#30poemsin30days on A Geek's Life

NaPoWriMo Day 30 - Times and Seasons

Thu, 30 Apr 2015 20:42:52 +0000

With time one learns there are no real endings, only times, and new seasons…

--- NaPoWriMo is a wrap for this year, even though I never did get round to completing the Day 14 challenge. Big ups to La Reine and Tolu who challenged and inspired along the way… Bring on 2016!

NaPoWriMo Day 29 - Giving Stars

Wed, 29 Apr 2015 20:26:23 +0000

[ Source]

Four stars for the Chelsea boots in brown; five from Wood, for their soft leather and inner cushion, for how easy they fit his wide feet and how they arrive in time for spring and the promise of new beginnings.

One star from Miles, for how they fall apart; split at the heel after seven months of use; for how they’ll harm your feet, and fall apart as though sawn in two.

NaPoWriMo Day 28 - Bridge

Tue, 28 Apr 2015 23:25:00 +0000

In the unknown you clutch vestigial memories of night journeys and of trains and being surprised by grey granite segueing into lush greenery

but once you cross the Bridge across the Firth of Forth Hope awakens ‘Cos you’re Home.

On train journeys, coming home and the Forth Road Bridge for the prompt for Day 28 at NaPoWriMo, a truly gorgeous sight on a (rare?) sunny November day as I found many years ago…

NaPoWriMo Day 27 - How To Make Small Talk

Mon, 27 Apr 2015 12:05:09 +0000

Pause, On the corner of Kings’ and 23rd North West and smile, let your face crumble like a cookie dipped in spring milk.

Tell her the musky scent of her perfume reminds you of spring wafting in on the wind heady, yet subtle, hardly felt.

Moan about the weather, of snow pelting down like hail of sunshine shoved into a corner by clouds and then nightfall

When you find she’s clutching Chaucer to her chest and McEwan in her bag, read her a line from Komunyakaa: ‘I took seven roads to get here and almost died three times’*.

NaPoWriMo Day 26 - The Leaving

Sun, 26 Apr 2015 19:47:13 +0000

For Mag 267

You and I are sweeping up the shards of something blithely broken, something shattered into a thousand jagged things, by this weight, this unshifting burden of this we, we nearly were.

There is leaving, and then this, Leaving, headed west, chasing closure, across the valley, beyond which there is no returning.

NaPoWriMo Day 25 - Delirium

Sat, 25 Apr 2015 21:42:22 +0000

[ Source]

You feel the fever the morning after the strangers leave, engorged by their suckling of your life sap. The gift they leave is the delirium. Dry skin, heavy head and the shivers; the sense of warped time and a bubble of discomfort They rob the future of the joy of present presence- one dies every minute but for those who escape there is only the burning burden of relief.

For World Malaria Day… And the one child every minute stolen from our future by the disease.

NaPoWriMo Day 24 - Shall I Compare You to a Harmattan Day?

Fri, 24 Apr 2015 21:52:00 +0000

Shall I compare you to a harmattan day? You are far more refreshing, than palm wine. Strong winds do bear the Sahara’s clay But in your shade, is rest divine.

For the NaPoWriMo Day 24 prompt - to write a parody of a famous poem; in this case Shakespeare’s sonnet number 18. Catching up..

NaPoWriMo Day 22 - Basking

Wed, 22 Apr 2015 16:25:23 +0000

[ Source]

--- Rabbits nonchalantly nibbling at grass, whiff of daffodil scent, beer-bellied men, bare chested; women, pale armed seeking sun. Spring’s sprung and like moths to flame we bask in its warmth.

--- For the Day 22 prompt at NaPoWriMo; and Earth Day.

NaPoWriMo Day 21 - For Justice

Tue, 21 Apr 2015 17:25:22 +0000

For Prompt #21 at NaPoWriMo - Erasure, and an inexplicably unsettling Ted Talk by the International Justice Mission’s Gary Haugen, even though this probably doesn’t count as an erasure poem.

– I’m not much of a crier- In Rwanda tears just aren’t much help Compassion - cum passio - mean(s) to suffer with Up close to human suffering.

Your first introduction Might have been We Are The World. A mom from Zambia, three kids, Widow, coals on the cooking fire Completely cold, watch Peter suffer, grow cold.

NaPoWriMo Day 20 - Lessons Learned

Mon, 20 Apr 2015 23:38:23 +0000

A bloke can do no worse Than believe his own hype Unless it is to hope That a grand Messianic gesture Might turn the ebbing tide of Love, Where a simple one would do.

For everything there is a time And a season for everything under the Sun But what virtue does Hope have unless She stir in dire times?

NaPoWriMo Day 19 - A landay for parting...

Mon, 20 Apr 2015 17:55:13 +0000

Parting is all we know of hell* Heaven the delightful linger of the touch of love’s spell.

--- For the Day 19 prompt at NaPoWriMo; not quite a formal landay but this will have to do :) *Paraphrased from Emily Dickinson’s My life closed twice before its close (96)

NaPoWriMo Day 18 - Answers...

Sun, 19 Apr 2015 19:27:48 +0000

With these two feet I begin This journey, of probing and inquiry A thousand miles stretched taut Like a string. Losing itself in the Distance between here and there A road untraversed separating This beginning - hallowed ground And that distant pleasure dome.

One cannot escape the lure Of mystery dived head first into, The call of the unknown, enthralling, Siren-like, borne on the wind like Pollen from a flower to its receptacles; A birth,new beginning from wanton waste.

NaPoWriMo Day 17 - Cobbled Together

Sat, 18 Apr 2015 02:42:44 +0000

If you came in late Naiman’s banned from Hearthstone- Attempted to judge this lady in Ten tailored jogging pants.

Fold up the paper map You should get lost This May you can get A lot of writing done

– This has been cobbled together from tweets by @BillSimmons, @DailyDot, @DamiOyedele, @Esquire, @NYTimes and @BLoreWriters in response to the Day 17 NaPoWriMo prompt to write a “social media”-style poem, quoting from friends’ texts, tweets, FB status updates, twitter accounts, and blogposts, and the back of the cereal box on your breakfast table.

NaPoWriMo Day 16 - Questions for *Ella

Thu, 16 Apr 2015 07:04:52 +0000

Sometimes a thing is just a thing with no stakes* And the ardour of a mid summer’s night kiss just a fling, A memory lingering long after the act like shimmer of dusk on a lake.

Sometimes the moment is all there is to everything, A gift to savour, like the sparkling stones a river brings To its delta, ground round by their unseen journey.

When the hoops begin to multiply, and everything becomes a drudge Does it mean the dream has begun to fade, and that our scars and secrets are in the light?

NaPoWriMo Day 15 - Why I Write

Wed, 15 Apr 2015 20:07:21 +0000

Sometimes silence is the song a caged bird sings, the fading echo the flailing of a broken wing leaves, as it creaks beneath the weight of life’s hammer blows.

Sometimes silence is the shrill scream rushing air makes as it leaves a pierced balloon as it runs amok in its death throes before nestling limp like a wet sock and disappearing.

Sometimes pain will break you and the linger of unrequited memory will haunt you, seared as it were in the very fabric of your mind’s skin.

NaPoWriMo Day 14 - Game Theory, A Conversation

Tue, 14 Apr 2015 18:48:12 +0000

A conversation… c. 2009, stumbled upon.

I once had serious game you know.. It seems you’ve still got it man. 3 conundrums? Nah… It’s all seeped off, all that is left now are the dregs. The dregs? Explain! The jaded bottom of the game jar, festering with settled solids. It may be the most potent, no? That would be the strongest, I can imagine. Maybe, but its not available in copious quantities. It has to be miserly dispensed to prevent extreme intoxication. Better for the gamee, no? Maybe, but bad for the gamer. It severely limits the gamer’s options. Options confuse. Pick and choose which gameee u want and then systematically feed her your most potent game. all or nothing. That my dear is a high stake game…works on paper – not necessarily in real life though. Hmmm… In life should you game as many people as you can? Maybe not. Perhaps one should only game the one we think we’ve found, a contradiction in terms maybe? Exactly! So no need to have loads of watery game. I can tell you it doesn’t always work. Hmmmmm. In theory, boy meets girl, he’s interested, asks her out, not hangs in there interminably for the emotional satisfaction whilst offering no commitment. But sometimes you lose, no? Yup - most times I suspect, u lose sometimes. But it’s the ‘ultimate good’ scenario – cos there’s minimal collateral damage. when its all done and dusted – dude takes the risk of asking and losing if required. leaving her wanting more is a risky strategy, in my opinion. yup.. the truly nice guy doesn;t work that way.. if he’s in, he asks, if he’s not he defines the context of their connection and they move on if required…its not even a nice question, I think. That is a Man. yup.. i think so.. that is what a Man and a Woman do…but a boy would play and a girl i think we play along. very true. so….if a gamee wants a Woman and he himself is a Man, then no need to waste time and protect against collateral damage that is my opinion but then again easy does it yeah.. its often easier to just go with the flow.. sometimes I think that women actually want a gamer who does that. who goes with the flow? or who plays with them?. I dont like obscure, undefined, fluid, grey, nonsensical relationships. but then why buy the cow if the milk is free. Hehehehe. which is why i think the staying celibate thing makes sense – never mind what the bible says. it is a waste of MY valuable time. lol… true. and a waste of my valuable LOVING abilties and oh how can u compare women to cows? its called a metaphor – not a simile, however abstruse. I dont like ur analogy. its not a comparison of their structures.. but a comparison of their producing ability. maybe i should have used a tree then. why buy a mango tree when u can get the fruit free. its still offensive…. because the only thing a cow produces is milk., and u are saying the only worth of a woman is what she produces u should want the cow just the cow. But the metaphor is saying the only thing u value from the cow is her milk. u are missing my point.. real dude wants the cow and the milk. raz dude wants the milk only

NaPoWriMo Day 13 - Questions in Thirteen...

Mon, 13 Apr 2015 17:15:02 +0000

Does it pop and fizz, And crackle like a log flame Entrancing the mind?

Does it arrive like Dawn, sweep away the dark night Promise a new start?

Does it intoxicate Like the aroma of sweet wine, Bringing delirious Joy?

Or is it there in the Quietness of steady habits Neither loud nor brash?

Oh that some sage could tell.

NaPoWriMo Day 12 - Bliss in a Bowl

Mon, 13 Apr 2015 08:12:02 +0000

Spice - lemon and herb, sun-dried. Chicken - half, skin crisp. Taste - Bliss, in a bowl. --- For the Day 12 Prompt at NaPoWriMo… Was always going to be about my favourite meal, and table 11. :)

NaPoWriMo Day 11 - Crossroads

Sun, 12 Apr 2015 06:19:19 +0000

[Image Source]

You try to hide your fear behind a veneer of strength, try to put up a facade of calm but beyond the outer strength is the odd tear that slips, unguarded.

You stand bewildered at the fork of the road. Left? Right? Blending into an instructable sameness, certainly uncertain of where your Redemption Days lie.

To the confused, every coincidence is an omen, the whisper of God rustling the leaves one way, or another, but what if like lemmings one must jump?

NaPoWriMo Day 10 - Stalemate

Sat, 11 Apr 2015 08:37:02 +0000

John Sargent, A Dinner Table at Night (1884) Source A t first you ask to talk, but B urning deep within is the burden of words, a C acophony of voices in your head, D riving despair like a stake into wetted E arth, a haze that settles in and just won’t shift. You

F ind a time and place to have the talk, you G o with the flow, tell it like it is, whilst H e squirms beneath the weight of I nnocence lost, guilt like a pall of smoke drifting in. He J okes about not meaning IT, but there is a K nowing that transcends the clarification of intent, that L ooms larger than any image words alone can paint;

NaPoWriMo Day 9 - What Mother Said...

Fri, 10 Apr 2015 04:50:29 +0000

Shed Tears; Let pain like a malevolent fiend- Draw blood. Let go; Let the waves of a melancholic nostalgia break you. Pressure makes you whole again. Blame Fear; Blame Pain, blame sorrow deep within- Still Sing.

An old (anti-valentine) piece from 2010 re-broken for the Day Nine NaPoWriMo prompt… I’d let you decide what shape this calligram represents.. :)

NaPoWriMo Day 8 - For H, Something Stolen

Wed, 08 Apr 2015 16:14:59 +0000

For H - untitled, off prompt…

I said I wouldn’t cry Wouldn’t let the quivering of my lips win, break me.

I said I wouldn’t bend, Wouldn’t sag beneath this weight this unrelenting burden of grief

A harsh wind clasps Me by my throbbing throat Enrobing me in the scales Of its cold, wintery fingers.

Something’s stolen you From me, and all I have left Is hope, that when tomorrow comes The Sun will shine.

NaPoWriMo Day 7 - Money

Tue, 07 Apr 2015 19:31:10 +0000

[ Image Source]

For sixty six and three some quid, Éloi* would have my heart But I’ll be damned if I accede With nary a fulsome fight

--- For the NaPoWriMo Prompt for Day 7, Money; a nod to my current love-hate relationship with work! * Éloi (or Eligius) is the patron saint of metalworkers, and by extension corrosion and materials engineers.:)

NaPoWriMo Day 6 - Morning

Tue, 07 Apr 2015 17:46:30 +0000

Sól’s halo kisses the quiescent sea, its morning shimmer her hello.

--- For the Day Six prompt at NaPoWriMo. Not so much a love poem as a short celebration of morning…

NaPoWriMo Day 5 - Erasing Dickinson

Mon, 06 Apr 2015 05:00:00 +0000

Jacob Wrestling With The Angel, Rembrandt (1659)

[ Source]

A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard Till morning touching mountain And Jacob, waxing strong, The Angel begged permission To Breakfast – to return! Not so, said cunning Jacob! “I will not let thee go Except thou bless me” – Stranger! The which acceded to Light swung the silver fleeces “Peniel” Hills beyond, And the bewildered Gymnast Found he had worsted God!

NaPoWriMo Day 4 - Love

Sun, 05 Apr 2015 08:18:38 +0000

[ Pixshark]

I have your name etched on my skin, its lines and curves and slants edged in rich, deep black. I carry your face in my memory, nestled like a flash of bright white light saves the sameness of a dark spring night.

Your name is a call and echo, one that I murmur like the repeating melody of a descant; the twang of a bow’s string reverberating in the stillness of the valley air, the thud of an arrow steered unerringly as it rips into a doe’s ribcage.

NaPoWriMo Day 3- For Forgiveness

Sat, 04 Apr 2015 06:36:20 +0000

Forgive me if I disappear here, if like a dying Shooting star my flight expires in a flash of light, yielding To the encircling murk, this shroud that slowly stultifies.

Forgive me if my quivering lips neglect to tell my tale Of broken shattered things and distant pains that still remain And this unyielding weight; of things quotidian and unseen.

Why can’t skies have clouds and stars\* and enthralling moon light too? Why must a pilgrim find his way, on slippery pavements too?

NaPoWriMo Day 2 - Dog Star

Thu, 02 Apr 2015 22:29:41 +0000

[Source: Wikipedia]

The Dog Star flickers, Its garb a rainbow plume The view ethereal.

--- For the prompt Constellations

NaPoWriMo Day 1 - Call Me Ishmael

Wed, 01 Apr 2015 22:30:06 +0000

[ Image Source]

Call me Ishmael.Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sailabout a little and see the watery part ofthe world.It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth. Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs—commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.