civilization left to gerrymandered right exposed their dark side, extreme-powered corruption, chaos-fed barbarism,
where democracy was devoured by madness and pro-life killers
~kat
NaPoWriMo 2023 Challenge Day Twenty; Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a “World’s Best Grandpa” coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone.
Today’s prompt took me down a dark rabbit hole. Things right now are completely mad. I can’t imagine what future generations will think of us. The poetry form: a tanka/senryu combo.
i am not a fan of flying and you can take the stairs, not me i get queasy, knees, weak, wobbly fear of heights is terrifying it’s downright debilitating for as long as I remember been a reticent ascender with feet on terra firma set but haven’t missed a vista yet a snail’s eye-view, full of splendor
~kat
NaPoWriMo 2023 Challenge Day Nineteen: write a poem about something that scared you – or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today.
For today, a Décima poem:
Décima poetry is a 10 line stanza with 8 syllables per line. The rhyming pattern is abbaaccddc. Using the 10 lines there are generally two ways to organize: The 10 lines, or breaking the 10 lines into two stanzas using abba/accddc.
arrogant as always, because you believe, (conceit with a capital C) you deserve extra, first-class-grade grandiose homage, how indulgent, how insolent, insulting in fact just keeping you in luxury…how loathsome, mean, offensive particularly privileged, quintessentially rude and revolting is your self-absorbed, self-centered self to think that others are under you, useless, except to be used to voluntarily venerate your value, wait on your every want, whim, and wish…x plus y always equals you, yourself, and you, you, you it’s zaniness, that’s what it is just zip it…the world owes you zilch!
~kat (too much??? I hear you thinking…sheesh kat! tell us how you REALLY feel!!! Haha!)
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day Eighteen: write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet. You could write a very strict abecedarian poem, in which there are twenty-six words in alphabetical order, or you could write one in which each line begins with a word that follows the order of the alphabet.
if I were the least bit honest I would lie to you tell you everything is going to be okay that we will get through this you and me that one day we’ll look back and laugh at how silly it was for us to worry I would tell you this and more because it’s what you need to hear most right now but i’m not honest, not one bit the truth of the matter not that it matters is that I’m terrified this might not end well for you, for us… we just don’t need dishonesty when we’re hanging by a thread
~kat
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day Sixteen: Today’s prompt is a poem of negation – yes (or maybe, no), I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like.
it was a brief moment in time an open window when we were convinced that girls could be smart and successful, that girls could be treated as equals, that their thoughts and opinions mattered, it hasn’t been long since girls could grow up and be anything they dreamed that they could be, and for a second we were assured that our bodies were our own, that our lives had value, gone were the days when we couldn’t vote, or own property, or drive, or choose how to spend our futures, free from the need to defer to our fathers and then to our husbands to get along in this world.
They lied to us you know. Let us taste freedom and a bit of equality (for less pay) and autonomy over own bodies, and the right to choose how to care for ourselves… they never intended for us to get comfortable, they didn’t like it when we started thinking for ourselves, when we stopped asking permission, when we called them out for not accepting that no means no, for expecting to be treated with respect.
I learned how to manage, like those before me, my mother, her mother, before the brief moment flashed, I learned to smile demurely, to avert my eyes when it was not my eyes they wanted to see, but my breasts, I learned that it was easier to make coffee in the boardroom, I learned how to suggest an idea and then applaud my male counterpart when he presented my idea as his, I learned how to juggle work, home, raising the children, I learned how to burn the candle at both ends without getting burned… I thought I was being a team player, thought I was doing what was expected of me, but there was no team.
It's not the life I hoped for you, my darling daughters, and it breaks my heart to watch that brief moment slip away. I didn’t raise you to be chattel I didn’t raise you to be less than.
Please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t lie when I told you that you can be whatever and whoever you dream to be…I still believe it is possible, and I intend to fight for you and your rights until my last breath…I have learned to look them straight in the eyes, dare them to objectify me, to present my own ideas, and tell them it’s time to make their own damn coffee… and while they’re at it, bring me mine.
~kat
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day 14: Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).
Kind of on prompt…not satire, but definitely inspired by the amazing poem below by Gabriel Okara. Peace Y’all. Happy Friday!
Once Upon a Time by the Nigerian poet Gabriel Okara
Once upon a time, son, they used to laugh with their hearts and laugh with their eyes: but now they only laugh with their teeth, while their ice-block-cold eyes search behind my shadow. There was a time indeed they used to shake hands with their hearts: but that’s gone, son. Now they shake hands without hearts while their left hands search my empty pockets.
‘Feel at home!’ ‘Come again’: they say, and when I come again and feel at home, once, twice, there will be no thrice- for then I find doors shut on me.
So I have learned many things, son. I have learned to wear many faces like dresses – homeface, officeface, streetface, hostface, cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles like a fixed portrait smile.
And I have learned too to laugh with only my teeth and shake hands without my heart. I have also learned to say,’Goodbye’, when I mean ‘Good-riddance’: to say ‘Glad to meet you’, without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been nice talking to you’, after being bored.
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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