Day 6: Ekphrastic

Today's prompt was to write from the point of view of one of the characters from Bosch's painting 'The Garden of Earthly Delights.' Phew! What a mad, MAD painting!

(My chosen figure is the the unicorn-like creature, bottom right of close-up shot.)

Freewill 

You gotta hand it to them-

Adam and Eve, they know 

how to throw a party. 

All the birds and the beasts

and all and sundry.

Such a riotous affair! 
A heavenly revel 
with hell to pay I'm sure.

Past the lake isle of lovers -
and what looks like 
a palace, or prison,
scorpion shelled

and a Fabergé egg.
What indulgent gluttony.
Is that a mermaid? 

And a knight in...shining scales? 

Couples, quite literally,
coming out of their shells
(or a crowd going into one);
a score of scorned faces submerged.

I don't know why I'm here. 
Bringing up the rear -
an unicorn, with a narwhal's horn,
myth mismatched bold.

Round and round we go,
bears, horses, rats, hares,
hooves and harrumphs!,

charge of the nymph parade

a full rush of bloodlust.

It wasn't what I'm used to -
maidens and ideals. 

But this is a place

where running amok 
seems the general idea,

join the flanks and the frolics 
of fowl and foul.

Apples upon apples everywhere -
do you think it's a motif?
A feast of fantasy,
temptation taken. 

The clatter, the maelstrom
the bloody racket
the shrieks and laughter 
the weird characters -

human nature
when it's let go, 
a fruitful free-for-all. 
Eden was just cocktail hour

compared to this.
Oh I should be 
on a carousel somewhere 
adorned in lights -

not this carnal circus show. 

Do you think freedom is a foible

that maybe we will have 
to pay for later?

Day 5: 20 Little Poetry Projects

I love the prompt today...it's brilliant!

20 Little Poetry Projects


Journey

Love is a ship its with sails at high mast,
starboard side windborne, land lasso torn apart. 
Gulls cry overhead, white wings angelic,
messengers of new lands ahead, 
hover and glide on a brine-laden breeze.  
Knot the ropes, twist the twine, roughen the hands. 
Taste the saltwater of tears, and carry on. 
The blue of the waves, a symphony rising. 
Remember poor Sebastien, the Sargasso Sea -
love is a ship at home in its anchored port.
He will marry her in the summer
and you will tholl the pain (like a rock).
Moon pulls tides in the heart too -
each to their merry little own.
The trailing white lace of happiness
a lily-livered corpse washed in sea foam,
I will swing from the top mast and harness the clouds
to my side; 
Aye, S will never win the prize.
When the wind settles, there will be wailing.
A paper boat, a light anchor, up, up, and away. 
East is East and west is wherever, horizon a hangover.
But Ad Meliora, onwards, outwards.
Compass spins a smile in my hand 
while the sails billow, swell with momentum, float over 
a sea stunned with stars. 

Day 4: Dream Images

Today's prompt is to write a poem incorporating dream images.



The Persistence of Regret

'In the gardens of memory, in the palace of dreams, 
that is where you and I shall meet.' 

~ Mad Hatter, Alice in Wonderland

In this palace 
of broken down dreams, 
blue spreads like mildew, 
damp and deep.
Memories rot and merge,
entangle roots.
While a toad squats 
in a washing machine.

Outside, a giant wave 
rises, tsunami-like. 
Emotion overwhelming; 
escape, untenable. 
Time shifts 
in an iridescent puddle.  
The present drowned by the past, 
future a leaky boat. 

You appear here and there - 

like a Cheshire cat, a talisman, 
as luminous or blank 
as the moon.
A curl of smoke in the dark
then gone again.
A broken teacup, a teardrop
tattooed on a face.

Sometimes - 
a labyrinthine rose garden
and no one there; 
petalled peace an opiate. 
Jigsaw bunting of days 
blowing in the breeze. 
Something missing,
like a tooth - or a heart - 

loose, 
  fallen out.

Day 3: Rhyme

Day 3 and today's rhyme generator prompt was such fun! 

Oh, and it was written under the influence of a lot of Prosecco bubbles...! (hiccup....!)

Poetry and Prosecco

For my birthday
at the doorway of April (ever faithful),
I shall drink poetry and prosecco.
The similarities are very art deco -
and the bubbles melt away
all troubles. 

This effervescent feeling
to simply be present
is something good to know
in incessant isolation.
As the crescent of the pink moon
rises in this fabled evening.

But honey still streams in my soul
and I'm lucky, I know,
(this image is no gimmick)
and since it's still sunny
I think I'll go make
a gin rummy...

in this happy hour
where flowers bloom, spirits swoon
and rainbow showers
hang on the horizon,
poetry is a rosary
draped on a magnolia tree.

It's true one slice of cake 
can unmake all heartbreak
and rhyme can kill time.
So I pour some more prosecco
and float away to a meadow
of hearty chuckles and poetry bubbles.

Day 2: Place

Today's prompt: write about a specific place. 
None but the obvious at the moment. Stuck at home and trying to make the most of it. 


Here
  
A sun-banked room, yellow with light.
Front-facing, south-west leaning.
Oubliette from troubled times,
depository of daily dreaming.

Honeycomb hive of interior being.
A library, a lounge, a retreat newfound.
Pink velvet chaise longue, time reclining. 
Books happily hoarded, gathered all round.

Daffodils dancing on the window sill,
a reminder of spring, new light, beginning. 
A neighbour's dog chimes the hours in barks.
Beyond, the horizon a consolation of blue.

A shadow of a black cat slips under a gate. 
Streetlights hum their amber songs. 
Above, the new moon hangs like a jewel. 
This cloister of comfort, chrysalis complete. 

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 1: Self Portrait Poem

Well it's April 1st again....and NaPoWriMo time! Yippee!!!!

More then any other year, I am so glad to have this challenge, this space, as a lot of you probably are as well. 

The prompt today is to write a self portrait of your life in metaphor - using an action to describe it. 

Well I've been musing on this one all day long and it's only now when I sit down to write it that the following appears. That's what I love about NaPo - how it can surprise you.

Here's to 30 new poems, hurray!

Handwritten

Learn the feel of paper again. 

Back to basics, finger and thumb

and the fisted thrum of movement. 

Hold the pen soft, not stilted. 

Let the ballpoint roll wondrously

over its unmarked landscape,

fathoms of feelings unexplored 

yet. Make hesitant pointillist markers. 

Stop; begin again. Back page secret scribble.

Roll the cylindrical case between hands,

warm the ink with your breath. 

Find the slope and soothe of letters,

the best curve at which to create

your own cursive character. 

Link and loop and learn when

to lean down, when to let up.

Marvel at the marked territory,

the dark of a cave, lit. 

Be carried away by the flow -

of blue waterfalling words

tumbling on white paper. 

Day 30: Minimalist

Today's prompt is to write a minimalist poem... Here's a few.

And with that, I say adieu to NaPo! It's been tough and trying but ultimately rewarding!


Dawn

Butter 
walls
churn
dreams

clotted with memories
I rise,
shine;
my own sun

May

Bluebell haze
May days
how blue
the blaze


NaPoWriMo

High jinx
low ink
inspiration
fix!


NaPo Haiku

NaPo is over
we say goodbye to April 
thirty poems richer.

Day 29: Meditation

Today's prompt was to writ a Meditation poem. Just went with what wanted to be written instead.



Distance

The distance between me
and where I want to be
is the square root of the moon
multiplied by infinity.

But when we collide - albeit
momentarily - stars passing
clandestinely, unexpectedly 
every spinning part of me stops

and this endless realm is finite 
if but for a millisecond;
velocity of motion less than equal 
to this unparalleled emotion -

and I am where I want to be.
X marks the spot. Completely.
But I know, this centre cannot hold. 
And part, binary broken, gravity restored.

Day 28: Poetry

Today's prompt is to write a meta-poem i.e. a poem about poetry. I've done this lots of times before, so this is just a random, spontaneous outburst for now. 



Poetry

Poetry is a salve

a honeycomb hive

hi-jinks jester

quicksilver tongue

a field full of wildflowers

bookmarked memories

trapeze of thoughts

mish-mash of unending 'seem'

a fishing reel into the deep

cartography of the heart

dreaming with the light on

the quiddity

of everything

alchemy

inventory of living

power and shine

and keeping extravagantly alive.

Day 27: Sonnet Remix

Today, we had to remix a Shakespearean sonnet to come up with something different and entirely our own.

There's so many things you could do with this prompt! But I've always fancied writing the complete opposite, anti-love poem, riposte to Sonnet 18!


Shakespearean Sonnet no.18

Shall I compare thee to a winter's day?
Thou art more ugly and more miserable
than any leaden January grey. 
Rough winds, indeed, may blow my way
but my opinion will not be swayed. 
Thou art more dull than granite, 
more drab than inanimate,
as forgettable as erasable ink.
Bare as the branches of trees in November,
the sharp chill in the air come December,
and when winter's weary darkness descends,
you dear, are the heart it suspends. 
    So long as I may live and have eyes to see,
    my verse will not speak of you, believe me.