Tag Archives: poetry

Day 07 – poem about bicycles

Penny-farthing bicycle on a distant moon CROP

Some of my favourite poems come out of the dreams I have. Coincidentally they’re often among the easiest to write, even if I’m not always sure what they mean (the dreams I mean; I always know what my poems are about, huh-ha… ha).

night bike ride

you ride your penny farthing
along the lush lip of the moon
while I potter along beneath

pushing the chunky wheels
of my trike round hard as I can
without getting anywhere

soon you’ll be soaring along
the roadway of milky stars
& i’ll be watching you fade

Day 06 – poem about THE wonder of the world

text close up

Life can be such a poo the way it gets in the way. The first draft of this pome was finished well before 11am with intentions to tweak later in the day; but work, 2 & 1/2 hours of driving, that pesky niece again (thankfully the essay is due tomorrow, well today now) meant it’s had no chance for revision & is being uploaded a few minutes after my midnight. Ahh well, it’s a solid start that can be worked on later.

cheap paperback wonderland

though the pages are yellow, foxed
though the spine brittle
though the glue cracks
as each page tumbles over
transforming bound book
into loose leaves no matter
how reverentially i turn

despite the damage i inflict
upon this precious relic
long savoured by my mother
as one of her favourite fictions
i am once more lost   this time
in revolutionary cornwall
as the industrial age fires up
weeping at love gone awry
wailing harder when reconciled

every so often wandering astray
at the way words  no matter
the medium  these upright lines
curious curves  intermittent
dots & convoluted squiggles
repeatedly rearrange themselves
into emotional outpourings
that make them the greatest
of all wonders

Day 05 – poem about shadows

talking_to_the_moon_by_gilad CROP

This strange little poem grew out of the first three words which just popped into my head. The rest flowed out afterwards without much effort. Gotta have at least one poem about the moon or else it isn’t a real NaPoWriMo. Hope I haven’t done my dash by tossing it in so early in the month.

the moon & me

the moon
smothers

in violent light
holds head under

satin stain
on the wall

awkwardly cast
shadowself

always clawing
through to the other

(dark)
side of me

Day 02 – poem about hermits

02 in_my_magnifying_glass_01_by_coollekotten-d4jgu83

case study #7

she makes peace with past tears ;
ignores the radio’s roster of sad songs
background faint which seek to suck
her into sinkholes she’s spent years
climbing out of ; sliding back in
– a triumph just buying milk

he prepares a packet-free meal ;
washes a load sans tissue-in-pocket ;
actually eats the watermelon before
it emulsifies in its clingwrap shroud
– little victories by most parameters
but he’ll take them ; gladly

& so we assemble our fragments

Day 01 – poem about growth

01 seaford

Good Lord. Is it that time of year already. I didn’t even realise til late Sunday that good ol’ NaPoWriMo had started the day before. Was I really gonna do this again. I haven’t been on Facebook much so I didn’t get any reminders from fellow poets who are attempting it this year. Are any? Luckily I’d jotted down a couple of draft pomes (I try & generate something every day & hopefully over a month, I get a couple of ideas worth developing). This was the least bad of those.

developments in irony

when we seem more interested in seeding
new subdivisions over the hills & plains
where once fruit trees turned heat
into sweetness & wheat rippled gold

where before that kangaroos & goannas
grazed — when we’d rather plant hardware
megastores & concrete commerce
cathedrals , cheek-by-bowel McMansions

in plots tarted up with wispy poetic
organic-sounding  names : This-&-That
View, HoHum Gardens or SomeOrOther’s
Farm ;  mockingly named for the agriculture

ploughed under to birth it — clearly a well
developed sense of irony plays a big part
in the selection criteria for local councilors
responsible for christening these cancers

& equally obvious we no longer wish
to produce enough food to feed ourselves

 

 

(Hour 22) 19.30pm-20.30pm. PROMPT, game: “title”

Prompt 22. Choose a title from the five offered. Write a poem. I have. & it may be the best poem of my career. Either that or I am incredibly tired. But let’s go with the former.

Möbius’ Strip

she sure wasn’t
the greatest dancer
in the world
or even the club

but she had this
amazing way
of bending minds
so you never knew

if she was taking clothes off
or putting them back on

Half way there.

Just finished the 12th poem. In the first 15 minutes. Which equals a glorious 45 minutes off. Perhaps I’ll nap.

A quick read over the night’s offerings reveals the verdict:

2 which are excellent & i’m very pleased with

4, that are better than

5, that are solid

& 1 that was always only ever intended as a joke

So all in all, i’m reasonably happy. How they’ll read after I’ve wiped off this sleep debt is anyone’s guess, but only my business.

Restward ho!

(Hour 08) 05.30-06.30am. PROMPT, form: “pantoum”

bliss_bombs

The task was write a Pantoum (a poem with a set rhyming pattern, as you will see). In a way I kind of cheated because some of us Marathoners were chatting in our facebook group about what snacks we had laid in for the next X hours & I mentioned I’d just opened some Lolly Gobble Bliss Bombs. On overseas poet didn’t know what they were, so I described them thus: “caramel & nut coated popcorn made by blissed out angels on permanent sugar highs 😂 ” … 10 minutes later we received the prompt – write a pantoum … & so gobble was born.

gobble

love my lolly gobble bliss bombs
nut & caramel coated popcorn
made by choirs of tripped out angels
singing love songs to sugar highs

nut & caramel coated popcorn
makes my brain oh so slightly dizzy
singing love songs to sugar highs
with my fingers all licky sticky

yes my brain oh so slightly dizzy
loves my lolly gobble bliss bombs
with fingers all licky sticky
tongued by choirs of trippy angels

It has begun …

Well, the first poem of (hopefully) 24 has been posted. I have 5 minutes before I need to start the next one.

Last year I had a theme & I posted every poem both here on my blog & again on the official Poetry Marathon page.

This year I am going to respond to the official poetry prompts & see where that takes me. I’m also not going to post every poem here for two reasons.

  1. It takes up too much time, something which gets pretty precious towards the end of the 24 hours.
  2. Some of the poems turned out okay, and even publishing them on a private blog can prevent them from being entered into some comps/submitted to certain journals, so I’d like to keep my options open.

I might occasionally during the mara, if I think any poem has sufficient charm, post a few here to share. But I need to stop waffling the next prompt is due any second & Poem 2 needs to get started …

Marathon Man 2

A little over 12 months ago, Adelaide Poet & real life marathoner, Mike Hopkins posted a link on facebook about this thing run out of the States — the “24 Hour Poetry Marathon”.

Last year I was very organised, tidied my desk up, bought plenty of food, precooked some meals, shaved, napped during the day, & was, as prepared as I could be (or so I thought) to try writing 24 poems in 24 hours.

Well in around 11 hours I’ll be trying it all again. Except this time, the desk’s a mess, no food is prepared (or even really in the house), I’m about to go out to a potentially boozy bbq, followed by a game of football for a team I don’t really barrack for & I have no plan & NFI.

I wonder which year will prove the most successful 🙂

marathon-man-1976-04-g