Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo2019

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
(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.

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


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


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.

the children are gone – NaPoWriMo #12

the children are gone

they were never really mine
though i held them twenty years
my dreams faded over time
blood and sweat and many tears

though i held them twenty years
they decided who they’d be
blood and sweat and many tears
all for naught, when they left me

they decided who they’d be
independence lured them hence
all for naught, when they left me
did my best, in my defense

independence lured them hence
gone to live their life and dreams
did my best, in my defense
doesn’t matter now, it seems

gone to live their life and dreams
they think they must turn away
doesn’t matter now, it seems
‘twas a simple role i played

they think they must turn away
my dreams faded over time
‘twas a simple role i played
they were never really mine


A Pantoum for NaPoWriMo 2019 #12 Prompt: write a poem about a dull thing that you own, and why (and how) you love it. Alternatively, what would it mean to you to give away or destroy a significant object?


who am i ? – NaPoWriMo 2019 #11

who am i?

sometimes i go barefoot just
to feel the earth murmuring,
infusing me with nature song,
lilting sweet, fierce…one day
i shall return to those cool, dark
catacombs below to cavort
with the worms and slugs

i’ve been known to hug a tree
or three or more, now and
again to remember how
to bend when tempests reel
and whirlwinds leave me
vulnerable to the cold, in
nakedness, learning to let go

i have floated in still pools and
on the edge of wave-rushed
shores learning to trust in
buoyancy and the rhythm
of all life’s ebbs and flows…
listening to chattering shell
shards dancing just below

i have counted on a thousand
stars, each night another wish
proposed, felt the moon’s
dizzying nudges, helpless as
the ocean tides, cursed the sun
on sweltering summer days
embraced the dusk and dawn

who am i, but flesh and blood,
carbon, hydrogen and air…to
think that i am separate from
everything i see and hear, the
universe is deep and wide, and i,
a blip in time, a dot in space who’ll
one day disappear without a trace.


NaPoWriMo 2019 #11 Prompt: write a poem of origin. Where are you from? Not just geographically, but emotionally, physically, spiritually? Maybe you are from Vikings and the sea and diet coke and angry gulls in parking lots. Maybe you are from gentle hills and angry mothers and dust disappearing down an unpaved road. And having come from there, where are you now?


%d bloggers like this: