Category: napowrimo
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16 Nov: NovPAD Day 16
I. (PA: Panel)Just Another Stroke It was the summer I turned 5,maybe I was 4, but it was summer.Dad always painted the fencein August, and as I watched the white paint being strokedup and down in long, slow anddeliberate sweeps of the brush, I told him that I’d never marrybecause I loved him. And he…
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15 Nov: NovPAD Day 15
I.Just Another (Thoughtless) Memory I remember the skywas a loud shock of blue,the plastic table and chairs, an indifferent white. We aren’t talking.I can’t remember why. But you sit there,and watch me cryas you throw yourselfinto one last battle. I remember sitting undertroubled sky, the wind blowing blowing us out. II. (a thoughtful haiku) Rain…
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14 Nov: NovPAD Day 14
A Gardener’s Story I. It’s a duel with nature,hack back nettlesand choke weed tendrils,slash away brambles that in August I’ll praise for blackberries, but for now, those thornsare dragon’s teeth.They biteand won’t be tamed. II. My mother grew hydrangeasthe colour of alpacas, pulledweeds with her bare hands. She took a scythe to the bramblesbut picked…
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13 Nov: NovPAD Day 13
An Ekphrastic Poem: Melancholy (illustrated by an AI-Midjourney interpretation of Melancholy by Edvard Munch) There’s a palenessin his religion, it’s left him somewhere betweengenius and foolishness,between a polluted tideand a ruptured hollowness. On Sunday, after listeningto chanting priests, he fills out a Donor Card.He wants to donate a rib,make a tree branch out of it,or…
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13 Nov: NovPAD Day 12 (revised)
Just Call It Music I know a song, and it’s full of spring light fullness,of winter wind fury, and seas overfilled with salt. And so much love in it,as if living is love, as if life without love is not living. It’s a complicated symphony,as if music is life’s accelerant. And I confess to lovinga…
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12 Nov: NovPAD Day 12
Future Tenses This languagehas no future tense.It’s all in the past.Or the here and now. Sun-warm Sussex strawberriesand cold double cream.Add November – and it’sstrawberries in the future. And yet, those crow-black cloudsstill come,will come,are coming,vacuuming up the air, those crow-black silhouettesstill walk,will walk,are walkingtoward a rectangle box. PA: Future and Q: A few more words from yesterday.…
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11 Nov: NovPAD Day 11
Our Old House on Quarry Road … (or Just Another House) That old odd house with its settling shadows,its scrapes and snaps and window rattles, our odd house that resisted our words and weight.A house begging for a lifeline, whose misplaced memories hanging in the attic with winter’s long black sorrow and wind humming funeral…
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10 Nov: NovPAD Day 10
I. Miz Quickly: Life is (indirect definition) Ideally It was her idea of ideal with a scarlet bougainvillaeaclimbing up and over, hanging here and there like an unhemmed skirt,and it had to wrap all the way around, and be wide enough for three over-sized wicker chairs and footrests, two for those talking, and one forthe person listening,…
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10 Nov: NovPAD Day 9-1/2 (draft)
Day 9 PA: Blank Of the blank The Last Barbecue of the Summer (or just another picnic) Grandpa’s set up the wireless speakers.The Rolling Stones and Cream, the beatsends flatware into vibrating fits. It’s the family picnic. Last of the summer. Burgers burnt. Sausages spit. Two brother, rely on sticks forbalance – they compare arrhythmia,and…
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9 Nov: NovPAD Day 9
Doors in a Dream (or a Vague Certainty) It’s the closed door into my dreams.Small and brown, the colourof chestnut eyes. Or an old skin drum.Wisdom opens its door. Its opposite side is a mirror.No doorknob.Only a long reflection, lackingwisdom. I open the door. Time is brave on the other side,perforated. Like a screen door.Dogs…
It's Still Life 