed planted then for a later need made the universe a good bit greener a good bit shadier a good bit sweeter. responding to the prompt from napowrimo.net to write either a monostich, which is a one-line poem, or a poem made up of one-liner style jokes/sentiments.
My Fall what I thought a knot was loosely woven. responding to the prompt from napowrimo.net to write a poem based on one of the curious headlines, cartoons, and other journalistic tidbits featured at Yesterday’s Print, where old news stays amusing, curious, and sometimes downright confusing.
"Detective Stories Most Often Stolen in New York Library" As if they were inspired to bust their bindings (if their characters could why not they?) and convinced conspirators to smuggle them away |
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April 2024
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