Poetic Asides prompt: write a fade out poem
Head to Pillow
Too many thoughts jam the corridors
Of synapses, throwing a techno rave,
All neon and black lights behind my eyelids
With the thumping drum of my heartbeat
To underscore the symphony of to-dos
and what-to-says keeping me awake.
Breathe in, breathe out, and I embrace
Each reveling idea and send it away
To sleep it off in whatever subconscious corners
They can find, switch off the lights, turn down
The volume and slip into the dark oblivion of sleep.
Okay, so I it’s wrote 7 poems (of varying degrees of quality) in just over an hour, but damn if I didn’t actually finish Napowrimo in 30 days. Talk about a first. Whoohoo!
Now, of you don’t mind I’m going to do as the poem says and let my head hit the pillow.
Poetic Asides prompt: take a line or an image from one of the poems you wrote this month and incorporate it into a new poem
Solitude I am not, I assure you, so lonely
as you imagine me to be.* So, just let me
sit here, eyes closed, let me taste the sun,
let me have the quiet space between each breath,
let me shape dreams from stillness,
leave me space to fill with empty, and maybe
I’ll remember how to embrace source once more.
*These two lines come from my Napowrimo #12, “Something To Consider”
Poetic Asides prompt: write a poem with “The Trouble is (blank)” as the title
The Trouble is an Assortment of Excuses
as to why each
of these poems suck
in unique and vibrant ways.
I could, for example, blame
the shortness of time
too often of things to be done,
leaving each poem to be written
in a moment or less. I could blame NCIS
TV’s most recent presentation
of spectacle and distraction, like friends
who demand my attention. I could blame
the muse, too, for providing me
with such weak lines. Suck reminds one
of vacuums, she says, you can’t deny
the greatness of a good vacuum metaphor.
Or suckers on an octopuses sigh feet,
a middle school kids less than artfully
leaving blotchy hickies on some girl’s neck.
A toilet, a drain, a straw all suck, too,
like glue, no that’s stuck, not suck.
She could go on like this, my muse,
no really. So, I say, shut up, my dear
(it doesn’t pay to be entirely rude),
I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.
But, but, but, she says, there’s more.
But I am ready snoring.
Poetic Asides prompt: write a problem poem
The problem is not the rain
Streaming down my hair,
Running into my eyes, it that you
Can’t seem to see that I’m crying, or
You don’t seem to care.
Poetic Asides prompt: write an animal poem
An unkindness of ravens take flight,
black wings scattering the blue of the sky,
a rare sight for they seems such lonely birds,
or not lonely, but like me, content in solitude.
Seeing a raven is bad luck, or is it two ravens,
and is it not the bad luck they bring, but the threat
of death? Ghostly they haunted Poe’s dreams,
enough so they invaded his poems. I love them
for their shadows, for the night they carry under
their wings, as I love them too for being the wise
old advisors who squawked in Odin’s ears.
For stealing sun, moon, and fire (with the help
of your shifting shape ) from the chief’s hut
and presenting them to the world, so that we
may have light, even though it cost you
your once white feathers. Oh, the stories told,
and no doubt, you trickster and thief,
you made each story up yourself, but that’s alright
take the bread dangling from a length of twine
it was meant for you anyway, and I’ll watch my back
for spooks as you go in your way.
Poetic Asides prompt: write a sport poem
Once I used cleave the water,
cutting each fifty meter lap
with strong strokes and rapid kicks.
I could swim hard and felt powerful
I let my doubt carry me away
and as I’m writing this I know my heart’s not in it. Yes, I swam and I was good, and I was a stupid teenager who let my fears (of not being accepted, of getting my period) keep me from pursuing something I was great at. And of. Purse though I had an excellent grade point average, I almost didn’t graduate because I lacking PE credits, which had to be made up at the last minute. So, this poem sucks as a poem, but it’s a true story, mostly.
Poetic Asides prompt: write a love poem or an anti-love poem
So, two people become entangled,
some say one plus one becomes one,
and it is beautiful they say, though I
wouldn’t know, and so comfortable
in my one self being my one self,
in determining the course of each day
belonging to only me, that such intertwining
of lives, such melting into another, is
as terrifying a prospect as loss of sanity,
and yet I wonder what it would be like
to just be held a while and know
I am myself loving another being
who remains themself,
two individuals together
being two individuals,
and yet comfortable in the intimate
realm and embrace of each other.
Poetic Asides prompt: write a morning poem
As the rising sun turns the sky
gold and then blue, birds lift their
fluttering brown breasts
and release their hearts in a litany
of whistling, twittering song .
Poetic Asides prompt: write a judging poem
Judge Me Not
Hey, self, yeah you,
progenitor of self doubt,
take your “I can’t make it”
and your “I’m not good enough”
“not smart enough”
“not clever enough”
and shove it. I’m gonna do
what I’m gonna do,
I don’t need your sass,
so, shut up,
I’ve got things to do.
Poetic Asides prompt: write an under the microscope poem
Traffic is heavy
in this raindrop
these single cells
with cilia whirring,
every now and then
to farm for
ever multiplying bacteria.
A single protazoa
angles through the crowd
and finds the embrace
of an amoeba’s
Enamored, it swims
and snuggles into
the enfolding arms