NaPoWriMo 27/30

An Unwarranted Carping

OMG you’re wound incredibly tight
like the thread of Rumples spinning wheel
a deliberate mass of insecurities
words striking your heart
like the pings of the sewing needle.
Sorry! Did i verbally fart?
I feel – like the mountain beyond the valley
hard, unforgiving and severely cold.
I emulate the emotions I’m shown
an uncontrollable stream of wait, what.
My branches are harsh, you were warned, told
I’m not made from the same cut.
Do I even have a heart?
Go ahead and lick you wounds,
I’m not waiting, I have no hi, or hugs
This wolf does not howl at the moon,
nor does the mountain accomodate
incessantly petulant bugs.

NaPoWriMo 24/30

Elegy

You were like Nelsons Column
standing tall, strong and solid
a friend and confidante, you
held us together like glue.
Your children scattered worldwide
letters flew from north to south
telephone calls day and night
in darkness, you were our light.
You found me in an island
told me stories of times past
spray painted silver holly
and entertained my folly.
But one day I woke up cold
the world had deleted you
vanished from weekend play dates
disappeared without a trace.
We didn’t know what happened
We didn’t have any clue
We waited for you to ring
But all we had was nothing.
Just a picture on the wall
your children’s children ask who
is that bright beaming shadow
we cry, just somebody we used to know.

NaPoWriMo – 21/30

Standing on the edge of tomorrow
her mind drifts like the creek she loves
drowning in her despair and sorrow
her darkness pulls her from above.

She meanders all the same highways
She jumps through the loops, as you do
But she never has something real to say
She’s just there, just something like you.

Alone in her urban cage, waiting
dreams of what it’s like to be them
jealous of the fun they are having
she stares out, looking into them.

They look at her as the special one,
they say hello, heads cocked to one side
quiet smiles before they shun
so they can tell each other they tried.

They think, she thinks she’s above them all,
that she’s a snob, rude or uptight.
They think, she thinks she can stand up tall,
but she can’t, there’s no life, there’s no fight.

She’s anchored by the rain of sadness
she see’s herself in The Hollow
and they see her as a human mess
a being not worthy to follow.

So she’ll stand alone in tomorrow
deflecting all humanity
they’ll call her a narcissistic pro
an order for one of vanity.

But, the truth appears in flecks of waves
each tide reveals a mystery
truth, no one knows how to play this game
although it comes to some more easily.

They say Narkissos fell to hubris
that he set himself apart from them
perhaps beauty was his lonliness
and it was not for them to condemn.

NaPoWriMo – 19/30

Cars paint every spot
the space left snakes
the creek sides
squeezing the space
like an elephant on your chest.
A bicycle sits snug
against the bowing tree
as it branches
spills over balconys
and abandoned talk radios
cover children’s laughter
from the urban mess
the city lines harsh
on a blue canvas
that turns to pink
then grey smoke or fog
blending into the bricks
and confusion of
chaotic urbanism.

NaPoWriMo – 18/30

Prompt: http://www.napowrimo.net/
Inspired/Crafted using Sarah Kays “In Case of an Emergency”

First Draft

I love sharing with you
moments of warmth and grace
soaring through twilight skies
the earth spins.
We all belong
we all breathe
it’s our melody
a force to be reckoned with
a force colouring the globe.
I wish I’d known,
the drums were there
but it was for me to give
my counsel.
I will never leave
our earth, is my home
I don’t need any more.
We had our time
this song is for you
we own it
we wrote it.
I’m sorry for the invasion
the child poet is gone
she’s just a memory
the taste is bittersweet.
He deserves to laugh
in innocence and grace,
I’ll never tell.
He holds me steady.
He pulls me up.
So I can drive.
So I can swing.

NaPoWriMo – 17/30

Prompt at http://www.napowrimo.net/

That one time

In a time of pogs and puzzles,
the country air breathed through my lungs.
I wore pig tails and pinafores,
with two kittens to snuggle.
One was called Lucy, she was mine
to stalk the woodlands and river
hiding under wooden bridges,
we were two souls of a kind.
Lucy had a wicked edge,
stealthy enchanting her prey
her green eyes pierced her dinner
as it ducked for the garden hedge.
I would never see her dead,
her tummy was full by the fire
we shared solitary silence
until my mum shrieked with dread.
As stashed in the kitchen corner,
Lucy’s super secret stash
sauntered behind the washing box
a nest of squeaky mourners.

NaPoWriMo 2/30 – Perspectives

You could have not gone for a walk that day,
you could have climbed up the river banks, and
you could have come home where tea was waiting
and you could have not had to say goodbye.

Damn! Stopping by the iron bridge over Wye?
She don’t know. The rocks crumbled like biscuits,
she froze like a sighted weeping angel
cracking under the wrath of Welsh thunder.

I was just walkin’ through the Wye Valley
and I stopped before the trembles of Autumn,
The sky darkened and roared above, I thought
I’ve had enough trouble for a life time.