Day 30 – poem about you

the_forest_whispers_sanguine_CROP

Thankfully NaPoWriMo 2017 has come to an end, for although I enjoy it, it’s always a relief when it’s over.

A couple of choices today from the things I’ve played with. One was a love poem in fragments. One about how country towns don’t exist anymore. Another about the city, under lights. All of which I’ve sort of done before (or variations of). So I’ve gone with something a little bit different: a “sequence” (?) of very short poems which all came out about the same time & all seemed to be semi-tenuously linked. Once I noticed they were coming I applied a 5 line rule to them, & re-edited them all into second person. Originally there were 10. Here are the best:

5 modern mini-faery tales where you are the star

i.
Using your red brolly
you hitched a ride
to the sky
to walk upon
the live wires of electricity

ii.
You carry a swarm
in your bloodbrown hair
ready to sting
all who displease you
into submission

iii.
You catch clouds in a jar
high above the trees
never thinks about how
it just
seems to happen

iv.
You wear ribbons
at your wrists, ankles & neck
all tied tight
to stop your appendages
falling off

v.
After teaching your elephant
to lift you on her trunk
you’ll focus on
tandem bikeriding
(once it’s been reinforced)

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Day 09 – poem about damage

1

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 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