Tag: napowrimo
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12 April: NaPoWriMo (revised)
On the Ridge Overlooking Burling Gap To be haunted by little things.A pale shade of sun as itpricks forgotten grass,cowslip,yellow blossoming weeds.The stir of sheep bellsand lambs hushed againstan old stone wall.Violet dusk.Drifting cloud.Bald hills,and shadows from fog.Sometimes I could weep, but I don’t. But I don’t weep, I could sometimes.Shadows from fog.Bald hills.Drifting cloud.Violet…
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10 April: NaPoWriMo – Blitz Poem
Inside a Whisper (a 50-line Blitz Poem) Every journey ends inside my eyesEvery story from me is alive insideInside, I’ve named every treeInside is the depth of one word sentencesSentences long as weeksSentences too full of wordsWords dark as sufferingWords for a tulip without its petalsPetals white as saltPetals red as a pepperPepper will float…
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9 April: NaPoWriMo
The Breath of Ghosts She much prefers tulips. They aren’t like roses or peonies that shrivel to dust and become the breath of ghosts. Tulips don’t wilt. They just drop their petals. They are like corseted Victorian women. They faint. And she knows that the stars she sees are already dead – but that doesn’t…
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4 April: NaPoWriMo “titles”
A Low Bench View How the massive and age-old chalk Breaks the sea’s penetrating rake Of this sceptre and emerald isle. How the light from winter’s lazy sun Pricks and twirls the water’s skin Where a churchyard edges our abyss. How its colours are spinning vertigo Of yellow, blue, white sand and pebbles. How time…
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3 April: NaPoWriMo “Doors”
The Sunny Side of the Door I’ve never dreamt of eating dusty bread, nor have I watched a field of red wheat grow. I’ve never wanted to be a man, even though I think women are beautiful. I’ve watched February snow as it melts into the black sound of rushing water. I’ve heard blackbirds sing,…
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15 April: Raspberry Music – The Woman on Tuesdays
The Woman Who Sings on Tuesdays One eye is a puddle,the other is the colour of smoke,her voice, raspy, soprano if she’s sober,and wrinkly like a quiver aftershe’s drowned her years in gin. Her name is the same asmy friend’s, who says we’re sistersby different mothers, and if my fatherwere alive, he’d certainly dispute that.So…
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10 April: A Sea Shanty
A Sea Shanty (tune: What’ll We Do with a Drunken Sailor) To sea to see, today we’re goingMisty spray off the bow is blowingHeadlong in a wind, we’re knowingFish are few today Way hey and up we’re ridingSay hey and down we’re divingMake way our nets are flyingFish are few today. Written for NaPoWriMo Day…
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8 April: NaPoWriMo Day 8 Twenty Little Pieces
Just Put the Blame on Pigeons And I tell her life is that pigeonthat just fell out of the tree, and she says that it’s sunshine through a daffodil, and she’s eating a hot cross bun,the butter melting down her wrist, and she licks it before it disappearsinto the cuff of her blouse, andMmmms. She…
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7 April: NaPoWriMo and RDP Day 7
On the Kitchen Windowsill There’s a finger-length silver shoe with a notch, it’s an ashtray but never used as such, and next to it a small terra cotta chicken with a wooden spoon protruding from the back of its neck, for salsa I’m told, bought it in Cartagena on a hot day after a miserable…
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6 April: NaPoWriMo and RDP Day 6
A Spoonful of Urban White In the echoes of distance, all there, gathered in this milky night, were destined to sombre lament. Their footsteps, a river of invadingsecrets flooding these gritty streets,and dazzled by night’s watery lights. And the milky moon, sharp as a knifebroke through clouds, and thenfaded back into echoes again. A poem…
It's Still Life 