bare tree limb tips dipped in green, white and lavender sunlight lingering into the evening, peepers peeping at dusk, worms slithering from the damp dark, bees, butterflies, spiders and ants, buzz, flit and creep, a hint of wet clay, fading leaves and first blooms in the mist and this, the first hummingbird sighting at the nectar jars outside my window it’s official...spring is finally here
NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 13 Prompt: This one is short and sweet: write a poem in the form of a news article you wish would come out tomorrow.
dearest muse you’ve been so silent fill my head with sweet nothings to pour on the page ~kat
dearest kat you’ve been too busy there is no room in your head the page, left wanting ~muse
Still playing catch up. Today’s letters give a clue as to why! For NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 11 Prompt: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a two-part poem, in the form of an exchange of letters. The first stanza (or part) should be in the form of a letter that you write either to yourself or to a famous fictional or historical person. The second part should be the letter you receive in response. These can be as short or long as you like, in the form of prose poems, or with line breaks – and of course, the subject matter of the letters is totally up to you.
i don’t remember when the world turned blue maybe it was when the post-it notes on the ‘frig lost their power to inspire me or perhaps it was when i stopped listening to the nameless portraits on the wall... aren’t they just voices in my own head after all, me trying to preserve my sanity is like using crazy glue to stop a dam from bursting i lost control of everything that late spring into summer into... the seasons are all a blur here behind closed doors, no hope left inside locked, the key tossed into the starry night, into the beautiful purple haze, that faded to grey, the darkness in my soul changing hue, to blue it’s all coming back to me now like loose change in my pocket i realize it’s the little things, things that i can’t forget
NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 10 Prompt: First, find a song with which you are familiar – it could be a favorite song of yours, or one that just evokes memories of your past. Listen to the song and take notes as you do, without overthinking it or worrying about your notes making sense. * Next, rifle through the objects in your junk drawer – or wherever you keep loose odds and ends that don’t have a place otherwise. (Mine contains picture-hanging wire, stamps, rubber bands, and two unfinished wooden spoons I started whittling four years ago after taking a spoon-making class). On a separate page from your song-notes page, write about the objects in the drawer, for as long as you care to. * Now, bring your two pages of notes together and write a poem that weaves together your ideas and observations from both pages.
the world is blooming life bursting from the deep buds to leaves while we sleep dreaming in green
For Tanka Tuesday...catching up this weekend! A short one-stanza Abhanga.
The Abhanga is: * stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains (4 line stanzas). * syllabic, 6/6/6/4 syllables each * rhymed L2 and L3 rhyme. Often internal rhyme is employed. End rhyme scheme x a a x , x being unrhymed.
literally anyone... what is it about bananas and why are they so special
oh i can list a few reasons how do i love thee, fair banana...
almost ripe, firm, smooth on the tongue, a tinge of green, bittersweet
in smoothies, puddings and in muffins and cakes and
quick breads (warm from the oven, sliced thick, slathered with fresh butter) too, long, lean, and luscious, perfect
to eat raw, sliced or mashed, to take along anywhere
already wrapped, delightful to peel such a fine fruit...the banana
who wouldn’t love them
~kat ———————- For NaPoWriMo2021 Challenge - Day 5: Find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. I chose Rita Dove’s poem, “Flirtation” (see below).
Flirtation BY RITA DOVE After all, there’s no need to say anything
at first. An orange, peeled and quartered, flares
like a tulip on a wedgewood plate Anything can happen.
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