Why Not?

Na/GloPoWriMo Day 30: Final Challenge,  try your hand at a minimalist poem. What’s that? Well, a poem that is quite short, and that doesn’t really try to tell a story, but to quickly and simply capture an image or emotion

 

Words and thoughts

meant for the page

not the air

the point and click same day delivery generation

created a new art form

Pwoermds

It’s really a thing

it’s really a word.

The Shady Tree

Day 29 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2019 : Today’s challenge is to blend these concepts into your own work, by producing a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully

 

Maybe

if I smile more and dress in pasty oatmeal  colors

and hold open doors

and let everyone else pass through

and thank them for the chance

to serve them, to help them, to be there for them

 

One day I will fit in.

 

Maybe if I walk slower

and think slower

and give up my favorite spot

under the shady tree where me and my dog rest

after our long walks

and scuttle and hustle behind everybody else instead

 

One day I will be rewarded

and be allowed to fit in.

 

Maybe if I agree

I was not right, I am never right

where did I get these silly ideas of mine?

If I turn off the lights

behind my eyes

 

I will be allowed to fit in.

 

Or.

 

I could just be me

a flawed and imperfect Soul

sitting under a shady tree

with the best dog in the world

 

and not worry about

ever

fitting in.

Pumpkin Seeds For Brains

Na/GloPoWriMo 2019 #28: Challenge Write a meta poem or  poem about poetry:

 

Do you know that thing you do to words Anita?

That thing where you bang them together on a page and you

cut and nail and draw all over them

and in the end you stand up and  call  your Freak show of malformed words

Poetry?

 

Don’t do that.

 

Poetry should flow and dance

and leave a trail of starlight  in it’s wake

It should shush you into silence

it should make you feel light and

you should always

but always

sit in reverence

as you read it, hear it absorb it into your unyielding skin

like flowers

in a field

feasting on sunshine.

 

So in all politeness I reply:

 

I have pumpkin seeds for brains

and a dark place in my chest where my heart used to be.

I always write about the things crawling and nesting  inside of me.

 

I am like  Poetry’s weird Auntie

who shows up at Funerals

and laughs at the graveside

as the coffin is being lowered into the ground

and everyone wonders as they stand there silent and somber

 

” Who in the Hell invited her?”

 

 

And Nothing But The Truth

Day 26 of Na/GloPoWriMo 2019: Today’s (optional) prompt is centered around repetition. Repetition is at the heart of the rhetorical strategy of “Duplex.” We engage with it daily in the choruses of songs, and it’s long been recognized as one of the ways to keep a listener’s attention and create a sense of satisfaction or closure in spoken or written language, whether that language takes the form of a speech or a poem or even a comedy routine. Many forms of poetry expressly require or rely on repetition – for example, the villanelle or pantoum.

 

This is the truth and nothing but the truth so help me God:

Robert Johnson

did not sell his soul

at the crossroads

to the Devil

so that he could play the Blues

 

Robert Johnson

did not go to Hell

after he died

because he sold his Soul

to the Devil

so that he could play the Blues

 

Robert Johnson

was never at the

Crossroads

with guitar in hand

calling the Devil Forth

to sell his Soul

so that he could play the Blues

 

I know it for a fact,

I know this is true

because I am always at the Crossroads

and I know who has been there

because I am always here

when it’s time to pay up and pass through.