Na/GloPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo – Day 4 (Dream)

~ Unwrithings ~ 1 Comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem based on an image from a dream. This prompt excited me since I dream often, and have been working on lyrics based on an image from a dream I had! The image was of a man crying strings of rope (I know, weird). Anyway, here is the resulting poem.

My Tears Hang Like String

My tears hang like string from your face,
I tie them up so you can keep my pain.
And you’re sitting there, in your chair, signing SOS in the air
How’d we get here tonight?

You turn left, I turn right, I’m afraid we will never reunite.
It gets harder every time
My only hope is we can undo this end and find a new way to be friends again
Is it okay if I wait for that day?
Or does it make me too afraid?

Oh stranger, stranger can you still love me?
Even if we don’t know who I am?
Oh stranger, stranger will you ever come home?
Or am I to live this life alone?

It’s getting dark, you make a remark, that sounds like a cry
Why’d I? Why’d I? Why’d I?
I have no good reply.
But I want to hide in the past where you can find me, if you ever find yourself  hesitating,
you can always come back to me.

The pressure is getting thick, do I tell the truth to make this stick, or do I open the door
To let in one more lie?
I gotta tie this up tonight.

Why’d I? Why’d I? Why’d I?
Why’d I have to leave?
Why’d I have to believe there was something better for me?
Why’d I have to go?
And leave us all alone?

Oh stranger, stranger can you still love me?
Even if we don’t know who I am?
Oh stranger, stranger will you ever come home?
Or am I to live this life alone?
Or am I to live this life alone?

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NaPoWriMO – Day 3 (Word Bank)

~ Unwrithings ~ Leave a comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem using your new “word bank.” I created a word bank following the prompt instructions but I am only going to post the resulting poem just so this entry doesn’t become too long.

Doubt

I’m burning out,

you’re running cold,

doubts, are overexposed,

in this prison house,

and there’s the constant tickin’

that’s got me thinkin’,

how,

there is no better time than,

now,

to pull the trigger.

But, then I linger,

just long enough,

to not be done,

with us.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 2 (Specific Place)

~ Unwrithings ~ 5 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem about a specific place —  a particular house or store or school or office. With class tonight, my time is super limited so I am building off of a poem I wrote previously!

Arizona

Where wild meets west, the vast sky turns into a real-life painting of mountains burning purples, blues, yellows, reds, and oranges twice a day; a prosaic production. Stars sprinkle the same sky at night, until you crick your neck trying to count them all. On the hottest days, it smells like melting asphalt. But on others, it smells like dusty earth giving rise to life—Javelinas chortling while grazing prickly pear. Rattlesnakes coiling and hissing. Rabbits hopscotching across rocks speckled brown. Lizards darting between low-lying, crackly bushes. Cacti standing guard, arms outstretched, as if offering you a hug.

Here, in the valley, there is space to stretch out. There is fresh air to breathe and time to breathe it. The days are warm and long; the kind of days you want to cozy up to until you fall into a sweet slumber with:

Dreamcatchers hanging
above, snaring bad dreams to
dissolve in the sun.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 1 (Action Metaphor)

~ Unwrithings ~ 10 Comments

I am so excited to participate in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) again. I have been slacking on writing this past year, so hoping this will be the kick-start I need. I enjoyed the experience last time I participated in full back in 2018—check out my highlights reel from that time.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life – one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances. 

Love Is Like Carrying An Overloaded Plastic Grocery Bag

Sometimes I feel love is like carrying a plastic grocery bag so overloaded with expectation that it begins to stretch and stretch from the weight until I am holding two thinly stretched pieces of plastic that I hope will stay intact until I can get somewhere safe and set the load down.

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

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NaPoWriMo – Day 13 (Spooky)

~ Unwrithings ~ 1 Comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is: Write a poem about something mysterious and spooky! 

Child

Broken toys
litter the floor,
A young voice
asks for his green dinosaur,
and a child’s pale face peeks through the door,
just like the night before.
Giggling, whispered conversations are overheard in the halls,
and brown crayon drawings cover the walls.
And yet, no child lives here at all.

I wrote this last year for NaPoWriMo, and I thought it worked for this prompt as well. Hoping to write new poems in the coming days, but just been so busy with work and school. My creativity is at an all time low with all the stress!

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NaPoWriMo – Day 11 (Origin)

~ Unwrithings ~ 1 Comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem of origin.

My strength
is from
years of
weakness.

So, I am totally bummed I missed the start of NaPoWriMo! I had so much fun participating in it in full last year, but got waylaid this year. Better late than never though!

I had lots of ideas for the prompt today, but alas time is limited. I jotted down the quick line now, but I have some notes started for a different, longer poem that I hope to flush out later.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 30 (Fascinating Fact)

~ Unwrithings ~ 9 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem that engages with a strange and fascinating fact. 

I’m in denial that today is the last day of the NaPoWriMo challenge, so maybe tomorrow I will acknowledge that fact. For now, below is my poem about viruses. It draws from the fact that “eight percent of the human genome consists of viruses.” It’s also influenced by Gerald Callahan’s essay, Chimera.

Some of our DNA
are relics of viruses
from past infections
so scientists say.

Envelope viruses like the flu,
carry lipids, protein,
and the stuff of genes,
from the hosts they travel through.

I like to think,
this means:

After years of sharing a home,
and conceivably the flu,
I’ve collected pieces of you,
stored in my chromosomes and genome.

You are not lost, you see,
You make up parts of me, literally,
saved in my “immunological memory.”

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NaPoWriMo – Day 29 (Plath)

~ Unwrithings ~ 1 Comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on the Plath Poetry Project’s calendar. Simply pick a poem from the calendar, and then write a poem that responds or engages with your chosen Plath poem in some way.

I chose April 2, 1962: “Little Fugue” from the calendar.

Black.
The shape
of bodies
in the
dark.

Black.
Boldness
of a
question
mark.

Black.
Fun nights
with friends
Mourning
how it
always
ends.

Black.
Creased skin
wearing
thin.

Black.
The line
counting
time.

Black.
Waiting
rooms of
empty
tombs.

Black.
Shadows
like crows
circling
life every
where.

Black.
The flame
deprived
air.

Black.
The fear,
I was
never
really
here.

Black.
The keys
I type
for release.

Black.
The words:
remember
me.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 28 (Postcard)

~ Unwrithings ~ 2 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We challenge you to draft a prose poem in the form/style of a postcard.

Busted out two responses for this prompt.

1.

I still feel the sting on my face where you tried to put me in my place. I lost my words against the hurt. I already knew, I’d leave you. What kind of man does all that he can to bring a woman down? I spent months crawling on your egg-shelled ground. What kind of woman loves this kind of man? I did all that I can to raise you up, with my love, but it’s not enough.

I’m stronger than you think. I’ve got a voice and I want to speak. By the time you get this letter, I will be somewhere better and the only eggs breaking are for the sunny-side up I’m making.

2.

When I get where I am going, I will say a little prayer, that you get there too.

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