Poetry

For Day 18 of NaPoWriMo this year, the prompt is to write an ode to life’s small pleasures. My first cup of coffee of the day is one of those for me. Loosely inspired by what is becoming one of my favourite poems, Wendell Berry’s The Peace of Wild Things. \\\* When the darkness of night lifts and I awake to the dreariness of existing in this place, forgetting where Yesterday ends and Today begins to slip into Tomorrow, I reach for this worn mug, its stained sides and chipped edges reassuring in their durability. At first light I lose myself to the muscle memory of returning and find joy in small sips.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to move backwards in time away.. to write a poem that features forgotten technology. For me, it was my first Walkman. \\\* Farewell, Walkman protector of my ears and overcomer of my fears with soothing sounds. Farewell, Walkman the opener of my eyes to worlds unknown, translator of songs, from thin tape to all engulfing sound. You may have gone the way of all frail things but you live on in the soundtracks of my life.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a poem of over-the-top compliments. Pick a person, place, or thing you love, and praise it in the most effusive way you can. Here goes: \\\* You smile. Your eyes dance. Morning breaks with glorious light. Forgotten, Night’s fears.

Today’s prompt is to write a poem inspired by your favourite kind of music. Here goes, very loosely interpreted as always: \\\* Breathe in with the clash of the cymbals and then out as the drums begin. Let the patter of your feet lose themselves in the patterns of the music of the rain as they rise and fall, pausing like a runner at the crest of a seventh hill. Let the patina of red earth be washed away. Breathe in and out, and dance, Begin again.

Day 14, off prompt: \\\* Nothing hides yesterday’s sins like nostalgia. Nothing rewrites the memories of things seen like the desire to forget, the ineluctable wish to untether oneself from the burdens of grief, and the weight of things lost. For the daughter kneeling here, oblivious of the paths that we have trod we wish peace, that the things which weigh us down may cease.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt focuses on stealing, a challenge to write a non-apology for the things you’ve stolen. Here goes: \\\* The dog-eared book with your name scratched in its tired cover, the familiarity of its worn pages like the scent of home, a welcome. The picture, battered by the sunlight until it begins to age into a sepia blur, reviving memories of a distant time. The song, your song, repeated until its notes invoke the memories of stolen times and places, Lost but not forgotten.

For Day 12, the challenge is to write a triolet. Not a form I’m overly familiar with but given the Easter season and the influence of Patrick Carey on the form in English (who used it for his devotional writing), it seemed only fitting to attempt something with a faith tilt. Here goes: \\\* At first light, she comes to bless the broken body but finds Light in the space where his head should be: discarded dress. ...

The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 11 is to write a poem in which one or more flowers take on specific meanings. I went off prompt for this one though… \\\* They say in the brightness of the right light everything is beautiful, the cuts and scrapes that things bear all birthing beauty in the intricate interplay of flickering light and flitting shadow. So catch the light shine, be beautiful.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a hay(na)ku, a riff on the haiku created by the poet Eileen Tabios . A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. My mind went to self isolation as a metaphor for exile: in both cases we have memories of happier times but are restricted in the present to what we remember, not what we can experience. Here goes: ...

The prompt for today is to write a ‘concrete’ poem, one whose words and space are organised to reflect the theme of the poem. I went with the theme of a prayer and a perfect day. If you squint hard enough, you’ll see the shape is reminiscent of hands folded in prayer :) \\\* First, awake to the sounds of birds chirping, the lilt of their spring song reminding you of rebirth. Kneel in quiet contemplation- yield to the embrace of the rising sun, let its light call out to the prayer lurking in the dark places of your tired heart. When morning morphs into the heat of high noon, cherish the beauty of the cherry blossoms pink against the skies, and when the day slowly slides into the bosom of the night, offer up a libation of red wine for deliverance from today’s troubles. Tomorrow comes tomorrow but till then revel in your perfect day.