#napowrimo 2021 again

[prasannawrites]

you are love.

you are a constant. you are light. you are a wellspring of hope. you are on the cusp of my every thought. you are like floaters in my eyes, i see you in everything. you are my favourite song, i hum your melody everywhere i go. you are my favourite poem, i carry your verses in my left pocket. you are the cosmos i want to explore. you are a gentle awakening on the weekends, like light parading through one’s curtains to warmly embrace their face. you are the sea, you frighten me with your depth – i know next to little about you. you are like the first snows of december. you are the first rains of april. you are winter. you are summer. you are the reason for everything – you are. and i am. and that’s enough for me.

[salovie]

he walks the old path,

mournful steps in morning light—

a reconciled soul

[lipstickonmugs]

My hands ached

They always did

I do not remember a time when

They were not raw and screaming

Do not remember a time when they were good for anything else

Dont get me wrong

I thought about it

Almost did it

But how are you to know

what comes after

That you will even be the same without

The reminder

The dull

The searing

The raw

The screaming

The ache

Are you something new

Without hands clenched tight?

I will change

But I will not become something else

I can't

I won't

So I held on

And my hands hated me

And then I didn't

I let go

Tempted by the breeze

The stretch

The chance

The change

The removal of monotony

I let go

And I hit ground

And it hit me back

And I let it

And I screamed myself raw

b.t.a. napowrimo 2021, 1/30

[peaamlipoetrydoctor]

Day One /// NaPoWri----NO

Having another go at revisiting the prompts from April 2022's National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo).

Day One was a prompt to write a poem about the body but/and it was also a prompt to structure a poem with reference to the structure of a previously existing piece.

I didn't really understand it in that way at the time, but have just written a similar exercise for my class with Poetry School London where we broke down the elements in a particular poem and used the same elements as a starting-point scaffold for a new piece of our own on entirely different theme.

So, this was the prompt as given -

>>> FROM a workshop Maureen Thorson took with Beatrix Gates in 2021 and >>> BASED on the prose poem "A Story About The Body" by Robert Hass with the following elements >>> theme should be a story about the body >>> should involve an encounter between two people >>> at least one line of dialogue >>> at least one crisp image.

Originally I thought that maybe I'd just edit the poem I wrote on this day first time round, but as it turns out nearly 1/3rd of those poems, including the Day One poem, are "on topic" to be early draft material for what be evolving/coalescing into my next poetry pamphlet. (The list of poems in this group are listed in blue at the end. of this post...)

So - new poem then... HERE GOES... /// [TO BE CONTINUED...]

This list originally appeared in and is copied from a post on 5th May:

01 April - Fog Gets to Know Her New Body

03 April - Glosa, after (and not entirely in agreement with Elizabeth Barrett Browning) - a negotiation about "non-heroic” kinds of love

06 April - Things Fall Apart (from Yeats, The Second Coming)

08 April - Papparazzi - the theme of different lives / different choices

10 April - Lost Love Poem II - the II in the title here is because I wrote Lost Love Poem I for the Mid-Life sequence in question…

13 April - Temerity - on why I insist on hoping-beyond-hope

16 April - Persistence - effectively the same poem, different form?

21 April - To Dream or To Scream? - a poem about my ex-husband (the dream/scream of the [TERRIBLE] title refer to paintings BTW)

27 April - String Theory - different lives again

and the “bonus” poem, Reminiscing with Alice - nostalgia.

[blackinkmess]

NaPoWriMo 2021 - Day 4

A simple pleasure I have not enjoyed for so long, a whole day filled with joy from start to finish. This feeling this contentment has been hard to come by and often doesn't last long. But today feels different. Today, I feel it everywhere. A simple day but a radiant one, I can feel myself slowly coming alive again.

[awyldepoetry]

The winter was long and cold

The winter was long and cold We were holed up, huddled for warmth I was sad and missing home

Before that was the strangest fall We fell together in new ways, uncertain I kept quiet, stirrings stalled

We edge now into gentle spring We'll swallow bubbles in the sun, playful I'm grateful, here, giggling

Summer will be light, full of fun We'll roller skate with elbow pads, fall softly I'll be eyes open, alert to wonder

When fall comes again, still here alone I worry distraction will wither or falter and I will be sad and missing home

A. Wylde

April 10th, 2021 NaPoWriMo 09/30

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

My name means gold

My name means gold

At least, that’s what a          Korean guy told me, who                    I met in Amsterdam, when I went to buy                               Matcha and jasmine tea,joss sticks and a brass frog ashtray, and eat Vietnamese                    food for my seventeenth birthday,cooked by a friendfrom Paris,who I never saw again. Kim M. Russell, 14th April 2021 My response to NaPoWriMo Day…

[balkaransidhu]

NaPoWriMo 2021

Compatriots! It is that time of the year again. April 2021 has come to our shores and it is time to pick up our pens and toil our way (or have fun) through this month. I will be doing 26 different forms of poetry (A to Z) from April 1 to April 30. I will be extensively researching these forms of poetry and putting them out here along with my attempts at them. Here is the schedule for NaPoWriMo…

[coloradomcpoeticslave]

Halloween NaPoWriMo 2021: Under Wraps

Halloween NaPoWriMo 2021: Under Wraps

By Daniel Paiz It’s been some time yet again since a NaPoWriMo piece has graced the digital pages of this publication. Fortunately for readers and this writer alike, the rhyme is no longer under wraps. Halloween is a time to spook one another as well as ourselves. This is also a time to reflect, as the changing of seasons leads to a death of sorts for many natural entities, and a reset button…

[authormarialberg]

Vespertilian Versimilitude

After posting my OctPoWriMo poem today, I happened upon #tshalloweenchallenge. Since I missed Pumpkin and monster, here’s my pumpkin that has a parasitic monster (again): It might already be a zombie vampire. Watch Out! A colony of bats in the window by Maria L. Berg 2021 Today’s prompt Bats reminded me of a poem I wrote during NaPoWriMo 2018 called “Be Forewarned: Expect Vespertilian…

[prasannawrites]

sing your song – you’ve took up residence in my heart long before you decided to perch on me; so sing your melodious songs of melancholy and mourning, i already know the lyrics. i'll sing with you, little dove – and if no answers back, i'll stay with you till your whole again.

[prasannawrites]

not a lot of time

time has come to a rolling stop – for this brief moment; you are within grasp, you are here, a light on the horizon, and i’m frantically searching for all the words to spill. how do i condense years of your absence into a measly few words? “i've waited for you”. and dawn breaks, drowning me in light, groggily i awake. one day.

[prasannawrites]

you

you ask, what foods i crave? you – the sound of your voice is like nectar, slow pouring raspberry honey that coats words like molasses. i drink your eyes in like macchiato, wanting to swirl you away into the gardens of Luxembourg. you are the ambrosia i devour in secret.

[prasannawrites]

you; a loud reason.

tell me why i feel more holy in your palms than praying to any of the gods?

tell me why i’ve never felt smaller when i rest my head on your shoulder?

it doesn’t take much, it’s always the little things that set me ablaze. why do my desires run rampant when i catch the morning light in your eyes – tell me why do i desire?

and if not your eyes –

it’s everything else, the way the wind plays with your hair, the way the sun tenderly kisses your skin.

it's you.

[prasannawrites]

a silent script.

the absence echoes throughout this self-inflicted desert, a wasteland of every imaginary conservation starring you and i, where i casted as the leads in a couple that finds love again. i can never write a script believable enough to fix what was done – instead, i wallow here, in what could have been.

[prasannawrites]

midas touch

i am bereft of truth; wholly-wedded to the thought of bathing you in sunlight, i’ve never been one to cast shadows – i live a cursed existence, knowing only to worship your light. you are fallible, but like a midas touch, my heart only knows how to love saccharinely.