Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo2018

Le Bateau – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 30


Le Bateau – Paper Cutting by Henri Matisse – 1953

Le Bateau

art display
a faux pas expose’
in gouache, fuchsia and Parisian blue

painted paper cut-outs applied with glue, askew
Matisse would roll over in his grave if he knew
that they hung his painting upside down

‘twas the talk of the town
sinking scow


A Trois-par-Huit for NaPoWriMo 2018 – Day 30 Prompt: write a poem that engages with a strange and fascinating fact. I chose Art History and the story of the Matisse painting that hung upside-down in the New York Museum of Modern Art in 1961.

From Wikipedia:
Le Bateau caused a minor stir when the Museum of Modern Art, New York, which housed it, hung the work upside-down for 47 days in 1961 until Genevieve Habert, a stockbroker, noticed the mistake and notified a guard. Habert later informed the New York Times who in turn notified Monroe Wheeler, the Museum’s art director. As a result, the artwork was rehung properly. The museum currently houses the piece in the “Final Works of Henri Matisse” exhibition.

Black on Black – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 29

it’s slimming, you know, blackish on black
but too many layers, just make me look fat
oh I could be goth if I wasn’t so blond but
I’ve got the pale down pat, so there’s that

still I like things bright and cheery, alive
it helps keep me sane and it helps me survive
without light I’m doomed, a misery glut
we creatures of habit need sunlight to thrive

yes, I’ve had my fill of doldrums and gloom
of lunacy’s folly, of shuttered dark rooms
of drudge on a schedule, of digging a rut
of omens and ominous warnings of doom

I choose to avoid the downers in life
drama, angst, those unnecessary strifes
I’m partial to black ‘cause it hides my fat gut
but don’t let that fool you, my blessings are rife


For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 29, Prompt: write a poem based on the Plath Poetry Project’s calendar. https://plathpoetryproject.com/write/calendar/ Simply pick a poem from the calendar, and then write a poem that responds or engages with your chosen Plath poem in some way.

So, I read a few Plath poems. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but her poetry is a little “out there”. I know, this, coming from me. SMH. I finally settled on “Crossing the Water” (see it below). It’s the only one that my simple brain could make any sense of. It’s about things black and bleak and foreboding, deep. I get that. Oh yes…I get black in that sense of the word. I have medication for that. It helps me see glimmers of light, just enough to pluck every day miracles from the chaos. But since today’s prompt is asking us to go there…I’m game, but only for this challenge. I prefer chasing butterflies. And now that I’m finished crafting today’s poem I change my mind. I lied…just couldn’t let myself go there. Sorry Sylvia, you’re on your own.

Crossing the Water
by Sylvia Plath

Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people.
Where do the black trees go that drink here?
Their shadows must cover Canada.

A little light is filtering from the water flowers.
Their leaves do not wish us to hurry:
They are round and flat and full of dark advice.

Cold worlds shake from the oar.
The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes.
A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand;

Stars open among the lilies.
Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens?
This is the silence of astounded souls.

You Shoulda Been There – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 28

Forgive me for not saying goodbye this time. I tried to tell you, nagging, you called it, but you can’t say I didn’t say it a thousand times, our conversations devolving from engaging discussions about the mystery of us, to heated one-sided rants that were less about uncapped toothpaste tubes, more about the mystery of us, shattered. You know I already said goodbye, you do, screaming it at the top of my lungs, and sometimes in whispers, muttered under my heated breath, I’ll give you that, but the truth is, you stopped listening…and so there is this, a postcard from the edge. I’m not sorry you’re not here, don’t miss me, not that you will, now that I’m gone…I promise not to write.


For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 28, Prompt: draft a prose poem in the form/style of a postcard. Pictured, is an actual vintage postcard from Palo Alto, California. I added the caption. And the sign, as suggested by my friend Peter at Peter’s Pondering. 😉 I wasn’t sure how to pull off a proper prose poem, so I started with a free verse and then eliminated the line-breaks. At any rate, I loved this bizarre postcard and imagining who might send it!

The Fool – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 27


on the fringe
boundaries, unimpinged,
the alchemist follows his bliss

a dapper fool who peers into the dark abyss,
dares the fates and leaps on wings of faith; does all this
innocence intact, not jaded

safety’s overrated


NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 27 – Prompt: pick a card (any card) from this online guide to the tarot, and then to write a poem inspired either by the card or by the images or ideas that are associated with it.

I found a site where I could pick a random card for more of a challenge and, as the cards would have it, I chose the Fool. (Why am I not surprised!) I also decided to try a challenging new poetry form (I’m crazy that way 😉) called a Trois-par-Huit (Three-by-Eight or Octa-Tri for short) by Lorraine M. Kanter.


The Sweater

The Sweater

Sometimes I wrap myself in thin
green, shetland, stiff with age, smelling
of moth balls and stale dust,
to remember. It’s all I have left
of you…a sweater that’s starting to
unravel along the edges. Like you,
those final years, unraveling,
spiraling into an abyss so deep,
none of us could have saved you.
I know that now. It’s strange.
Your sweater, just an old wooly
rag really, hints of Old Spice
aftershave wafting, when I press my
face into its course, wiry fibers, has
saved me from the edge more
than a few times. I guess that’s why
I can’t part with it.
I suppose I never will.


For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 26. Prompt: write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses.

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