Category Archives: NaPoWriMo

new poem.

Servility She is a gale force of negative pressure, the absence of touch so sincere you feel the subtle drag of it against your skin; in every pore bold enough to rest against the nearest bubble of air. She is … Continue reading

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30/30 catchup in Haiku

One: Being grumpy I swallow the world In one gulp Two: Loneliness is my widest river I’ve no paddle to cross it Sunset in an old boat Three: Two bedrooms, three people Dirty hands on my aunt’s embroidery I’m not … Continue reading

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8/30 from the litnivorous prompt – love luck & the girl with the scissors

I often wonder if it was more than luck. Perhaps a girl with scissors was jealous; so many long lengths pirouetting, their timeless pattern exquisitely timed, and she with the key to time’s endings. Maybe she was just a bubble-popping bimbo … Continue reading

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9/30 – a poem about last nights dream. ps, I am actually only one day behind, I’ll post those back poems tomorrow.

To a flying beauty in taffeta and silk the house whispers, its mind driven to the brink… Sanity straddling Death’s chasm. Hide and seek is not a game when stakes are this high. … Life dangling and twisting, toe dipped … Continue reading

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The Nameless Beast Speaks of Slumber – prompt 1/30 from poetryidiots.com

You call me the Mistress of Evil, Maleficant. As if I held only malice in my heart! Carabosse or Odelia, I am no wicked godmother. I am neither 8th nor 13th, I simply am. In many ways I am nameless. … Continue reading

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5/30 – A bop poem. My refrain is taken from the song Sittin On the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding

There is an echo, inside some cavernous landscaped sprawl. She lies extended, lolls and stretches in open pockets, yet finds no ease in sound’s reverberation. She is a thundering crack, crackling ripples, rippling an abundance of caverns. And this loneliness … Continue reading

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4/30 – prompt was to write a self-portrait poem

Attempted Self-Portrait The Mirror at our house was so clean. In it’s pooling I could see all my depths, in it’s pooling I could even see the future…miles of it. But it shattered in the move. I’d packed it too … Continue reading

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3/30 – what if Poetry were a species of some sort? what would it be, how would it move?

“poetry is a species of thought” – Howard Nemerov. It is a scratching sound, like long nails scrabbling across the linoleum at midnight. I wake up thirsty after holding it all night. Neither Man nor Animal, its furr recedes only … Continue reading

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2/30 – poem describing the painting “Flamenco” by Justyna Kopania

Flamenco  I see, I see, I see her .. Turn away. I see, I see, I see her .. Hidden in her red dress, she turns away. I see feet welded to the earth, welded & removed & welded her … Continue reading

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1/30 – wherein I write about a world just like Earth, but for 1 thing

No soaring, or sounds as the suns rise. No sillouettes to remind us what came before the crash. Everything in this new world so familiar; Air & water just the same, animals & earth so similar day & night but … Continue reading

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