NaPoWriMo 17

Well, it’s National Haiku Poetry Day, after all…

 

Life’s not absolute.TypewriterGirl-Vintage-GraphicsFairy1

Make a plan to overcome

small plot obstacles.

 

See that girl- red lips

two mile smile, dreaming her dream.

Rewritten.  She’s you.

 

Time to close the book

on scenes that really don’t work

and never really did.

 

It’s your pen, edit-

ruthlessly edit.  Let nothing

remain that’s not true.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NaPoWriMo 16 and counting

When I’m tired, the NaPoWriMo prompt tends to get the heave ho.  I may save it for tomorrow, so stay tuned.  For tonight, however, I leave you with this haiku inspired by the oh-so-handsome, oh-so-flawed Don Draper.

 

Aren’t we all madmen?S6_Don_Draper_(03)

When it comes right down to it

is anyone sane?

 

What?  Not you, you say?

Pour yourself another drink

and think about it.

 

 

NaPoWriMo 15

NaPoWriMo’s prompt today: write a terza rima.   This is a poem written in the following rhyme sequence: ABA BCB CDC  D    The poem can go on for many three line stanzas this way…  but here is my version

Rove the wayward sidewalkdream-quotes

 with needles and green thread.

Take a piece of saffron chalk

 

To circle what you’ve said.

Mend the tattered ivory sheet

Then put your heart to bed.

 

In your sleep you’re fair and fleet,

Blue gems upon your toes

And scarlet wrappers ’round your feet,

 

And so your story goes.

NaPoWriMo Day 13

NaPoWriMo’s prompt suggests using a kenning in your poem.  Kennings are a metaphorical renaming of something, and are commonly used in Viking tales.  For example, an oared-steed refers to a ship.  Well, I tried, but couldn’t come up with just the right kenning.  But thoughts of Vikings led to thoughts of tragedy.  The Bee Gees song Tragedy began running through my head, so a theme of tragedy is also running through today’s free verse.

 

Nobody asked you to shoulderP4112346

every bitter sorrow

across a lifetime.

Look, you’re stooped from the burden—

your battered knuckles

have dragged so long in the dust,

the tender white bones are revealed.

You’re not some tragic Greek,

you know.

Shrug it off.

Well—

Maybe, you are tragic.

Carrying the weight of the world

       believing you’re the axis on which it all turns.