an activist judge
decreed covid’s end
no need to wear masks
eat, drink, live your life, be free
while the plague mutates, raging
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 – Day 26 Prompt: write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines.
Off topic…a tanka for today…just a commentary on the lunacy of our times. Science? Reason? Reality? I’m in no hurry to join the lemmings.
lady of the blue m on
one summer’s eve she came to call
a moonlit vision peering in
rousing me from slumber’s cusp
amidst the wooded hollow’s din
with eyes of green, face white as snow
raven curls from her hooded cloak, cascading,
then whispered she, my name
it would rude of me i thought
to look away, to hide my head
instead i rubbed my eyes in case
it was a dream…”i’m not” she said
“what then, are you, or rather who?”
i might as well engage this sprite
it’s odd i don’t feel any fright
just curious why she happened by
before i could ask her she replied,
“i am the mounded loam beneath
your feet, my voice is sometimes
light, a breeze, or birdsong sweet
and other times it roars,
a tempest swift to rage,
my eyes from green turn steel gray
i smell of honeysuckles, roses too,
lilacs, lavender, and bells of blue
my thoughts are many as the stars
and every wish you’ve ever wished
i keep close, guarded in my heart.”
then just like that, the moon behind
clouds drifted, she was gone
leaving me to wonder if what i saw
was real or just my mind slipping
‘tween lucidity and dreaming, yet
i felt her cradle me, calmed by her breath,
or was it mine, finally i slept
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 -Day 25 Pronpt: based on the Aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live.
etiquette when death comes to call
never send
cut flowers
to the grieving
eventually
they wilt
wither
and die
a dismal reminder
of their beloved
departed
it’s a cruel
thing to do
don’t you see
but if you must send
something green
a lovely potted plant
filled with buds
on the cusp
of blooming
or a tree
one that’s
hearty and strong
a tribute
a celebration of life
a reminder
that life goes on
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo2022 Day 23 Prompt: write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms.
A Friend, A Job, A Painting, A Lie
just the other day
i ran into an old friend
her name? well i couldn’t say…
i remembered then
we were close once, as she walked away
night shift at Denny’s
i kept cups filled with coffee
serving strangers for pennies
and kept company
with other odd night owls like me
intoxicating
her dark eyes piercing my soul
provocatively posing
she draws me in close
ensnared by her charm, she swallows me whole
it’s just a white lie
you’re just trying to be nice
so look ‘em straight in the eye
don’t let them ask twice
bend the truth a bit, that’s my advice
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 Day 21 Prompt: write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.
For today i decided to use the Horatiodet, a short form of the Horatian Ode that I created a few years ago. I wrote a stanza for each part. They don’t really mesh. Not sure if they were supposed to, but it’s on prompt and you get 4 for 1 today! 😊
The Horatiodet is a total of 5 lines, syllable count: 5-7-7-5-9 / rhyme scheme: ababb. In other words, it is a short Horatian Ode (only one stanza), a form based on the style of Horace, Quintus Horatius Flaccus (December 8, 65 BC – November 27, 8 BC), the leading Roman lyric poet.
thinking out loud…a prelude
just listen
let me talk
nod your head
give me an uh-hmm or two
eye contact…i need eye contact
and your time
and your attention,
your presence
i need you to be present
i would do the same
if you needed me too
you know it’s true
i’ve been there for you
so i’m hoping
it’s not too much to ask
at least i hope not
and one more thing,
well maybe a few,
i don’t need you to fix anything
or defend me or get mad
or tell me what i should do
i’d like to figure that out
on my own, as i said
all i need you to do is
let me talk
just listen
-kat
Na/GloPoWriMo2022 Day 19 Prompt: write a poem that starts with a command.
like mercury colliding... 