#NaPoWriMo2026 #Day7 #SkippingRyhme #WeAreOnALittlePlanet

We are on a little planet,

cracking at the seams.

You were chasing profits,

we are chasing dreams.

Storms are getting wilder now,

rivers start to flood

how many grown‑ups will step up

before we’re done for good?

One, two, three…

#NaPoWriMo2025 #Day7 #WhyImNotASonnet

Why I Am Not a Sonnet

I don’t do rhyme. I just don’t jive that way —
Care not a bit for metre, form, or rules.
I whisper wild words to the woodland fae,
And sing sea shanties when the storms starts full.

I seldom feel at ease, contained by structure;
Words spill across my phone in sudden bursts.
I am not some old white dead dude in a lecture,
Claim no dark-haired mistress, with wires cursed.
 
But I am a bitch. I saw it on a wall—
Graffiti scrawled in pink: “Bitches like cake,
And sonnets.” Well, perhaps that says it all.
I guess I’ve got some sweet mistakes to make.
 
So here I stand, no meter, rhyme, or fear—
A cake-loving bitch with a phone, my dear.
 

 

 

#NaPoWriMo2024 #Day7 #Wishyourwerehere

Wish you were here

Dear mum and dad.  Weather here is windy and while all the classic sea-side attractions are gone; no Sunday market, no Rotunda, no pier, no lido (it was all razed to the ground to make way for the folly known as Tinnitus Towers.)  When the wind picks up you can hear the haunting melody.  A mermaids sigh?  A sirens song?  They’ve developed the harbour but the cost of a pint would make dad weep, still there is a ‘Spoons up in the town.

 

#napowrimo2022 #day7 #curiositykillednocat

"Curiosity killed a cat, satisfaction brought it back."

Curiosity killed no cat

The cat was curious,

but she surely had heard

of Schrodinger’s callousness.

No clever kitty would

cast off cautiousness 

climb into a sealed container,

just to sate a scientists 

silly thought experiment.

Satisfied that she knew

better, she batts the box

off with a conscious, intentional

purrfectly positioned paw.

Satisfied not slain she strutted off.

 

#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