Tag Archives: Challenge

the things i would tell you, even though you already know…NaPoWriMo 2019 #15

 

the things i would to tell you, even though you already know…

we’re comfortable in an old shoe kind of way,
like a warm sweater on a brisk autumn evening,
comfortable like a song you know all the words to,
or a favorite book with all the best parts earmarked for keeping.
i know every mole, every hair, the where and why’s of your tattoos,
and the way your nostrils flare when you’re angry,
you’re eyes of blue have flecks of grey and black that change
depending on the weather or candlelight…or moonlight…
my shoulders  remember warmth of your embraces,
my lips, your soft kisses, tasting of tobacco and spearmint,
your heart, with its rhythmic cadence comforts me, grounds me,
your soft breasts are a place where I could rest my head forever,
if you’d let me, if we had the time…twenty years  we’ve danced this dance
reading each other’s minds, finishing each other’s sentences…
you know they said it wouldn’t last but they don’t know you like I do
like an old worn out pair of shoes we are, with a few miles left before we’re through
~kat
(this one’s for T)


For NaPoWriMo 2019 #15 Prompt: write your own dramatic monologue.  It doesn’t have to be quite as serious as Browning or Shakespeare, of course, but try to create a sort of specific voice or character that can act as the “speaker” of your poem, and that could be acted by someone reciting the poem.


liberation – Monday with the Muse

liberation

silent no longer
changed am i
still solitary, reflective…

with words

i smile at the thought
like a powerful
beast, untamed
i laugh and drink wine,
i live
don’t weep for me

~kat

A Blackout/Found Poem inspired by Eileen Carney Hulme’s poem “The Rhythm of Life” (see text below with found words highlighted in bold.)


Rhythm of Life
by Eileen Carney Hulme

The clock is silent
nowadays clocks no longer
need to make
that rhythmic sound of life.

We have moved on
and everything is changed
I am no longer sad
I don’t weep for you.

In still moments
I see you solitary, reflective
running with the wind along the waterfront
with your Walkman on.

Radiowaves carry words
of a song we shared
and I am free to smile
at the thought
of you.

Big and handsome
the scent of you
like a powerful beast lingers
untamed by this world.

I know you still swim with dolphins
in the cold North Sea
I know you still laugh
and drink wine with friends.

I know you live by the seasons
and time is not your enemy,
the clock is silent
I don’t weep for you, I weep for me.

Source: https://100.best-poems.net/rhythm-life.html

 


the Boogie Man – MLMM

the Boogie Man

the boogie man’s not lurking in
our bedroom closets, glowing red,
with dust bunnies, candy wrappers,
socks underneath our beds,
he doesn’t only strike at night despite
the tales you’ve read,
he certainly can’t read your mind
but there’s still cause for dread,
because you see it’s what you can’t
see holding you in fear,
it’s the unknown, that’s threatening
all that you hold dear
scary words like what if, I can’t
blaring between your ears
unconsciously you know him well
he’s right there in the mirror

~kat


For MindLoveMiserysMenagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt: For this prompt I’d like you to focus on creating a portrait of the Boogie Man or some other supernatural being in a very concrete and descriptive way. What does this creature look like? Why does it do what it does? Is it evil or simply misunderstood?


battle him – NaPoWriMo #14

battle him

about this faze where going threw
this ship will write itself in the end
butt weighting is knot what wee should dew
or talk about whether my deer friends
thyme two get reel, hear’s what two due
two forget about the mess where in
let’s knot look back or weight four sum shoo
to drop, thyme two indite evil men
two exorcize are write two vote, yew
no the jig, bridal there power, let
justice raze her scales, give them there do
they’ll waist away inn prison, wheel send
other criminals a massage two,
that crime does knot pay, wee will defend
democracy, butt until wee due
close yore ayes, suite dreams my friends
don’t let this bazaar thyme treble yew

~kat

My apologies to any spelling/grammar ninjas and a disclaimer. I am not responsible for exploding heads, nervous breakdowns or mind blows. Ironically, this poem may make sense if you read it aloud, but you’ll have to get past the words themselves…I don’t recommend it. I’m exhausted now. I need a nap!


For NaPoWriMo 2019 #14 Prompt: write a poem that incorporates homophones, homographs, and homonyms, or otherwise makes productive use of English’s ridiculously complex spelling rules and opportunities for mis-hearings and mis-readings.


mother of my mother – NaPoWriMo 2019 #13

mother of my mother

I remember her like it was
yesterday…my grandmother,
Mary Magdalene, mother of my
mother, confidant, and crone,
teller of family lore, of Russian
gypsies, garden remedies, secrets
of a distant past, in words I once
understood but can’t recall, days
of magic lived with her and my
grandpa, of lumpy cream of wheat,
whiskey-laced toddies, make-believe
reality, fleeting childhood memories
etched in my heart, ultimately part
of who I am…a bit of quirk, tree
whisperer, faerie friend, maker of
art, ‘twas she who taught me how
to see what others overlook, to
hear the voices in the breeze, to
see the acorns for the trees, to
feel the trembling earth with my
bare feet, my gypsy soul, always
home, no matter where or for
how long, clearly where I’m meant
to be, however short, however bitter
sweet, lessons to glean, new friends
to meet, my grandmother, all this,
taught me, leaving too soon, her
wisdom buried, silenced, from the
questions I have only thought of,
left unanswered now, but life goes on…
those sacred strands, connecting
those who came before, however
dim, inform this mother’s mother’s
child, who lives to tell her own
grandchildren tales of old, of
gypsies, whispering trees, of faerie
folk, we’ll listen to the breeze, dancing
on hallowed ground in our bare feet,
eat lumpy cream of wheat, conjure
our own realities of make-believe,
and come to know no matter where
we find ourselves, we’re always home,
never alone, embraced by kin, by
every gypsy soul who ever lived before
and who is living still in us and will again

~kat


NaPoWriMo 2019 #13 Prompt: write a poem about something mysterious and spooky! Your poem could be about something that is mysterious and spooky in a bad way (like a witch), or mysterious and spooky in a good way (possibly also like a witch? It depends on the witch, I guess!) Or just the everyday, mysterious, spooky quality of being alive.


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