NaPoWriMo day eight: Westcoasting

So I slightly deviated from Maureen Thorson's prompt for today, mainly because the prompt was to go outside and it was midnight when I wrote this (and I was cozy in bed).  It still pertains to the outdoors and the weather, just not today's weather!

Westcoasting

us vancouverites, we are prepared with our miniature umbrellas

in our trouser pockets.  Eating sushi with sand between our toes and

chopsticks in our hair. Our poor cousins to the east,

lamenting the passing of august into the brutal jaw of winter,

we glide slowly, passively, into an endless grey month of

rain.

NaPoWriMo day seven: a colour

An avalanche of sorrys;
trees reduced to whispers.

NaPoWriMo day six: an animal poem

  

The docile house cat, also known as chat,

feline, katu, kitte, pussy.

I bring you mice as offerings,

Bleeding gifts symbolic of my predatory prowess.

Take heed; I am not curled up on your lap for your comfort

or mine;

rather I am memorizing the topography of your body,

the ways I can trip you up,

lull you to sleep.  I’ve got nine lives

and exponentially more ways to take my place

as dictator of this house.

NaPoWriMo day five: baseball

MVP

The way the sun only catches the five inches of space on your thigh,

Between the tall striped socks and the spandex shorts,

And you spend the summer with a horizontal burnt banner,

Along with a few patches of raw skin from where you slid into home

And were hero for a day.

NaPoWriMo day four: the blues

The challenge for today was to write a blues.  Let me begin by saying that as much as I love the blues, I am not much of a songwriter.  I summoned the talents of blues god B.B. King while I wrote this, hoping the rhythm would make its way through my fingertips.

The Suit

My baby, he wears a damn fine suit.

Oh, my baby, he wears a damn fine suit,

But it’s about time I give him the boot.

My baby, he wears a damn fine suit,

But he leaves me to make the tea

He leaves me to fold the laundry,

My baby, he don’t love me

But damn, he wears a fine suit.

Oh my baby, he made me his own,

Made me his own sweet lady,

But my baby don’t love me,

Standin’ on the corner, wishin’ he were free.

My baby, he wears a damn fine suit,

But he’s not handsome,

Not handsome at all to me.

His hair is terrible,

His nose is crooked,

My baby, his suit don’t look good on him at all.

My baby, he wears a damn fine suit,

Oh my baby, he wore a damn fine suit.

But I’ve found another man,

Who looks better in his suit,

So I’ve decided to give my baby the boot.

(and take off with the suit)

NaPoWriMo day three: epithalamium (or, a poem about a wedding)

Caligraphy

buy a pretty dress, he says,

and let’s stand under a canopy of stars –

that’s so Victorian of you, she says,

i don’t want roses i want dandelions,

save the sonnets and give me your hands instead.

vases of flowers and crinkled invites,

ties hurriedly arranged and the ring bearer

wearing one shoe.  give me the crook of your collar bone and

i’ll be fine

red bowtie lips and a burnt flambé

and rain is spoiling aunt judith’s curls.

rosacead and whiskeyed uncle john completes the company

of the day’s clichés.

it’s all falling apart, he says,

plans and purpose without purpose.

how defeatist of you, she says,

i could live on bread crumbs and your honey skin alone.

A poem a day for a month (NaPoWriMo): Day one

It is National Poetry Month, and I’ve decided to take the challenge of writing a poem a day for a month. I think the challenge of forcing myself to do it - of summoning the words even when I feel like they have no interest in making an appearance - will be good.

Also, there’s this: napowrimo.net

Today's prompt (April 1) is a triolet.  I have issues with rhyming poetry; I am not the best at manipulating words within the constraints.  But that is why this is good practice.

Here goes nothing.


For youth and splendor

Oh to be young and blushing and shy,

modestly proudly flickering glances and batting lashes. Hands

meandering across the deep plains of his thigh,

to be young and blushing and shy –

Karaoke the proper and charming opportunity to play wry

and adult. A fugitive of family plans.

Oh to be young and blushing and shy,

and proclaiming devoted love for the most obscure of bands.