Thursday, April 11, 2013

Day 11 - Free Write

Final night of being sick I was tired of being in bed - yes that is possible.


It starts at my finger tips
and calves -
       as if they're expecting
       a quick get away
       or deflection.

I never know what
to do with my hands
       so I draw
       diagrams of how this
       disease can help make
       my life that less

I keep moving my
legs hoping they'll
       wear each other out
       as if rubbing them together
       would burn this feeling

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Day 10 - Free Write

Okay, this one is pretty lame but I had this poem in my head while on loads of flu medicines.

This Is Just To Say
by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

So here's mine - obviously not at great as WCW's but a weird drug induced attempt

Dear Pen
   Yes you are
   so bright blue and silver

I just couldn't let
you lay untouched
on a dirty counter top

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Back to life

Sorry for the delay but have been battling the flu for 3 days. I promise to be back tomorrow!

Day 9 - A Letter

So there I was - lying in bed, in the cool dark bedroom with a cold towel across my forehead - and then the crying of an infant. The downstairs neighbors have a teeny tiny baby and I'm not sure if it was "maternal instinct" or that it was 3AM that I woke up and wrote this.

A Letter of Complaint

Dear Sir or Madam
     I congratulate you on
            your success of procreating.

I marvel at your way of
      not paying mind to your baby.

I especially love it
     when it cries downstairs at 3AM.

Every. Single. Morning.

So, please kindly stop these notes
        left on my door.

I know my dishwasher is
      on at 6AM.

Your Neighbor

Monday, April 8, 2013

Day 8 - Free Write

On this day, the temperature reached 92 degrees --- I can almost taste Summer. I'm both excited and terrified of this Summer, I think it's going to be record breaking heat (scary) but I do live in an apartment with a swimming pool (not so scary).

A Love Song for Summer

Actually -
     a loveish kind of
     song for the upcoming
     TEXAS summer.

Summer -
    You will come without
    warning within the
    next 21 days.

    and you will burst
    all over flowers and
    and hills and make
    living here

When does Fall start?

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Day 7 - Free Write

This one was written under the influence of flu meds and 14 hours of rest and reading Jane Austen.

The Soloist

Lying in bed I
       hear the soloist.

racing and rummaging
through the hollow chambers -
where are they?

Who shows up late
         for a soloists' recital

Where has all decorum gone?

Do they not see -
         see how long I've practiced?

Can they not hear
         the echoing, resonating
         palpable sound of my solo performance?

Where is my symphony?

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Day 6 - Sick and in bed

So I wrote this in during bed rest - I promised myself I'd keep up with NaPoWriMo but getting the flu kind of stopped me. So here.

Being Sick

How I love to
     send the email to work

"I cannot come in today
for I am ill and
highly contagious."

Everything else
     about being sick is

"I cannot wait for the day
when I am well and
able to eat food."

Friday, April 5, 2013

Day 5 - Free write

I didn't go with the NaPoWriMo prompt so I came up with a different something.

Also it's 12 minutes late :S

Untitled (for now)

Eventually the very silent
- Only heard by whales
echo of my heartbeat
will be charted across the ocean floor
- and never be heard.

Like the lonely jellyfish -
skirt floating in desperate
slow motion-
This woman could never
catch fire if she wanted to.

Tomorrow the stars will
still shine at night except
under the black, mercurial
abyss where her heart
beats alone and starlight
- never touches.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Day 4 - A Series of Unlikely Explanations


"... from the Scottish science fiction writer Iain M. Banks... his books often have spaceships in them. And those spaceships have extremely odd, poetic names. So your challenge for today is to write a poem with a title drawn from one of these spaceship names."

I've picked the most dramatic (I think) of them all: A Series of Unlikely Explanations. I'm reading Jane Austen's Persuasion right now (my yearly read) and I think the spaceship name is a spot-on phrase for this book. So hopefully I'll get it down before midnight and for whoever reads this - enjoy!

A Series of Unlikely Explanations

When he first saw her she was
     still in bloom.
He had nothing to his name
     except for adventure -
     She only needed to escape her home.

There could have been no two 
hearts so open,
no tastes so similar,
no feelings so in unison.

A duty to her elders
   cowed into a corner, the only way out -
   to break his heart
He expected a
   swift death on a ship
   at war and could only
   fight against her explanation of being so easily persuaded

A man does not recover from such
devotion of the heart
to such a woman!
He out not;
he does not.

To explain away their
    hearts and passions-
    a war, relocation, almost engagements,
    pride, anger, shame, modesty -
    the excuses had run dry.

I have loved none but you.
Unjust I may have been,
weak and resentful
but never inconstant...
I must go, uncertain of my fate.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Day 3 - Sea shanty


"I challenge you to write a sea shanty"

The first and only "sea shanty" that comes to mind is The Decemberists, Shanty for the Arethusa. It has the sound of a creaking boat and sometimes you can hear the wind. Also, according to Wikipedia and a few run ins with Arethusa in reading some Greek mythology:

"Arethusa (Ἀρέθουσα) means "the waterer". In Greek mythology, she was a nymph and daughter of Nereus (making her a Nereid),[1] and later became a fountain on the island of Ortygia in SyracuseSicily."

I'm not too good with rhyming poems but I do love alliteration which I think is as close as I'll get to rhyming. So here's a little sea shanty for this cold, gloomy, rainy-after-a-great-deluge-day and I'm going to keep with the Greek mythology idea. Hope you enjoy!


Sing slow and slip a string of slippery rope 'round their necks.

Sweetly, sweetly drag them down.

Catch the current to creep
below their creaking crates and capture them all.

Sweetly, sweetly drag them down.

Follow the fellows for fun and feast and fold them firmly into the freezing fathoms.

Sweetly, sweetly drag them down.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Day 2 - Are you calling me a liar?!


"Today's prompt is drawn from an idea that K. H. gave me - that of a poem that tells a lie... I suppose it all comes down to what you want to lie about!"

I was just thinking about this yesterday actually - about lying. Sometimes I catch myself right in the middle of a while lie especially during a converstion between someone I just met and wonder where the hell did that come from? I'm not trying to one-up the new acquaintance, if anything it's just to keep the conversation going no matter how akward it gets. Actually, the more and more I think about it the more I realize... I've done this a lot. 

The Art of Telling Lies

The only preparation is
If you must speak first start with
If you have the time to do some research
               search "compulsive"

These are just a few words to
go by if you ever find yourself...

Trapped in a corner
at a party
with nothing to say to anyone
although there is
that one person who 
has to talk to you.

My name is ________, it's a family name really.
Apparently, my great-great-great-great-great
grandmother was a fallen warrior in the battle
for the Alamo.
Oh, you're a Texas history substitute teacher...

And if you ever get in trouble
just say, 
"I couldn't help myself. My meds are in my other purse."

Monday, April 1, 2013

Day 1 - a day of firsts

"And now, our prompt! Continuing with the theme of firsts, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that has the same first line as another poem."

So I already picked my first line from the poem I put up earlier this week Arabic Coffee by Naomi S. Nye.

It was never too strong for us:
the south Texas sun right before
Summer officially started.

I can still feel the tree bark, rough against my raw hands.
I can still feel the pillow thick, prickly grass against my neck.
I can still feel the dry wind, burning against my sun tanned dirty legs.

Still climbing and grasping for that perfect summer day,
in Texas,
no clouds in the sky and a cool 95 degrees.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

4 days until NaPoWriMo 2013 begins again

Just a little something to help me get back into writing again. Oh and also this -

Naomi Shihab Nye

"Her poems speak of ordinary things -- things we take for granted until it's almost too late." - Bill Moyers