Author Topic: National Poetry Month.  (Read 1603 times)

Mark Hoffmann

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #60 on: April 14, 2019, 05:15:11 PM »
indar

Writing a Pantoum is definitely showing off.  :D

Mark
If you like Bob the Alien he gets a good run out in my NaPoWriMo 2018. Download pdf here: http://www.scribblers-ring.co.uk/downloads/napowrimo_mhh_201804.pdf

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #61 on: April 14, 2019, 05:20:45 PM »
I'm going to try for a sestina before this is over :)

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #62 on: April 14, 2019, 05:22:10 PM »
April 14

No Title

Some poems float down gently from the ether,
good-natured, docile.
Others fight tooth and nail; subject and predicate,
resisting all attempts to be wrestled to the ground.

Words fly, potential escapes this way and that
until at last
writer and written lie exhausted.


(that's all I got today folks)

Mark Hoffmann

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #63 on: April 14, 2019, 10:05:09 PM »
I'm going to try for a sestina before this is over :)

Are you insane?!?!?!
If you like Bob the Alien he gets a good run out in my NaPoWriMo 2018. Download pdf here: http://www.scribblers-ring.co.uk/downloads/napowrimo_mhh_201804.pdf

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #64 on: April 15, 2019, 08:53:09 AM »
NAPO 15 - 2019

Holding a live fish

How you hold a fish varies.

If it's destined for the pot
then a dry hand gives the best grip.
Damaging the scales doesn't matter
if you're about to kill it anyway.

But if it's going back in be gentle.
A wet hand, correctly positioned,
grips nearly as well
and does far less damage.

Hold it across the back,
just behind the head.
Don't squash the belly,
they're surprisingly fragile in there.

Accidentally voiding a hundred potential lives
from a roe-heavy female
won't harm you.
But it leaves a bad feeling

If unhooking takes too long
don't just toss it back in.
Hold it in the water for a while,
gently rocking it forth and back, 
stimulating water flow over its gills.

Once it starts to wriggle,
to recover from its trip 'airside'
it will soon dart away.

Those few seconds make the difference,
between floating away belly up
or living out its natural span.

Remember, you only borrowed it.

Gyppo

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #65 on: April 15, 2019, 03:52:06 PM »
Holding a live fish

Another outstanding write

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #66 on: April 15, 2019, 03:54:18 PM »
Mark asked:

Are you insane?!?!?!

I reply:

Do you believe that old saying that if you worry sometimes you might be insane then you're not?

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #67 on: April 15, 2019, 06:57:15 PM »
Mum and Dad believed that.

"Just because you're different it doesn't mean you're mad.  Although sometimes perhaps it's best not to flaunt your difference, it can make others feel insecure."

"But Dad, I don't mind other people people being different."

"That's because your difference is different from theirs."

It took me a long time to figure that bit out.
« Last Edit: April 18, 2019, 07:00:39 PM by Gyppo »

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #68 on: April 16, 2019, 01:07:31 AM »
   Tomorrow I have a funeral to attend.  The wife of one of my cousins.  She was a lovely lady.  Sometimes a little bit too 'larger than life' for my generally reserved nature, but she realised this and 'dialled it down a bit' for me.  The perfect wife for my equally larger than life cousin.

   It seems impossible that it is thirty eight years since I made and decorated their wedding cake for them.  She was only a couple of years older than me and, inevitably, it made me think.

=====

NAPO 16 - 2019


"Today is not that day."

There have been shit moments in my life
which have hardened certain principles,
have set trains of thought running only one way.

But like a hobo I've learned a trick,
how to swap trains,
to jump from a moving vehicle
and roll without breaking.

Sometimes a little bruised and bloody,
but time heals, after a fashion,
and scars hide any residual pain.

But it doesn't always work,
and some destinations keep reappearing
on the timetable of my life.

Some sidings are so seductive
they trap me for a while,
in peaceful dreams of 'what if',
until the wanderlust returns.

Which is when I grab my bag
and swing aboard the last train out.
One day it will be my last ride,
"But today is not that day."

Gyppo

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #69 on: April 16, 2019, 05:33:43 PM »
April 16

Benny Goodman Plays Goodbye for Your Listening Pleasure

We are told hearing is the last thing to go
so we tuned into the Big Band/Swing offerings
on dish TV and turned the volume up.

Glen Miller is playing.
I want to cry for a past in which I did not exist,
memories not mine, yet as familiar as if it was I
who snuck away on the train to the city
to dance to the music of Cab Calloway live
at the Marigold Ballroom.

Duke Ellington, her favorite,
I turn the volume up further,
watch her face for some reaction:
her face once beautiful, now fixed, open-mouthed,
gasping. Her body patched with deep plum evidence
of necrosis of her flesh. Death is not beautiful.

Les Brown, Sentimental Journey. I shout into her good ear,
Soon, I say, soon you will see Lucille again.
Lucille, the oldest sister, born with the navel cord
wrapped around her throat three times,
pulled tight too long in the birth canal while I
hovered near the ceiling imploring frantic doctors
hurry, hurry, save her, I too bear the family shame:
she was institutionalized, age nine for cerebral palsy.

My Blue Heaven, Artie Shaw
I tell my mother god loves you, do not be afraid,
though I am not certain what I say is true.
Perhaps the cosmos listens, perhaps there will be
a joyous reunion, perhaps I can believe that just enough

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #70 on: April 17, 2019, 07:31:50 PM »
NAPO 17  - 2019

50 Years and Counting

Over fifty years ago we said goodbye.
In your street clothes instead of your apron,
stood by the head baker's car
waiting for your lift home,
you looked far more grown up,
not the girl who teased me at work,
and made the world a better place
just by your presence.

We exchanged a few platitudes
and said we'd meet again, some day,
if the gods willed it.

Too young to realise that some day,
sometimes, means never,
and the gods, presumably,
had other fish to fry.

Yet you've always been there,
easy to recall,
gentle on my mind.
Red-brown hair glinting in the sun,
that little smile on your lips
and warmth in your grey eyes.

I've loved and lost since then,
more than once,
become a man, a lover,
a father, and now a grandfather.

I have no real idea how you've lived,
although I heard stories.
But nothing for a long time now.
For all I know you may be dead.
You'll certainly be grey haired by now.

But your image persists
and my mind adds children,
even grandchildren,
to that young girl who stole my heart
and still, no matter what,
holds a place I don't wish to deny.

Gyppo

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #71 on: April 18, 2019, 07:00:02 PM »
NAPO 18 - 2019

Smile as you say goodbye

It was a glorious day for a funeral,
blue sky with a kestrel hovering,
breeze enough to gently mute the heat.
And as we waited,
in the usual family or friend groups,
never quite mixing despite common purpose,
someone mentioned the idyllic weather.

And we all smiled as someone else said,
as if it should be obvious,
"That's down to Sally,
fussing around as usual,
making sure all her guests are happy."

Gyppo


indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #72 on: April 18, 2019, 09:08:00 PM »
April 18

Air All Around

Breathe, breathe,
drink some orange juice,
open curtains,
morning light,
open windows
breathe the scent
of sweet allysum
still blooming bravely
in the garden,
green growing things
go about their business,
remember lessons--
junior high biology,
photosynthesis--
inhale, exhale,
breathe, breathe,
on my knees,
Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison,
forgive, forgive,

Gyppo

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #73 on: April 19, 2019, 05:02:54 PM »
NAPO 19 - 2019

No marker

I will have no graveyard plot,
and no marker as such,
save in the mind of those who knew me.
My ashes will be scattered
from a moving vehicle,
in a fairly specific area
on Salisbury Plain.
Roadside flowers will bloom there
in their natural season.
In Autumn the leaves will fall,
and in winter the wind
will sing its eternal requiem.

Someone told me this won't happen,
that there are rules,
that this act won't be allowed.
I just smiled quietly,
they don't know my family.

And if in time the road crumbles
and no-one visits,
or even passes by,
that will be fine too.

Gyppo
« Last Edit: April 20, 2019, 08:45:40 PM by Gyppo »

indar9

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Re: National Poetry Month.
« Reply #74 on: April 20, 2019, 07:54:59 PM »
April 20

One Word: Plastic

I vow to reduce my use of plastic
Dustin Hoffman's day is done.
Tupperware parties are no more,
no one takes their lunch to work.

Dustin Hoffman's day is done,
grads ignore elder advice,
no one takes their lunch to work,
youngsters eat in coffee shops.

Grads ignore elder advice,
this generation consults the cloud,
youngsters eat in coffee shops
and stream information on their phones.

This generation consults the cloud,
they are techno-savvy and up to date
they stream information on their phones,
we might learn a few things from them,

they are techno-savvy and up to date
and warn about islands of floating debris
we might learn a few things from them:
I vow to reduce my use of plastic.


My participation in this challenge is getting spotty as I need to spend more time caring for my mother. Mark, there will be no sestina this year but here's another pantoum. I find writing to this kind of form is actually therapeutic.


Gyppo, carry on your writing continues to amaze me day after day ;)