I need the sun to burn my skin
I need the wind to hit my face
I need to feel awake
I need to feel awake.
#Not numb now, won’t be numb then
Silent seconds
maddening minutes
haunting hours
dystopic days
weary weeks
mournful months
& they think, we will forget
and be numb before the new year.
LOL.
#10 Junk Drawer Song | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
A round glass bowl
filled with words
written with ink on swords
and fish swimming
like thoughts
away from the
safety of the pin
that holds together my skin and my soul
and the bowl fills with 70% water
that leaks from this tiny hole
and the blade and gills
glide beautifully over
waves that are made from
thoughts that eventually
drown
revealing the lost and
loosing whatever was found.
#9 The To-Do list of a fictional character | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
First, I have to wake up on the wrong side.
Then, how i can not yawn
Check my window sill
to see, if there is any birdie
carrying a message for me
and if there is one then
stay in bed.
if there is two
stay in bed
if there are more than three
then get up to pee.
Now that I am up,
and peed
read the messages
and drool over that
its sad spam
with loads of shit
and clean it up.
Take a deep breath.
remind myself
It’s only because I woke up
on the wrong side of the bed.
Ruffle my feathers
and Get some actual work done
Unbutton the faucet of my body
And fuel it with some tea
Polish my hide
and look for the answers
At night,
Refuel, Unmask- and
Sharpen my pines
Reflect, and burst my bubble
The bed has always been oval.
#8 Because, I saw you die too | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
PROMPT: To read a few of the poems from Spoon River Anthology, and then write your own poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead.
I died in your arms last night
and I don’t even know who you are
a woman- strange.. er.
I saw the glimmer dying in your eyes
And watched your heart as it sank
I heard you whisper,
“I’m so glad we met
but un-glad we had to meet like this.”
and then I could feel your breath
draw circles of regret
and fill them in with guilt
You are terrible artist, woman
to think you responsible for
Erasing my future
with simply your presence.
Ah- such pity,
Don’t get me wrong-
I am glad
we met the way we did
but I wish we had a minute
more- so you could hear-
My death had to come
Just like yours will one day
till then,
Oh ye, strange-er women,
Don’t color yourself with guilt
Don’t wear this ring of
Regret.
Ye, stranger woman, I thank you-
for you were here
to hear my
last and
final breath.
#7 The Shadorma (Poetic Form) | NaPoWriMo 04- 2021
Is there any
Way of knowing who
will take my
breath so far
away that I will forget
what it feels to breathe
My lungs will
stop their functioning
My life will
slowly cease
but then I will forget who
took my breath away
So what’s the
point in knowing who
will take my
breath so far
away that I will never
live to breathe again.
#6 Long Distance Relationship | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
Prompt: Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely.
Book: The Art of Peace and Happiness, Rupert Spira
How to survive a long-distance relationship?
How close are we really?
From each other?
From the ground to our feet?
The sky to our sight?
The food to our teeth?
And, If I do go on-
which I might-
in the dead of the night-
Then, how close is my skin to my bones?
Or this perfume I smell to my nose?
How close are my fingers to the board?
and my finger to these now typed words?
How close are my thoughts from what I feel?
How close are my feelings to my words?
Right now they seem far. Very far.
Like me from this galaxy. But
How far is this galaxy from me?
How far am I from me?
Or am I simply too close to see,
Im not far- nor close-
for perhaps
this, thing
right here- right there-
is all just a part
of me. me. me.
and its all one thing really
Because distances are
F E L T
only if you add words
meanings feelings
and thoughts
for there is only one and
one only.
#5 Natalie Shapero’s “Pennsylvania.” | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
Of all the moments this,
wound me up like a bedside alarm clock-
It rang.
It rang like a thousand telephones in a room
waiting impatiently to be picked
Can you all me once to take a call?
It’s all busy and you’re busy at times all.
Time and time again
Time’s not a wise man’s friend
that said, you are not wise anyways.
Obviously for you have no time for me at all
blinded by your absent light
enraged I cut all calls.
And then for a moment the ringing finally
paused till I turned to turn off my alarm clock.
Prompt: To find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. https://www.napowrimo.net/day-five-8/
Poem I picked: https://poems.com/poem/pennsylvania/
#4 Liminal | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
To select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @SpaceLiminalBot, and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces.
The sky is there where it is.
Where are you?
PROMPT:
#3 Wordly-Rubik | NaPoWriMo 04-2021
5 Sensory Words – Wide-eyed, Blocked nose, Mouth sealed, Ears ringing
2 nouns- Sunflowers- Porcupine
1 Action- Weave
My eyes wide- they say they grew wider than ever before
and My nose- a curse in this moment of grandeur
My mouth sealed- words sat dumbfounded
and the jingles kept ringing in my ears.
A black white porcupine
and its black white striped porcu-pine
weaved the shimmering sunlight
into the yellow sunflowers bright
and the perfume melted the loom
and everyone that stood in the room
and the sunflowers so
beautifully groomed
Bloomed. Bloomed.
Bloomed.
PROMPT INSPIRATION:
The Ifs & Their Ellipsis 