i dress myself in tears these days not for me, i weep for others orphaned children, childless mothers victims of cruelty and hate
justice denied for those who wait i feel their pain, those who suffer i dress myself in tears these days not for me, i weep for others
for every soul who’s led astray hope one day we can recover learn to care for one another with compassion, kindness and grace i dress myself in tears these days
Well I completely fell off the NaPoWriMo wagon this year! This poem is based on one of the prompts. I’ve been adding a line or two over the past week when i have the time. Along with my day job, I have been caring for a sick pup who requires a special home cooked diet (our other pups are on the diet as well to avoid food nabbing) and with two very large dogs (175lbs and 125lbs) and a small one (20lbs) I am cooking daily along with all the household chores, while my partner works a second part-time job to pay the medical bills for our Winston. we don’t know how long he will be with us but are doing what we can to make his life a good one. How could anyone say no to this face!
In case i didn’t mention it, this is a Rondel. Here are the rondel poetry form rules: 1. Poem consists of 13 lines in 3 stanzas 2. Rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains) 3. Usually 8 syllables per line
morning the dog ... -gotta pee, gotta pee, maybe a poop -eat breakfast, yum yum yum -must have a belly rub or two or three...don’t stop hooman, don’t stop! -take a nap
the cat ... -sit on hooman’s face to wake them up, or finish them off... -on second thought, i need sustenance after the night i’ve had chasing bugs... -let them live...for now -eat breakfast —watch birds outside from the window seat
afternoon the dog ... -gotta pee, gotta pee, maybe a poop -have a treat, yum yum yum -chase the cat -bark at the delivery truck -lick hooman’s face -take a nap
the cat ... -spend a few hours sunning -check in on the hooman who needs to be reminded to take a break now that they work from home and NEVER LEAVE -walk in front of the work screen -type a secret message -shred paper on the desk -hack up a fur ball on the keyboard -toss the so-called mouse on the floor -disappear until dinner
evening the dog ... -gotta pee, gotta pee, maybe a poop -lay on the kitchen floor under the hooman’s feet to supervise dinner making -after one more pee and poop, eat a night night treat. yum yum yum -snuggle up close with my hooman for a good sleep i loves my hooman
the cat ... -loudly remind hooman it’s dinner time -sit on hooman’s head at tv time -after lights out, guard the end of the bed from toe monsters under the covers -wretch loudly several times during the night -race up and down the hallway -sing the song of the night -watch hooman sleep tomorrow hooman...tomorrow
Had some fun for today’s NaPoWriMo2021 – Day 9 Prompt: write a poem in the form of a “to-do list.” The fun of this prompt is to make it the “to-do list” of an unusual person or character. It’s not really a poem, but they say write what you know…
always wanted to retire on an island, not exactly what i had in mind but gotta give it to this place, if disappearing is the goal, it fits the bill, it’s a bit crowded and noisy, but the city gave me my own four walls, a fine pine box actually, kinda’ reminds me of my first apartment, damn, but we were cramped in that place, walls thin as paper, no room to move, the family packed in like sardines, like this place where they stack us three deep...some of the locals say this place has been around for 150 years, there’s folks here from 1918, the Spanish Flu, from that Aids Crisis, and Yellow Fever, this place has some history, more than a million souls rest here they say and now me, plopped here like a time capsule from 2020, from COVID-19, whose time ran out, a day past two weeks sprung from the morgue to make room for more folks with no one to claim ‘em, not that i don’t have nobody, my people, they live out of state, and i didn’t tell ‘em i was sick, didn’t want to worry ‘em, you know humph, wonder how long it will take ‘em to miss me, maybe they’ll find me, maybe not, doesn’t matter much now, peace out as they say and hey, wear a mask
For NaPoWriMo2021 Day 8 Prompt: Today, I’d like to challenge you to read a few of the poems from Spoon River Anthology, and then write your own poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead. My subject is inspired by the Potter’s Field on Harts Island in NYC, now being used to bury the unclaimed victims of COVID-19. Read this NY Times article.
do tell you seem to know all, everything and more only your way is right, i know
but consider if you will, other ideas opinions you may learn something or not...i forgot
your mind’s not open for business is it that you fear being wrong or that i’m right
For today’s NaPoWriMo2021 Day 7 Challenge: pick from – the shadorma, and the Fib, a combo starting with a Fib followed by the Shadorma and ending with a Reverse Fib.
The shadorma is a six-line, 26-syllable poem (or a stanza – you can write a poem that is made of multiple shadorma stanzas). The syllable count by line is 3/5/3/3/7/5
The Fib is a six-line form. But now, the syllable count is based off the Fibonacci sequence of 1/1/2/3/5/8. You can link multiple Fibs together into a multi-stanza poem, or even start going backwards after your first six lines, with syllable counts of 8/5/3/2/1/1.
soft as a whisper, her sweet perfume lingering in the air, tosses wisps of my hair, like a comet, bright, breathtaking, for a brief moment as she flits by, i tilt my head to catch the sound of her laugh, avert my eyes when she glances my way, she’ll never know how my heart flutters when she is near... it’s for the best, i tell myself, i’m not her type anyway
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