Na/GloPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo – Day 27 (Tarot)

~ Unwrithings ~ 1 Comment

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We challenge you to pick a card (any card) from this online guide to the tarot, and then to write a poem inspired either by the card or by the images or ideas that are associated with it.

Running out of time today, so for this prompt, I reworked a previous piece. I do like the idea of using tarot cards as inspiration for writing so I hope to write more poems later using other cards.

If you want me to,
I will love you.
If you let me,
I will be,
the one you love too.
I would say I do. I do. I do.
If you ever asked me to.

ar06

NaPoWriMo – Day 26 (Senses)

~ Unwrithings ~ 3 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses.

Springling

I don’t want to feel the sun against my face,
offering its warm embrace.
I don’t want to hear the kids outside playing patty cake,
slapping their hands rhythmically,
rabbits purring, or birds chirping happily.

I don’t want to smell the sweet smoke of the first barbecue,
meat patties sizzling, spring’s perfume.
I don’t want to taste the soft serve ice cream,
from the neighborhood Dairy Queen.
I don’t want to see the world turn green,
or clotheslines replacing drying machines.

All that these signs of spring do,
is show that life continues without you.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 25 (Warning)

~ Unwrithings ~ 5 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a warning label . . . for yourself! 

WARNING
Be careful what you say or do,
Or my next poem may be about you.
Leave me mad, sad, or broken-hearted,
I’ll finish what you started
with a few quick key strokes,
I’ll hang you by a metaphorical rope.

easton-oliver-554228

NaPoWriMo – Day 24 (Elegy)

~ Unwrithings ~ 2 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We’d like to challenge you to write an elegy – a poem typically written in honor or memory of someone dead. But we’d like to challenge you to write an elegy that has a hopefulness to it. 

I decided to write a mostly fictional elegy for the purpose of this prompt and to have hopefulness!

You always kissed me goodbye,
no matter how early, or late, or angry.
You didn’t only give the shirt off your back,
you opened your wallet, you home, your everything,
to everyone.
“It’s the right thing to do.”

You didn’t complicate things.
You kept your moral compass with you, always.
It guided you in every action you took,
and in every word you spoke.

You spoke numbers like words,
adding complex numbers in your head
as easily as saying, “I love you.”

I loved the way you laughed at your own jokes,
far longer than acceptable,
and yet I couldn’t help but laugh with you,
even if we looked crazy together.

And that crazy hair of yours,
how it stood straight up,
always at attention, just like you.

It didn’t matter how many years we got together,
it was never going to be enough.

I still see you though,
in her,
in the times she floods my cheeks with kisses,
in how she says hi to everyone, offering her smile,
and nothing but the truth,
in the math tests she aces without studying,
in the way her nose scrunches when she laughs,
and in her musket-brown, wild hair.

You live on still.
You bubble through her veins.
She inherited your goodness,
your life,
and sometimes that seems like enough.

photo-1518517975499-e631de402415Photo by 

NaPoWriMo – Day 22 (Impossible)

~ Unwrithings ~ 5 Comments

Today’s National Writing Poetry Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: Take one of the following statements of something impossible, and then write a poem in which the impossible thing happens. 

I read this prompt first thing this morning so I could ponder it all day and brainstorm an idea by nightfall. But alas, nothing has come to my mind yet so I am winging it! I chose the “The stars cannot rearrange themselves in the sky” statement.

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.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 21 (Myth)

~ Unwrithings ~ 4 Comments

I cannot believe we have hit the three-week mark of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)! Woohoo! Reading the seriously amazing responses others have to the NaPoWriMo prompts really inspires me to keep at it.

Anyway, today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is: Write a poem that plays with the myth of Narcissus in some way.

I liked the story of Echo in the myth and I originally wanted to do a longer piece for this prompt. However, time is limited so I’m going to go with what I have in my head right now and write more at a later date!

I once asked,
“Why do you love me?”
You said simply,
“Because you love me.”

Your love only an echo of mine,
And sometimes,
I don’t know if I have enough,
for the both of us.

MikeWaterfall

NaPoWriMo – Day 4 (Abstract)

~ Unwrithings ~ 14 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We challenge you to write a poem that is about something abstract – perhaps an ideal like “beauty” or “justice,” but which discusses or describes that abstraction in the form of relentlessly concrete nouns. Adjectives are fine too! 

I don’t feel I really accomplished the “concrete” nouns, but unfortunately, I don’t have more time to work on this piece! Hoping to play with this more at a later date to get it more descriptive.

Panic

Wide eyes, hypnotized,
relentless butterflies,
twisted hands, tongue-tied,
soothing lies, gun-shy.
Jumping veins,
and thought trains,
dragging chains,
with my remains.

oldbridge

 

NaPoWriMo – Day 3 (List Poem)

~ Unwrithings ~ 9 Comments

Today’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompt is: We challenge you to write a list poem in which all the items are made-up names.

I decided to make a list of items related to reading (so not totally made-up names), but it’s what came to my mind as an editor! This is…not the best, but it’s my first stab at list poetry at least, or something like it!

I read

Bus signs while commuting,
in between lines while disputing,
and PowerPoints while doodling.

I read

Different takes on history,
but based on facts preferably,
and unsolved mysteries,
that make me sleep uneasily.

I read

Books about dogs who can think and speak,
magical creatures and fantastical freaks,
long hikes that inspire,
and complex science-y stuff that makes my brain tired.

I read

To learn about other lives,
wondrous sites,
writers I like,
and facts for trivia night.

I read

With a pen to mark up words,
with my eyes tired and hurt,
until all the lines blur,
but at least I caught the ‘he’ that should be a ‘her.’

I read

To study, to grow, and to hopefully be,
someone who others will want to read.

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NaPoWriMo – Day 1 (Shame)

~ Unwrithings ~ 8 Comments

For the first time ever, I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)! I will be responding to the writing prompts posted on the NaPoWriMo site each day during the month of April. The goal is to write 30 poems in 30 days.  Today’s prompt is: Today, we challenge you to write a poem that is based on a secret shame, or a secret pleasure. It could be eating too many cookies, or bad movies, or the time you told your sister she could totally brush her teeth with soap. It’s up to you. Happy writing!

When I was nine years old,
My mother went to the hospital,
unable to remember,
her own name,
or that I was her daughter.

There she battled for her life while
I went on with my life,
never missing a day of school,
where people would smile,
and teachers would ask if I was okay.
Of course I was okay, I thought.
And the house, already big, only seemed bigger,
without the person who made it home.

The waiting, like a quiet room filled with tension.

Finally I got to see her, lying as pale as the sheets that covered her hospital bed,
with her arms outstretched,
I was happy she knew who I was,
but I didn’t hug her,
because I was afraid her brain disease was contagious,
and I didn’t know any better.
My mom returned home weeks later,
but she wasn’t who she was before.
She was using new words,
and forgetting the words,
she used to know so well.
She was different,
and yet no one questioned it.
We just smiled at her, loving her,
not for who she used to be,
or who she would become,
but for the whole process that she was.

And years later, I found myself wishing I had
hugged my mom.

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