Tag Archives: National Poetry Month

NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 30

Today is the last day of National Poetry Writing Month, but the writing will go on! My final poem for the month was inspired by the triolet form (though it’s not a triolet) and Maya Angelou’s “On the Pulse of Morning,” which was in the prompt from Adele Kenny’s poetry blog.

Praying for a dream

lift up your faces
you have a piercing need
which will not be moved
despite its wrenching pain

lift up your faces
but seek no haven
a bordered country
armed for slaughter

lift up your faces
for a new beginning
clad in peace
you have a piercing need

 

 

 

These irises were a gift from a neighbor. Thanks for reading!

 

NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 29

I’ve been writing but haven’t had time to post. The poem for today’s prompt from Adele Kenny’s poetry blog is “The Hedgehog” by Paul Muldoon. I love his line breaks and how the last stanza takes the reader somewhere much more serious than the rest of the poem portends.

Reasons to Write Poetry, No. 427

Sometimes you start writing
a poem as it comes to you
line by line, and it turns
suddenly in a direction
you didn’t expect.

 

 

Here is a gorgeous iris to thank you for reading.

 

 

NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 20

A line from Mary Oliver’s “Why I Wake Early” caught my ear, thanks to the prompt at Adele Kenny’s poetry blog: wake.

Not a morning person

(after M. Oliver)

even the miserable and the crotchety
must wake, however early or late,
to the sun’s relentless cheeriness
and radioactive optimism

 

 

Some tulips and grape hyacinths would like to thank you for reading.

 

 

NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 6

The last couple days’ drafts have been, well, a bit too drafty to post.
But here is a derangement of Elizabeth Bishop’s “I Am in Need of Music,” inspired by a prompt at Adele Kenny’s poetry blog: Music.

Harmonic intervention

(after E. Bishop)

Sleep; the moon floats
forever still in the sea,
fading, sinking; deep
through the heart
of cool, quiet rest
breathes a spell
made of melody.

Limbs flush, glow
and quiver in dreams
of water, falling
dead-tired to rest
in the sway of some old
song, low and liquid.

Oh, for the healing!
Clear lips, trembling
melody, bitter fingers
feel the frets
of tainted music:

I am in need.


NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 3

This is a very loose derangement of Yeats’ “When You Are Old,” inspired by a prompt at Adele Kenny’s poetry blog: Aging.

Time and sky
(after W.B. Yeats)

Stars cloud his face, hidden overhead
amid mountains that glow with the bend
and change of sorrow. The soul seeks
false love, true beauty, and grace
of moments deep in shadow. Soft eyes
dream of looks read slowly and taken
by fire, nodding and grey with sleep,
at once old and full.


NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 2

Taking a cue from my September writing challenge success – and Adele Kenny’s Tip #4 – I may not post every day this month, but I will definitely draft a poem every day. Some drafts simply aren’t ready for public viewing. 😉

Today’s poem resulted from a prompt at Adele Kenny’s poetry blog: The color red.

The next morning

Very few notice
dried blood
on the sidewalk
as it no longer
appears red.


NaPoWriMo 2021, Day 1

Welcome to National Poetry Writing Month (in the U.S. and Canada) and Global Poetry Writing Month (in the rest of the world)!

My first poem resulted from a prompt at Adele Kenny’s poetry blog: Remembrance.

Failure of memory

Year after year the magnolias bloom
too soon, and their thick creamy
petals liquefy in the late spring
freeze then drip from upturned branch
tips, hundreds of candles burnt
clear down to the socket.


Day 23, NaPoWriMo 2020

This is a found poem from Kelly Thompson’s post on Brevity: https://brevity.wordpress.com/2020/04/23/come-together/

Speaking from the sixties

“The world is acting like it’s going to lose us,” I said.
His smile was wry. As was mine.
Tender wry.
“Well, they’re losing us anyway,” he said.

No, I won’t die for capitalism, for Trump, for Wall Street.
I would for my girls, for my grandbabies.
But for consumerism? For the lie that there is not enough?
Not a chance.

Like my husband said, “You will lose us anyway.”
We are in the third act.
Age is a construct and so is time.
But death is not.

 

2020 National Poetry Month Poster-50

Day 22, NaPoWriMo 2020

Today is Earth Day. I am thankful for the astounding planet-wide system that sustains us, but feel I should be wearing sackcloth and ashes as a sign of grief and repentance for the terrible damage we inflict upon it daily.

Covid-19 is Us

A virus moves about the Earth at will
destroying
occupying
re-engineering
adapting
whatever other living organism
it comes across
without respect or regard
for whom or whatever
may be affected

Sooner or later this planet
will shake us all off
like a bad cold

(This poem was inspired by a blog post: https://ipledgeafallegiance.wordpress.com/2020/04/21/earth-strikes-back/)

2020 National Poetry Month Poster-50

Day 16, NaPoWriMo 2020

This is not an actual dream but a series of images that came to mind as I was reading poems other people had written about their dreams.

Unconscious

At the beginning of the dream
I stand at the end of the pier.
A light north breeze blows steady
so the leaves on the cottonwoods
flap like church fans and whisper

among themselves. The water
ripples dark and translucent, a sheet
of shifting obsidian flakes. No boats
or cottages or people or other piers
are there; I am alone with the lake.

In the middle of the dream I drift
above the deepest part in that green
rowboat with the wooden oars,
the lake so clear I see the bottom
criss-crossed by large torpedo

shapes some hundred feet below.
Smaller fish glide or dart through
the intervening space, every shade
of green with flashes of gold
and silver, turquoise and emerald.

In the end of the dream I float
just below the surface and watch
the slow undulation of seaweed
in distant shallows. Minnows
nibble at the hairs on my arms

and legs, tickling. My face
breaks the surface and I take
deep, slow breaths before I sink
a few feet and jack-knife
toward the bottom.

 

2020 National Poetry Month Poster-50