Showing posts with label #NaPoWriMo2021. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #NaPoWriMo2021. Show all posts

Friday, 30 April 2021

#undiscoveredcountry #napowrimo2021 #day30

Undiscovered country.

The travellers rarely return. Except rockstars with lyres.
Hermes leads you to the entrance of
Hades realms, he of many hosts.
Pay the boatman and he'll ferry you accross the Styx.
Past the women who loved unreciprocated, cry soundlessly in the gloomy myrtle groves lining the Fields of Mourning.
Kind souls go turn right to Asphodel Meadows, slightly dull but free of toil.
Left, reckless heros revel in Elysium Fields.
Far below, Tartarus place of pain and punishment. 
Rhadamanthus, Minos, Aeacus judge and sentence mortal souls direct you to your final destination.

Thursday, 29 April 2021

#throughtheporthole #napowrimo2021 #day29


Through the porthole

Tippy toes to spy

through a porthole (a girl on

deck is unheard off).

Is it blasphemous to kill

a dumb brute?  Let’s explore.

 

Some one hundred and

Thirty-five chapters. A great

American novel?  You

could scrap cetology, say

“Man versus whale. Whale wins.”

Wednesday, 28 April 2021

#enquiringminds #napowrimo2021 #day28


 Enquiring Minds


Why do men have nipples?
Why do boy guinea pigs have nipples?
Why doesn’t my husband know that boy guinea pigs have nipples?
Why did the vet charge my husband £30 to examine my boy guinea pig and tell my husband that boy guinea pigs have nipples?
Why did my husband confess this whole scenario to me?
Why did I tell ALL MY FRIENDS ON FACEBOOK???
Because it’s hysterical and you could not make this s**t up?


Monday, 26 April 2021

#wotmorekoalas #napowrimo2021 #day26


 Wot More Koalas

 

How doth the little lazy bear

Snooze through each passing hour

Munching on scented leaves

In her eucalyptus bower.

 

How skilfully she strips eat branch

How fuzzy is her hair

Just how shocked would be her stance

If informed she’s not a bear.

 

In devouring she has great skill

At napping an adept too,

Satan would be waiting still

Idle not she lives to chew.

 

In rest, oh let me lay,

That all my years be passed,

That I might repose each day

Some respite at last.

Sunday, 25 April 2021

#thegreathuttitivate #napowrimo2021 #day25

The Great Hut Titivate

Brushes, undercoat
in hand.  We paint up, down, up
down.  Like an 80's
training montage. Slurp coffee,
myclonic, paint splat my boots.

Wednesday, 21 April 2021

#therewasawomanturnedtoowl #NaPoWriMo2021 #day21




There was a woman turned to owl


There was a woman made of flowers.

There was a women two men would coerce.

There was a woman made to love.

There was a woman used to break a curse

There was a woman loved another.

There was a woman tempted to sin.

There was a woman and her lover.

There was a woman who would plot to kill.

There was a woman used her cunning.

There was a woman tried and failed.

There was a woman angered two magicians.

There was a woman turned to owl.



Tuesday, 20 April 2021

#greenwash #NaPoWriMo2021 #day20

 


Green Wash


Nestle’s, bitter chocolate, from one hundred percent sustainable beans,

applauding ethics, a melting moment - hearts and tasty cocoa solids,

Less vocal about child labour, dangerous tools, toxic exposure.


Sunday, 18 April 2021

#collectingwordsandcreatingawordpool #NaPoWriMo2021 #day18


 

Collecting words and creating a wordpool
 
A line from a Levellers song.
“An old man collecting 50 beautiful words”
I had always envisioned some old timer
rock pooling with a net,
but fishing for words rather than crabs.
 
I imagined him calling over,
small children to marvel at
a particularly impressive specimen
“coddiwomple” or “nelipot”.
Their mother hovers a little anxiously.
 
It is a sad reflection,
that minds are suspicious,
but the words in the media
create distrust and division.
Tuning in instinct tells her all is well.
 
The children call her over.
They have caught a monster –
and they want her to see
a remarkable “brabble”
they contend about who caught it.
 
Pleading they ask if they can
take it home and keep it in a
wordpool in the back garden.
Mum acquiesces but they must
agree to feed and clean it out.

Smiling, she thanks the old
Man for his time and patience,
And he grins back knowing that
he has guided another generation
to a devotion to language.


Wednesday, 14 April 2021

#whatisinaname #NaPoWriMo2021 #day 14



What is in a name

 

Luddington a name I claimed

after exchanging rings.

Anglo-Saxon roots

Luda’s farmstead

Dodda’s well

Feels old, aged, well rooted.


During the English civil war,

An apple barn in the village

of Luddington was pilfered

its ‘carefully stored; apples, looted

by light-fingered thieving troops.


I always thought, there might be

some connection with Luddites.

Though checking the etymology

It seems that Ned Ludd

was entirely made up

and I’m not sure I approve

of smashing the spinning Jenny.


Tuesday, 13 April 2021

#truthbrokeout #NaPoWriMo2021 #Day13



Unexpected news…truth broke out.


Every day I read

bad news, my heart it

broke, so I choose to

stop reading print, no red top

rags or broadsheet columns scanned.

 

Every day I read

 fake news, my heart it

broke, so I choose to

stop mindless scrolling, on

social media, ignoring trolls.

 

Unexpectedly truth

broke out, usually

lies have run halfway.

around the globe before the

truth has got her pants on. 

 

Today’s prompt comes from the Instagram account of Sundress Publications, which posts a writing prompt every day, all year long. This one is short and sweet: write a poem in the form of a news article you wish would come out tomorrow.

Added a little nod to Terry Pratchett
 

Sunday, 11 April 2021

#moonmail #NaPoWriMo2021 #day11


Moon Mail

Dark Lady Moon

This evening as this cycle ends. I look to the sky, pausing to trace where you would be.  Taking a breath assimilating all that past, all that I experienced.  I rest in your darkness.  The sacred silence soothes me.  I know that in this standing still I dismiss the urge for constant rushing and business (a trauma response if ever we saw one).  

No to do list, phone is silenced, no slaw jawed, vacant eyed consumption of social media.  Just you, me, my journal and the darkness.  

It's not a lack of light but a different way of illumination.  I go in, I go deep. breathing space for shadows and exploration.

This month I offer up the these memories for your safe keeping; losing my seeds, searching high and low and then going to bed to sulk and replacing them the next day.  Scripting getting the keys for the beach hut and the next day getting the call from Hazel that we could collect the keys and squeeing loudly in B&N's and completing 365 #isolationhaikus and leaning into #reintergrationhaikus.

I celebrate making good progress with work, the podcast and with my Tuesday Tune In mediations.  

Still challenged about letting fully go from a relationship where I feel the other person behaved poorly and even though they are not present in my life there are reminders and I release them from my energy, I know I've done this again and again and again.  I really think I am reader now, the coal that I was holding hasn't really cooled significantly so maybe I will just let it down?  I know why I am frustrated and I know it really is entirely outside of my control, so I will surrender that into the cauldron of the Crone Mother for transformation.

Thank you for your patience and understanding, give me grace and compassion, to let go and move forwards.

In gratitude,
Jen 

Dearest, darling Jen

I long to read your letters, to see you grow and learn.  You do pause more frequently than you did and you know you can cosy up with me in the darkness and rest any time.  I have the balm for most ailments and it's usually rest and quiet you are progressing beautifully.

Yes, I am glad you are taking time out.  In this stillness it is easier to commune isn't it?  Glad to see you letting the sham world and it's illusions of separateness fall.  You will always be safe to explore your shadows dear heart.  I am here to hear you, your joys and sorrows and there will never be judgement, just complete acceptance of you and where you are right now.

I can't give you any insights into the seeds, maybe its fae folks playing tricks or maybe a lesson that things come and go in our lives and when something is lost maybe it wasn't meant for you.  It's okay to be disappointed when things don't go your way, but don't spend too much time hiding under a duvet, what inspired action can you take next?

Well done with your meditations and your haikus, glad your releasing that isolation, I think everyone is ready to start moving forward and you can take it steady, go at the pace that is right for you.  Did you like the yoniverse delivering in divinely perfect timing.  We were all rather impressed with that I think we heard you squeeing across the Milky Way. 

It's okay that your challenged and some hurdles do take longer to overcome than others, but I think you have learned all you can from this and you absolutely can put it down you have carried it longer than you needed, but only you know when your limbs are aching at the time is right to set it down, the Crone Mothers are happy to accept your offering to the cauldron.

Grace and compassion are your birth right, fill up your cup.  

See you next month moon child.

Saturday, 10 April 2021

#leadmetoheraltar #NaPoWriMo2021 #day10

 


Lead me to her altar

 

I have an assortment of deities,

a wide-hipped and pendulous breasted goddess,

made of clay, several slim ankled fiery maidens.

 

My Ladies like to laugh, heartily and

care not for censure or appropriateness, they assume your veneration.

Approve of the panty bunting, draped across the altar.

 

Accepting smoke bundles, deathless offerings of plastic flowers,

but chide me remove those papers thin, dried out husks,

previously incarnated as daffodils.

 

Communing each day, sacrificing

self-doubt, delighting as each crack lets more divine light in.

Resonating bells heard through ear like abalone shells.

 

Not proposing forgiveness, but release,

Directing me to wholeness and embodiment,

laying my sins and trespasses against myself at her feet.

 

Through ceremony I am nourished,

leaving a bite of cake and mouthful of juice

so, none of the faithful will know hunger or thirst.

 

Oracles and journals guide me into deeper understanding.

SHE bids me use my auricles, if I have a mind to hear,

delighting as each old limiting skin is shed, and I become transformed.

Prompt: “Junk Drawer Song,” and comes to us from the poet Hoa Nguyen.

First, find a song with which you are familiar – it could be a favorite song of yours, or one that just evokes memories of your past. Listen to the song and take notes as you do, without overthinking it or worrying about your notes making sense.

Next, rifle through the objects in your junk drawer – or wherever you keep loose odds and ends that don’t have a place otherwise. (Mine contains picture-hanging wire, stamps, rubber bands, and two unfinished wooden spoons I started whittling four years ago after taking a spoon-making class). On a separate page from your song-notes page, write about the objects in the drawer, for as long as you care to.

Now, bring your two pages of notes together and write a poem that weaves together your ideas and observations from both pages.

So my song was Take me to church by Hozier and it wasn't my junk drawer but what I had around and under my altar.

Friday, 9 April 2021

#totoothlist #NaPoWriMo2021 #day9


To Tooth List 🦷

* Buy new pliers
* Take wings to dry cleaners
* Steal human baby leave changeling
* Tell Brian's mum he's not flossing
* Pay in change at bank
* Polish wand
* Tell Lizzie to get her mind out of the gutter.
* Read Witch Best Buy Guide on step ladders
* Set up dating profile on PlentyMoreFae.com
* See HR to explain the unfortunate incident with Gummy Claire after she fell asleep with her head UNDER the pillow.


Wednesday, 7 April 2021

#diabolicalfib #NaPoWriMo2021 #day7

Diabolical Fib

Hell
is
often
described as
other people, I 
have to ask - are your toes singeing?

I opted for the "fib" NaPoWriMo describes it's origins 

"...Our second syllabic form is much more forthright about its recent origins. Like the shadorma, the Fib is a six-line form. But now, the syllable count is based off the Fibonacci sequence of 1/1/2/3/5/8. You can link multiple Fibs together into a multi-stanza poem, or even start going backwards after your first six lines, with syllable counts of 8/5/3/2/1/1. Perhaps you remember the Fibonacci sequence from math or science class – or even from nature walks. Lots of things in the natural world hew to the sequence – like pinecones and flower petals. And now your poems can, too.

Happy writing!"

Image credit: Dean Moriarty Bhuddist Hell

Tuesday, 6 April 2021

#Virtuosity #NaPoWriMo2021 #Day6


Virtuosity

I admire your

signature style, the way you

manoeuvre, deftly

expressing the authentic,

flawless masterpiece that’s you.

 

Tiny lil tanka today as it has been busy, busy, busy.

My inspiration was a line from don Miguel Ruiz “The Four Agreements”. “Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.”

Sunday, 4 April 2021

#Liminal #NaPoWriMo2021#day4

Liminal


Lights at the end of

the tunnel, or a monster,

eyes as big as mill wheels.

Maybe a kitten in a box.

Liminal spaces hold possibilities.  


Fear exists at threshold.

Schrodinger's cat both dead and

alive until you

pull off the lid an peek,

at the horror/joy held inside.

Saturday, 3 April 2021

#smokemirrorsandrainbows #NaPoWriMo2021 #day3

Smoke, mirrors and rainbows

You could say
we live in politically acrid times.
Smoke and mirrors.

Harsh on the lungs,
lips taste bitter gall
my eyes sting.

Some are wearing
masks out of respect
for the collective.

Some fear 
trespasses on civil liberties. 
All choking on something.

Rolling up sleeves
or vocally denying efficacy
Rock and hard place.

Faded window rainbows,
we scrawled for the NHS.
Seems a lifetime ago.

Prismatic refracted light
symbolically bridgind worlds
longing for polarisation to cease.