Day 09 – poem about damage


If I said I understood everything I wrote, I’d be lying. Today’s effort comes from a form of poetry-generation; a pome-making game I guess. The steps are simple.

1. Make a series of lists (using prompts).
2. Choose one element from each list.
3. Find a way to combine them in one pome.

Ergo, below…

surveying the damage

through the window
yellow leaves cover the lawn
on the table bread is dark
brown like chocolate
— the wind blew all night
forcing doors & knocking
knick-knacks from sills

too cold to emerge
from beneath blankets
so the water did what it must
— spend the morning
throwing all my books
into a pulping machine
they’re useless now


Day 26 – the green green grass of home

Another poem crossed off the ToDoList. It’s been a pretty successful NaPoWriMo in that regard; but it is weird how things rarely turn out the way you thought they might. I dunno if other poets manage to craft poems as they first envisage them, but for me they often go off in a different direction. Not sure if that’s cos I’m too lazy to keep them on track or what …


fuming suburbia

at my previous residence my neighbours
considered me lazy because i wasn’t a fan
of leafraking, grassclipping or any activities
that fought old ma nature’s inbuilt supremacy

here: the local gardeners get their revenge
by deliberately staggering their duties
over ev-ree-thing — weed whackers at 20
paces, a duelling banjos for the bourgeoisie

forget the 24-hour news cycle, ours is a 7-day
mowing cycle cos weekends are no respite
— sure, the professionals may have gone
… but that’s when amateur hour begins

how hard would it be for us all to sit down
& schedule a day, say from 11am-1pm
— suddenly Whippersnipper Wednesday
is born & we all. just. get. it. done…

granted it’d be a crazynoisy couple of hours
but at least it leaves the rest of the week
in blessed peace — seriously, there can’t be
that much kikuyu in my damn street