Sun glides low across the sky;
Despite late rising, soon to set.
Scant light filters through the gloom
Diluted ‘til there’s no warmth left.
Still, give credit for the effort.
Kindle carefully the spark.
Perhaps tomorrow will be better, and
I’ll rise higher from the dark.
In response to
I saw your magnificent blooms
sprawling as only magnolias can do,
soaking in the sun’s warmth under a balmy blue sky.
Caught by a sudden springtime squall,
your drooping petals skittered to the ground,
blown away like loose debris across a windy beach.
Growing up on the Pacific northwest coastline,
I was taught to never turn my back on the ocean,
lest I be caught off guard by a fast-moving sneaker wave.
My dear magnolia, it appears you would benefit
from a similar vigilance. Never, never turn your back
on April.
forest’s sodden duff
cedes to fragile trillium
spring will not be stayed
Day Zero of NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month). Or is it NaPoWriMo eve? I shall endeavor once again to meld with my muse and meet the challenge of writing a poem a day for the entire month of April.
Our first (Early Bird) prompt from NaPoWriMo.net is to
Pick a word from the list below. Then write a poem titled either “A [your word]” or “The [your word]” in which you explore the meaning of the word, or some memory you have of it, as if you were writing an illustrative/alternative definition.
From the list (which I won’t reproduce here) I chose the word “ocean.” Hence:
Bestower of bounties:
one may fish for a feast
or dive to the depths
plucking pearls from the peace.
Betrayer of boys
setting sail on the seas,
seduced by the Sirens,
then besieged by the beast.
Mantra of mindfulness,
mysterious muse,
meandering metronome,
hewer of hues.
Destroyer of destinies,
splitter of seams,
shattering ships and
drowning brash dreams.
Thunderous thralls turn to
tranquil translucence.
Balmy or bawdy,
a nymph or a nuisance.
Such is the kaleidoscope,
the ebb and the flow.
We are moored to this tempest;
mind, body and soul.
It’s been a dry summer,
no word play to spare.
What little comes forth
dissipates in the air.
Pen poised above paper,
ink eagerly flows.
A doodle emerges;
no poems or prose.
A rhyme – ‘haps a reason –
to brighten my day?
But no, merely dust
on my laptop’s display.
Perhaps chalk on the sidewalk
if not paper or screen.
but when the dust settles,
not a word to be seen.
I’d settle for tropes
or cliches worn and frayed.
word choices so bad I
must rhyme “marmalade.”
I’ll spare you, dear reader,
‘til rains settle in, when
words fall from the sky
in a glorious din.
When parched brain receptors
rehydrate and breathe,
I’ll come waxing poetic,
my soul on my sleeve.
Day seven of National Poetry Writing Month. NaPoWriMo.net prompt: “…write a poem that plays with the idea of a list.”
It’s April, and we all know what that means: NaPoWriMo!
It’s National Poetry Writing Month, and the well-versed souls at NaPoWriMo.net are once again supplying us with inspiration, motivation and creative prompts to help us in the challenge of writing a poem a day for the entire month of April. I always have the best intentions of meeting the challenge, but sometimes life happens. We’ll see how it goes this year.
For April 1:
They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but they never said you can’t try to write a poem based on a book cover — and that’s your challenge for today!
As a resource, we were sent to The Public Domain Review’s collection “The Art of Book Covers 1820-1914.”
I chose to use a cover to Jules Verne’s book From Earth to the Moon. My endeavor:
When first we breached primordial ooze, our lungs inflating from newfound air, we turned skyward with clouded eyes, and there it was: a moon! We grew a spine (well, some of us), strengthened lengthening limbs, climbed mountains and – finding our voice – we howled at the moon. Torsos stretched, gaining balance. Minds stretched, gaining wherewithal. Desires stirred beyond mere survival. Straining upright, we reached yearningly to touch the moon. Stripped of innocence, we clothed our bodies. Sloughing naivete, we cloaked our intentions. Finding pride, we adorned our personhood. Growing listless, we set a goal: we would walk on the moon. Scarred and marred from our abuse, at a distance Earth nonetheless appears a shiny bauble; a marble expendable in our cosmic game, because we believe if all else fails, we will simply move to the moon.
a lazy rain-beat symphony,
luscious and raw through shadowy mist.
a forest sings of dreams and time,
and I recall
how sweet spring moonlight smells.
April is always a challenging month on this blog. I am of course referring to the blogging/poetry challenges that take place this time of year.
For 2021, I’m participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, where one commits to 26 posts in April (every day except Sundays) with daily topics A to Z as the month progresses. Specific theme optional.
I participated in this challenge in 2016 and 2017, then skipped three years to do the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) challenge. But I’m back!
My theme: as I did in 2017, I will post a 5-7-5 alliterative poem each day (a poem in the form of three lines with corresponding syllables per line of 5, 7 and 5). Not a bona fide haiku, just a similar syllabic sentiment.
I will be the angel of alliteration, the beacon of brevity, the clutterer of clarity, the de– … well, you get the idea. If you want to see how that played out in 2017 you can read those posts beginning here.
Anybody can participate in this challenge. How about you? Are you game?
sights – set high – blown off
cours(ing) through air – a virus
strain(s) humanity
What Rhymes with Stanza? 