2022 NaPoWriMo – Day 24 (Simile)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile.

Sometimes it seems like love is a worn-out plastic grocery bag overloaded with expectation until it begins to stretch and stretch from the weight, so you are left holding two thinly stretched pieces of plastic that you hope will stay intact until you can get home and set the load down.

But instead the bag breaks and spills out all the contents of your heart for everyone to see.

2022 NaPoWriMo – Day 10 (Love)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a love poem.

The stories of embarrassments and awkwardness,
like the time my gum fell out of my mouth during a show,
and hit the head of the person sitting below,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to laugh at.

My childhood memories,
like playing hockey in the streets,
trying to cook eggs in the summer heat,
and my wild dreams, and fears,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to hear. 

My favorite guilty pleasures and adventures,
seasons and regions,
foods and views,
prose and shows.
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to know.

The mistakes and heartbreaks,
like the time I found a love note for someone else,
and all the pain I felt,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to help. 

The people I love, and are in awe of,
who help make me complete,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to meet.

My quirks, 
like the way I don't screw bottle caps on tight,
or say some words quite right,
or the way I exaggerate,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to appreciate. 

My lip glaze,
scents and wines,
I've applied over time,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to taste.

The lines of my life,
outlining my body,
the parts of me I love and hate,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to trace.

The things that make me happy,
a crowded table, full of food and people,
who are always able,
to bring laughter and chatter,
and kids,
I didn't know then, but they've always been, for you to give.

The lessons learned and bridges burned,
the softening and hardening,
the depths and tests,
the swirls and twirls of my becoming,
I didn't know then, but I've always been, getting shaped for you.

2022 NaPoWrimo – Day 7 (Proverb)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. I blended old lines with new ones for this prompt.

They say tigers cannot change their stripes,
but I don’t think that’s right.

I always saw the stars as scrambled in the sky,
until I saw them through your keen eyes.

You pointed out Orion,
with his belt of three stars in a row,
and the Big and Little Dippers,
with their handles and bowls,
and The Twins, two stick figures,
with their arms stretched far,
and The Bull with his v-shaped face,
found first by locating the large red star.

It seems stars can rearrange themselves,
I’ve seen it so myself,
I wonder now, what else I’ve missed as remarkable,
because of what I thought impossible.

I've seen the inner workings of my own heart,
twist and turn,
as it learns,
to love.

I think that's all proof enough,
to believe,
that something can also change with you and me. 

2022 NaPoWriMo – Day 3 (Glosa)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem that glosses, or explains, or in some way responds to another poem. 

I twist your words, folding them into the palm of my hand,

to hold as hope, to superimpose,

onto my own heart.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows.





My life splits into two, one I imagine with you,

seeping into everything I do like blood,

Second, is the truth.

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud).





There is nothing growing here,

but the comfort of my own lies,

and all I try to deny,

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life.





There is no peace,

just the buzzing of what I’d,

say to you if I could,

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide.

2022 NaPoWriMo – Day 2 (Obscure Words)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write your own prose poem that is a story about the body. write a poem based on a word featured in a tweet from Haggard Hawks, an account devoted to obscure and interesting English words. 

Daily, I trudged through the deep snow,

Tired, from the simplest of tasks,

Doing, whatever you asked,

Surviving, the greatest of blows.





I forgot what life looked like in the light.





Still, even in the dark,

I waited for life to bloom.

I weathered your cold heart,

even as it froze my own.





I thought, soon, soon,

life would rise with what I’d sown.





Comforted, by thoughts of spring,

of time working it’s magic on me,

I wanted, I waited expectedly.





Afterwinter,

with it’s failed expectations,

it’s lingering affectations.





I listen for a chirp in the distance,

as proof there is indeed life beyond this.