Sunday, 30 April 2017

Day 30: Again & Again

Image result for sun and moon

Today the prompt is to write about something that happens 'again and again' ...Here's a little riff on day and night....

Day and Night/Night and Day

Night follows day
morning follows night
moon dips
sun rises

Day hankers after night
moon rises
sun sets
morning tumbles in

Night before
morning afterwards
moon a sad farewell
sun a glad greeting

Morning a beginning
night an end
encore moon
firestarter sun

Night a lullaby
day all talk
moon a conductor
sun an inquisition

Light follows dark
dark follows light; 
moon a mirrorball
sun a star

Saturday, 29 April 2017

Day 29: Biblical

 Image result for the road to emmaus

This poem was inspired by this weeks gospel 'The Road to Emmaus'. Forgive me, but the Bible is full of great metaphors and symbols!


Most of the time
we never know
it was love we encountered,
never recognise it 
as such
until we look back
on hearts
filled with fire
at the words that were said

and the separate roads taken 

Friday, 28 April 2017

Day 28: Jazz Dipodic

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I've tried to do a dipodic verse but I kept going off track... meh! Oh well, I'm keeping with my subject matter's nature!


Al that razzmatazz
is jazz,
which requires
a kind of pizazz
for the free-kickin
rhythms of sass.
Enerved verve
that serves
a bossa nova 
so I told ya,
flamboyant beat
that keeps the heat
drums whistling sweet,
while saxophone emotes
curly smoking notes.
Piano chimes
echoing time,
semi-colon cool
bravado spool;
that never waver.
You got to feel 
its earnest zeal
to really get it,
let it smack hit
every part -
especially heart.  

Thursday, 27 April 2017

Day 27: Taste

 Image result for black coffee and croissants

Today's prompt is to write a poem exploring the taste of something. Immediately I thought -  coffee. 

So it has to be maybe the most memorable coffee I ever had - as part of a breakfast, in Venice. Maybe my most vivid memory of the whole trip! It was Belissimo!

Breakfast in Venice

The coffee pours
like tar:
thick black night
as antidote
to morning.
Tastes like treacle,
smoke and bitter.
Woody deep, rich
as a Vivaldi suite.
Possibility fuel,
laced with intent.

Then the cornetti -
or croissants
with apricot jam
globed at their centres -
What a surprise!
No mere marmalade
but la dolce vita
sugar-spun, pastrified;
the Italian sun
ripening our tongues.
Breakfast, belissimo!
a Byzantine bravo.

The day to come
we're certain,
a feast.

Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Day 26: Space II

Image result for eye compared to cosmos

Inspired by yesterday's prompt... This time on pupils, space (as in the cosmos), and spaces between. Hmmm.


In the space 
between you and me:
infinite matter.

A small circle of black
and the whole world

Infinite worlds 
from the pupils
of your eyes

which speak
in declarative tones:
this is love,
that's the end of that.

Full stops enlarged.
No space for speculation. 

Density of emotion
Black holes 
to lose time in.

Your face fills mine,
and my face yours;
of love 
come full circle.

The space between us
no longer interstellar 


Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Day 25: Space

Image result for pi nk fairy lights

Today's prompt was to write about a small space of some kind.... Chose my current small but cosy room which is always a soothing space to be:


In this 4 x 4 of warm pink light,
heart's haven.
An atrium of readied beauty
honed to skill.
'The soul selects her own society...'
and this is mine: a bloom of a room,
petals enclosing love's quiet din.
Here, where I incubate dreams,
keep everything that is me
with heed collected, reminders to be.
Lullaby's lounge, where night 
remedies day.
Hyper-home for spirit.

Monday, 24 April 2017

Day 24: Ekphrasis Marginalia

Dancing Manicule.From a late 13th-century English manuscript. 

Today's (very strange) prompt was to write an ekphrasis poem (a poem inspired by an artwork) on the very specific art of medieval marginalia (notes on manuscript margins). Found this one above of a 'manicule', or little hand, a common motif apparently in these marginalia. 

Inner Critic

Let me alert you to a minor error, 
point out with rude extended finger
a maniacal blurt and blooper
run amok on unforgiving paper.

I am the beast that lurks inside,
serpent of the subconscious kind,
sharp, slick, doubter from the deep
manacled to any clever clout belief.

A scribble of self-loathing - 'man, I kill!" -
I just want to give you a little thrill
in the right direction. Accept
or I'll claw it all back to inept

Sunday, 23 April 2017

Day 23: Double Elevenie

100 Inspirational and Motivational Quotes of All Time! (23)

Today's prompt is to write a double elevenie, which goes as follows:

The first line is one word, a noun. 
The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, 
the third line explains where the noun is in three words, 
the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, 
the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line’s noun being what it is and where it is.

Well, this seems simple but was so HARD! My final results of about 10+ efforts are below. Inspired by the picture above that caught my eye today on Pinterest. (And don't you just love ampersands...?!)

Points of Note

knots together
at heart centre
a perfect pair forever;

skips ahead
to another conclusion
eschewing truth for space -

Saturday, 22 April 2017

Day 22: Earth Day

 Image result for atlas

I can't do a 'georgic' today as it just sounds too damn boring, but I will try a poem for Earth Day.

I've always been fascinated by the myth of Atlas and how he holds up the world... This poem is dedicated to all those 'Atlas' people out there - doing their best to preserve this world of ours from all kinds of harm.

Atlas, A Dedication

Might is resilience learned
and re-learned by heart. 
Power a gift, a curse, a coup 
of fate, hard-dealt, long-felt.
But Atlas accepts his burden, 
breaks hook and crook
into honour, no questions asked -
himself the only answer. 
Grace, bent back and bowed head,
ego replaced by humility, 
tirelessly, selflessly.
Such is strength, the ability to bear
the weight of a world (yours or 
someone else's).
Such is love, to hold it all, regardless,
in eternal struggle,

Friday, 21 April 2017

Day 21: Overheard Speech

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Oh, struggled with this one... This is kind of inspired from today's prompt but also from another NaPo prompt I saw to write a poem about forgetting...


What I overheard from your eyes
was for mine only. 

Words cannot translate or carry
the weight and worth
of what was left unsaid
for many years
accumulated there now. 

Layers of fossilised memories
I don't dare decipher
or I would forget

how to not remember.

Thursday, 20 April 2017

Day 20: Sports

 Image result for baseball

Today's prompt is to write a poem that incorporates a sports of your choice... Meh, I I can see the potential for metaphors, but this is all I could manage today:

Game of Life

No home runs in my field of dreams,
no 40 loves to measure by,
no surprise birdies or holes-in-one,
slamdunks or hat-tricks,
full strikes or finish lines.

Yes, I've always been
bad at sports.  At best, a sideline spectator
cheering someone else on.
No sweat and glory victory, no losing 
or rush and flush of taking part.

Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Day 19: Creation Myth

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Today's prompt is to write your own creation myth...

(This poem was written with the help of this song ~ Moon :)

Moon Story (Or A Story of Gravity)

Long ago when the earth -
from some cataclysmic collision -
cast aside its heart,
there was born the moon.

Far-flung, the heart hardened
to rock, barren birthplace of pain.
And kept its tethered distance.

For years, it orbited its planet home
content in cratered hurt,
the shock of separation
borne aloft, alone.
Tide-puller, tear-keeper,

melancholy muse-maker.
Satellite ghost of loss.

Yet amidst its scarred terrain -
the Ocean of Storms, the Sea of Rain -
there was named:
Sea of tranquility
Sea of fecundity
Sea of nectar.
Love, can never just die away. 

Now the moon's luminous face
gazes at the earth 
in wounded wonder, knowing 
it can never find its way back
Still, it honours the gravity 
between them, spinning on an axis 
of unending light.

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

Day 18: Neologisms

Image may contain: 1 person, suit and text

Today's prompt is to write a poem with neologisms - that is, new created words. 

Wasn't feeling any subject matter today until I came across this picture above... a man of many (bigly) neologisms himself! Ended up with a few puns too... who wouldn't.


When the President of the USA
met the Easter Bunny
the yolk was on him (ha)

but eggs did roll.
The world, shell-shocked,
from the dumbocracy of Il Dunce 

takes aim where it can.
When politics have become
all bumble and trumpbole, 

we wonder what will be
the fate of the free
with an comandeer-in-chief

of quiffical intent:
a peroxide blonde  
in control of the bombs.

The country cringes
as the bigly bigot
and his confederacy of dunces

lead the way down the rabbit hole  

to Blunderland.
Between the walling and the wailing,

the conning and the trumpetweeting
the thick-witted speech
and bomblastic trigger-treats,

the precedental urge
on us all -
is to weep.

Monday, 17 April 2017

Day 17: Nocturne

Image result for moon as a guitar

Today's prompt is to write a nocturne - a poem about the night. 

I already have written a nocturne here back on Day 9... so today is just a snippet, a book spine poem I did recently:



Rooftop soliloquy 
to the moon:
miss you. 

Sunday, 16 April 2017

Day 16: Letter Writing

Image result for letter writing

Today's prompt was to be inspired by the art of letter-writing....

Love Letter

Dear You:
I never got to tell you any of those things
I always wanted to, so here I'll begin. 
Verbally, I'm the smitten kind, but in inked lines you'll find 
every sentiment of my heart in black and white rhyme, no hiding behind 
coquettish smiles or downcast eyes, for here is love transcribed
in unrestrained flair: every elaborate loop of letter
my extravagant heart when you are near;
truth spilled like a charm in words so true
they make of the page a relic; feelings
as fervent as prayers, faithfully confessed;
phrases sweet with a lover's perfume: all yours, my love, darling;
my heart is ravaged, how I long, how I wish, how I will.
Words like forever and cherish, soon and always -
and when we are together, I remember, I'll never forget,
beloved, betrothed...
But then:
I regret to inform you.
Please return to sender.
Yours sincerely...

etc, etc.

Saturday, 15 April 2017

Day 15: In the Middle

Image result for monument valley

Today's prompt was to write a poem about 'the middle'...

(For some reason when I think of 'middle age' an image of the vast canyons of the American west come into my head, hmmm....)

The Middle

Almost at middle aged
and the way is no easy plateau,
no slip and slide into glide -
despite such beliefs.  

Betwixt and between
past and future,
green light and red 
of go; stop; amber

is not the best place
to be, literally.
Neither here nor there, 
limbo land canyon

of what might have beens
and what might yet be. 
A face-off of Western
degrees. Horizon line 

obscured by fretful gaze
and past monuments
of inconsequential glory.  
Here in this barren valley 

I weigh most
on the centrifugal force
of dream: still time left
to seize the day.

Friday, 14 April 2017

Day 14: Good Friday

Image result for gethsemane

I am not an overly religious person, but the story of Jesus' Passion is quite a compelling one, and I love how artists and writers have interpreted it with more insight and power than the church does. 


This is the place 
where fear becomes too big for prayer.
This is the place 
where uncertainty must be faced alone, 
as friends sleep and the sword of betrayal 
draws near. 
This is the place
where faith falters and darkness rushes in
This is the place
where tears planted long before
begin to bloom and roses weep.

But this is the way it must be.  

Thursday, 13 April 2017

Day 13: For Seamus

 Image result for seamus heaney homeplace

I spent a very inspiring day today at the Seamus Heaney Homeplace Museum in his hometown of Bellaghy. 

And so,  I couldn't but write about it for today's prompt!

Homeplace (for Seamus Heaney)

Here are the annals of a life lived well in words.
Listen, as incantations of rhyme ripple the air

from lilting landscape of language, ornately carved.
Here the scripture of homeplace, recited in hallowed verse.

Here the rhythms of the soul, caught in a net of words:
flutter and clap of feeling, flint-spark and fine-spun.

Here the sounds of love scooped forth in silvered-lines.
Sharpened lead of a mind at play, 'brilliant' personified.

Pen, paper, kite, skylight, school-bag: the props of all his living
bring alive the man, our beloved file.

He rooted our hearts in sky, dreamed anew our greatness.
Here, in this hearth of language, his legacy begun
And we leave, resolved to walk on air, eager to live again
this world of wonder, given as gift, from poet to reader.  

Wednesday, 12 April 2017

Day 12: Alliteration & Assonance

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Today's prompt was to write a poem that makes use of alliteration and assonance. I always use alliteration, infact I'm a little addicted to it... so hopefully I'm focusing on the assonance now too.

(This is what it felt like last night when I was on a poetry writing spree:)

The Creative Process

There's a bee in my brain
buzzing and brazen
that within minutes 
becomes a hive 
of hyper word activity -
thrum, hum and spun -
honey the aim.
A poem wanting to be born.  

Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Day 11: Bop

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Well I agonised over this prompt all day long and decided I was going to ignore it completely! Until tonight....when one line came floating by and suddenly then...this, a whole poem, from that favourite place all the good poems come ~ the blue unknown!:

*Read how to do The Bop here

Indefinite Pronouns

It's not that it didn't mean something, it did. 
We had something, even though in the end
it amounted to nothing. Even though
you were my one affirmative clause.
It's more to do with the fact that it never
got a chance to be anything.

And you were the definite article my heart craved.

From no one, you became someone new.
Not nothing and more than something...
until, all at once, you were everything.
Though the vagueness remained: a question mark,
an exclamation point. Our love incognito, a noun
without a name, a new word and world
that required naming. But when it mattered,
we were deaf, dumb, lame.

And you were the definite article my heart craved.

But some 'thing' did not equal everything
when there was somebody else to consider;
rule-fixer, game-changer. The grammar of love
favouring the sentence already made, pronouns pre-named.
And yet, despite it all, the loss and blame, 
somehow I know, I will love you, indefinitely.

And you were the definite article my heart craved.

Monday, 10 April 2017

Day 10: Portrait Poem

Image result for john williams waterhouse paintings smelling roses

Today's prompt was to write a portrait poem of a person. Mine was inspired literally, by this painting from John Williams Waterhouse 'The Soul of the Rose.'


You are a poem
quiet and true. 
Elaborate at times,
every word a coup. 

Resplendent in rhyme:
what you say
with what you do. 
Rhythm in kind. 

Your heart a metaphor
of everything good. 
Beauty your main

Sunday, 9 April 2017

Day 9: Nine

Image result for moon and stars blue night

Today we had to write a poem of nine lines.... tinkered about with a few ideas for a while until poem this suddenly popped into my head form nowhere really. (Strangely, I think it's kind of a mash-up of the week's earlier prompt of the elegy and the famous 20 Little Poetry Projects prompt...)


Nine lives didn't mean much in the end. 
We wasted them in death-defying melodies
strummed on perfectly-tuned heart strings. 
Incorrigible, the stars and youth. 
How I wished I'd saw you then
in black and white perfection. 
But dreaming never ends, even still.
We followed the moon until it led us
back to our bluest beginning.

Saturday, 8 April 2017

Day 8: Repetition

Today's prompt was to write a poem with a repeated line or word.... this one's based on real-life experience which I found kind of fascinating...


A scroll map of the heart, literally.
All the peaks and valleys of living - 
eating, breathing, thinking, feeling, 
hieroglyphics of quotidian being.

Boom-boom, boom-boom
the sonic beat of life
filters through the gloom
of the MD's room. 

Boom-Boom, boom-boom.
Loud proud systole
filling the air like a shout. 
Proof positive of presence.

Heart no longer a metaphor, 
weary and broken
but a red-fisted muscle 
of persistent proclamation:

I'm alive, I exist, I am  -
suddenly relevant,

Friday, 7 April 2017

Day 7: Fortuitous Poem

Image result for feather

Today's prompt is to write a fortuitous poem.... A weird and fun idea this one!

Changing the rules a bit.... And I think I was subconsciously influenced by Ogden Nash and Charles Simic on this one for some reason!

A Daydream of Luck

A spider on the top of the stairs
came to me in a dream,
unravelling its web
with a pearl of a question 
at its centre. 

A piece of glass, on the sea's edge
saw through my heart
to where you disappeared
and the world too; 
down into the deep swell of sorrow. 

A clock, looking for tomorrow,
sighed your name and a pen
wrote down the time
I stopped waiting on you,
as memories melted into gold.

A feather, flew from grace,
landed in a puddle at my feet,  
when the forecast was pain,
but a poem grew
from under my table 

and began everything again.


Thursday, 6 April 2017

Day 6: Angles

Image result for pennies

Today's prompt is to write a poem about something looking at it from different angles. Don't know where I got pennies from...


Rainy day currency, charming bidder
for thoughts.

Pocket dweller. Wish maker. Luck bringer -
see one, pick it up, all day long...

but they never add up. Declaration
of casual bankruptcy. All-in, all-out.

Yay or nay decider. Flip or flippant.
Value of recognition, sudden tumble of truth.

Minted manna from the heights of heaven -
or heads of state grubbying hands. 

Small change, big claims.
Coppered keen circumference 

of dreams.  
Extinct species now.  

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

Day 5: Mary Oliver

 Image result for daffodils

Write a poem in the spirit of Mary Oliver today... I've read and loved so many of Mary Oliver's poems that I hope this doesn't come out as a blatant imitation...!


Like bunched sunshine the daffodils bask
in their vase on the counter-top
adorned with light. A burst of energy, theirs 
is the colour of gladness, specifically, aliveness
what is otherwise known as joy.
All March they have brightened roadsides
with customary glee, throwing yellow cheers
to passers-by, Wordsworthian observers.
But now, their pretty bonnet heads bow
brown with decay - their part 
in the great annunciation of spring 
almost over. Trumpets that blazed all month
with mirth of days to come 
tuned down
until another year.
And we are sad for their ending,
but too happy with our own beginnings
to be anything less  
than elated.

Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Day 4: Micro-Poetry

Although today's official prompt sounds good, I got carried away today with micro-poetry, after creating a 'poetry station' in my school library. Here's two I 'physically' completed:

Miracle light.
Bird reaches for 
the blue dream
of sky;
day begins. 

In the event of love
be beautiful and true.
Leap into colour,
forget the world.

Blue notes
fall from night
after a storm of beauty.
Invisible magic,
heart's delight.  

Monday, 3 April 2017

Day 3: Elegy

Image result for girl dancing in grass

Today's prompt was to write an elegy. Seeing as today is my birthday (and I'm feeling really old for the first time ever) I thought this suitable...

To the Girl I Used To Be

I mourn her who has gone -
that girl of ten and more years ago 
who lives today only in the green corridors of youth.
She who wore flowers in her hair, heart on a high, 
hands full of dreams, every day a new kind of currency...
all faded now to a mirage memory.

How I long to return to her -
but cynical age has burned her at its stake,
time tarnished her sun-flare glow to shadow.
While time has aged me, she will always remain 
wild and young and free, in those happy halcyon days,
the very best version of me.

Back when I waltzed with the world, hand in hand
and life as I knew it, didn't hurtle by.