Day 10 and still behind…

So day ten asked us to think about simultaneity (who even knew that was a word?) As usual I am running late but it’s a finished poem so I’m running with it! The weekend is coming…

I cried, when you ‘bared your soul’ –
Pushing away the two-legged stool.
The only thing left propping me up.

You kicked me as I fell,
Any remaining self-respect
Violated, left scattered
And lost among the wreckage.

Meanwhile you slept soundly.
Undisturbed and at peace,
Your secrets now shared.

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Day nine and a pitiful attempt to get back on the wagon!

The usual thing – life took over and The Muse went AWOL!! In my defence I have been working on a specific (top secret) poem and that has had my attention for the last week.

Anyway, enough excuses – I will not embarrass myself by pretending I will try and catch up. That way lies madness and failure…

Let’s see if I can keep up till the end of the month. With this in mind, and being out tonight, cop out time it is!

Behold the big/small limerick:

The piccolo, I have just found,

Can make an extraordinary sound.

Though a harp may sound sweeter,

You can buy by the metre,

So it’s harder to carry around.

NaPoWriMo Day Three (catchup)

Started with band names, felt a bit pointless, so turned to crazy food combinations as I have dozens of amazing (veggie) cookery books – not that any of these necessarily appear in them.

Hopefully I will catch up with everyone else today and write something a bit more meaningful!

Me and my tea

Smoked mooli, with mushroom and spinach farci,
Kohlrabi en croute, with an orange coulis.
Aubergine, poached in sweet persimmon wine,
Served with a fragrant infusion of pine.
Quince, macerated with apple and cheese,
Garnished with chestnuts and cooked en chemise.
Air dried asparagus, zest of fresh lime,
all flambéed in garlic and poached in white wine.
Potato noisettes in a sauce hollandaise,
beetroot and parsnip, served seven ways.
Which of these beauties do I fancy most?
Oh, I just can’t be bothered – I’ll have beans on toast.

Day Two – voices

Day two and I’m already playing catch-up. Found this one quite hard to get going with, for some reason. I’m afraid I did swerve the challenge of using two different voices, as well, but decided to just get a poem finished and draw a line, so I don’t fall behind at such an early stage!

I hate this town.
All the shops are closing down,
Leaving us to live
On charity and coffee.

It’s lost in time.
Layers of neglect and grime
Peel back like dead skin
To expose the rot beneath.

Time for me to go.
Never to return, I know.
Shrugging off the past –
Secret guilt that held me fast.

Day One – off we go!

I had to start somewhere, so here we go. Sorry it’s a bit trite, but I needed to break myself in gently!

Only got to day nineteen last year because my mother became ill and poetry went out of the window… A new year and a new start, so I’m going to be kind to myself. Good luck everyone!

The challenge for day one is to write about a guilty pleasure or secret shame. Let’s hope for better as we go along.

 

A guilty pleasure, or secret shame?

Ok, day one, I’ll play the game…

Wine’s up there, and also cheese,

But nothing secretive, with these.

Should I be honest, bare my soul?

Put on display, in view of all,

My innermost desires – unfurled

for the judgement of a waiting world?

Hmmm…

The trolls can all stand down again.

I’ll keep them hidden in my brain,

Where anger, bitterness and shame,

And guilty thoughts, should all remain.

Day nineteen – and then there was light!

A creation myth inspired by the film ‘Allegro non Troppo’ – evolution from a coke can.  I have finally caught up again, yay!

 

And so it began.
A dim light
under the door
illuminating
a forgotten can –
drip, drip,
slowly dripping
damp into plush.

A stray beam
of slatted sunlight
crawled over the carpet,
conjuring a faint
wisp of steam.

Drips slowed,
steam rose,
time passed,
the world turned.

Wars raged,
people died,
wood rotted,
walls fell,
then all lay silent.

One night, moonlight,
cut wordlessly through
the mossed carpet.
Suddenly,
where no one
was left to see,
a faint hiss,
a vague undulation
of the soupy mass
heralded new life,
the miracle of creation.

Day seventeen (better late than never?)

I apologise in advance for the quality of the next two/three posts!

Did my usual thing and allowed the prompt to baffle me and put me behind once again!

The Nocturne prompt left me completely cold. To be honest I don’t feel like I have a tender bone in my body at the moment. Probably a tad harsh but I’m just really not feeling it all.

They’ve just been talking about limericks on Eggheads, so I thought that was worth a shot as a last resort.

There was a young woman called Jean
Who had an obsession with beans.
She grew so big and strong,
she resembled King Kong,
now she’s head of the Royal Marines.

Day eighteen – neologisms (is that made up too?)

The challenge for the day was to write a poem including neologisms, or made-up words. Had no idea where to start again, but as it’s all over the news at the moment and Brexit is a made-up word in itself, I thought I would play with that idea, also using the fact that Germans are great at stringing words together to make longer ones. (Any issues, please blame Google translation!)

We find ourselves
in a Brexitarious position,
a precarious condition
where our departunion
may lead to huge chaofusion,
both in our singulosmugness
and amongst Euromainers.
Time may bring some
clarification of our isolative situation –
the UK may be OK
and wake to a bright regeneranation
or, conversely,
as the Germans might say
“Du-hast-dein-Bett-so-lügen-lassen.”

Day sixteen – letter

Dear NaPoWriMo

I’m halfway through the month, at last, but here’s a heartfelt plea: throw in some open options, please! I’m sure it’s not just me, but I’m such a lazy writer and I struggle to keep track, so when you throw a curveball in, it really knocks me back.

Forms are quite a challenge, longer lines as well, and I confess – sea shanties are my idea of hell! Alliteration bugs me, likewise repetition, not to mention villanelles and similar propositions.

So why do you take part each year? I almost hear you ask. Because I need to push myself and I relish every task, even if I find them difficult, at least they make me write and I get such satisfaction when I can post each night.

I’m sorry for my mithering and I’ll stick with it, whatever. I’m sure I’ll still be struggling, but we’ll see it through together. To write a poem every day is a wonderful aspiration, and the prompts are not always my cup of tea but they spark my imagination.

Yours gratefully,
Carole

Day fifteen – still only halfway there

Day fifteen and halfway through, so the task today is to write about the idea of half. Fair enough.
Gone round the houses a few times so decided to keep it short and sweet again, ;est I lose momentum.

50/50

A half sounds insufficient,
lacking,
less than the whole.

A half sounds incomplete,
wanting,
so far from your goal.

Whereas,

half of the winnings
is sharing,
twice the pleasure.

Half of a couple
is caring,
stronger together.