Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 19/30 Someday

cold and alone
will she ever come home?
echoes of yesterday
fill the faded floral wallpaper
when will she breathe again?
she is cold and alone
dreaming of life
touching the music
that consumed her
stories comes to end
she’s waiting for
another chapter
she is cold and alone.
reality isn’t easy
familiarity and comfort
every day is a challenge
she says smile
pulling the weights
from the corner of her mouth
opening her eyes
hoping for ‘that day’
he did say ‘some day’
she is cold and alone
in her floral home.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 18/30 Found Twitter

Hitting the road

Hours of highway

I blame Wednesday

the problem is not the problem

it’s the attitude towards the problem

happiness is in Nippy’s Iced Chocolate

Seriously with the adverts…!

Watching Doctor Who

deciding on breakfast

My get up and go, got up and left

sunburnt in a thunderstorm

there’s no place like home.

Lunch in Chinatown

smooth landing despite the weather

getting career advice from clients.

Tram conversations

Australian’s are the biggest pirates

yesterday we wore t-shirts, today we wear hoodies.

“Don’t think of it as death,

think of it as leaving early to avoid the rush”

A poem inspired and constructed from the tweets I posted last month @AlwaysChum 

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 17/30 Death of a poem

Placed neatly in the wooden box
the lid is grazed by graceful fingers
over the long years you took some knocks
and now your voice echoes, lingers.

Creating a dance of letters
the words fell from my pointy pen
nights trying to make you better
but the sun was setting, my friend.

We should have sung at our first chance
thrown those words out into the sky
but shaping had us in a trance
and now your words will never fly.

You are the reason I am me
Therapy from reality
helped me conquer the how to be
helped unlock the insanity.

Your voice may have faded away
Your words dissolved into nothing
and this empty blank page will stay
but your memory will keep on living.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 16/30 Terzanelle

I feel the immensity breathing
splashing through the expectations
finding my salvation in you

in our connected emotions.
Somewhere in this fog is doubting,
splashing through the expectations

loneliness screaming from your eyes.
Invisible tears calling out
somewhere in this fog is doubting

this reef is empty without you.
I will search for eternity
invisible tears calling out

to my destiny, my lobster.
Am swimming through the deep ocean
I will search for eternity

for you, as you are my someone.
I feel the immensity breathing
Am swimming through the deep ocean
I feel the immensity breathing.

Day 16 Challenge:

Today, I challenge you to write in the form known as the terzanelle. A hybrid of the villanelle and terza rima, terzanelles consist of five three-line stanzas and a concluding quatrain. Lines and rhymes are chained throughout the poem, so that the middle line of each triplet is repeated as the last line of the following triplet (or, for the last triplet, in the concluding quatrain). The pattern goes like this:
fAFA or fFAA.

You can use any meter or line length, though you may want to try to have all of your lines in the same meter! (And you can always fall back on that old favorite, iambic pentameter).

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 15/30 The drunk poet

Like a door,

battered faded wood

you’re distraught with each other

Oh, drink!

Kindly withdraw!

A sign swings in me

Ma, always said;

“I defy your sighin’ and blubberin’

Can ya go in a sec

Since ya gone so far.

Why? Your coffin heavy”

Each friendly lions paws will close.

Table your pen, many

kids in the school hall

back down,

only you

have sworn faith.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 14/30 ‘Happy’

Oceanic eyes

pushes up the hills

that sprout from life’s road

determined to be

the better version of me.

Fake smiles and gestures

can’t hide

the strangling fear and insecurity

all I want is to be me.

This road can feel lonely

my words are my friends

dreaming of what I could be

trying to find this mysterious place


Inspired by the show Nashville and the character Juliette. I have a new addiction.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo 13/30 Memories

Memories are like openings
the rain slamming against them
as you stare absently at the visions
following the trails
you turn from them
casting shadows over your mind
trying to back away from them
after more than twenty years
of extensive flashbacks
to nothing, no where and no one.

A replacement poem

Pick a common noun for a physical thing, for example, “desk” or “hat” or “bear,” and then pick one for something intangible, like “love” or “memories” or “aspiration.” Then Google your tangible noun, and find some sentences using it. Now, replace that tangible noun in those sentences with your intangible noun, and use those sentences to create (or inspire) a poem.

I used ‘window’ and ‘memory’.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo – 12/30

In the hours before the dawn
above the rented unkept lawn
rests a weary tired fox
in her creamy coloured box.

Beyond her door is a show
where others presume to know
who she is and where she’s been
but there are sides they have not seen.

She escapes the game through her books
happy in her little nook
surrounded by pictures of friends,
tattered postcards, and mail to send.

Flowery perfume fills the space
souvenirs of another place
cork boards filled with rainbow post-its
clothes bursting from the closet.

She crawls up here once a day
finds her doona and there she lays
time out from the world outside
the only place she can hide.

Posted in #napowrimo2015

NaPoWriMo – 11/30 – A2Z Poem

Asking me again, like a
broken record
circling conversations, like
Death lingering
entombed in our talks.
Free me from this expectation
Grant me the salvation
Halt your narration
I am sighing at your
jousting affirmations.
Kindred spirits
living and loving
meandering down the rivers
neverending, but
open the possibilities.
question them
refuse to answer them
soundtracks are your making
they are only them.
Unicorns and rainbows
vexed by conformity
we are who we are
you are.
zig-zags are more fun than straight lines.