twisting and twirling
falling through a deep dark hole
madman with a box
finds poetry in people
sweet song of humanity.
Tag: #NaPoWriMo2014
#NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen – “a weeping angels woe”
Alone in the churchyard I watch
mortals mourning in tears and flowers.
Leaning against a rowan tree
abandoned by my family.
Beneath my feet a girl is weeping
I open my arms and kneel down
In surprise, she looks up at me
screaming like a startled crow.
She runs back through the stone and grass
reaching out to her, I follow
She turns to me – her eyes are cold
and zap – she’s now in the past.
Falling through time – I am weeping;
my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.
Left within eternal sleeping
this is where my Winter lingers.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Seventeen – “Castles”
Through the window is a narration
of the past and present mixing
my heart of inspiration.
I love the richness of these places
a group of united kingdoms;
strong pride in her peoples faces.
Albion has a long story
of Kings, with their conflict and feuds.
Just pages in her history.
The ruins of yesterday stand
tall and proud above the Wye
separating two ancient lands.
A little intimidating!
But at the same time, brilliant!
To see her strong and surviving.
A castle weathered throughout time
for centuries now her church bells chime.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen – “Questions”
Took the Day 14th prompt from http://www.napowrimo.net/ “Questions” ..
Dear Mr Moon,
Did you know you’re seen from this building?
Did you know your presence is daunting?
Did you know it feels like you’re haunting?
Why come out in the darkest setting?
Why insist on constant hovering?
Why do you insist on staring?
What could have you been doing?
What evil plans has been brewing?
What are you not saying?
Who is that man you’ve been hiding?
Who have you been confiding?
Who has helped you with the scheming?
When will you stop misleading?
When will you stop dreaming?
When will you stop lying?
Why is you face reddening?
Are you offended by my questioning?
Are you ready for my sentencing?
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#NaPoWriMo Day Fifteen – “Halfway”
Look at that, we made it 15 days into a 30 day challenge. In the spirit of the awesomeness that is halfway I actually wrote two poems. The first an adaptation of the ‘nonet’ structure and the other an ‘acrostic’.
Poem One
Climbing the steps of April’s staircase
decorated in rhyme and meter
an assembly of poems
sing a poets story
of being human
and living here
in this world
today
so
halfway
through April
which is today
she wanted to say
thank you for liking,
sharing and commenting here
and elsewhere on the interwebs.
I’ll try to stop writing about food.
***
Poem Two
Now, is the halfway mark.
A challenge; we did embark!
Poets from every time and place
Open their books and pencil case
With a writers eyes and heart
Rendered verses light and dark
Inspiration in their minds eye
Meter and rhyme play in the sky.
Our muse will find our spark.
***
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#NaPoWriMo Day Fourteen – “Song of Sorrow”
Whilst upon my weekend web travels I came across this artist: Victoria Frances – and was so taken with this piece I couldn’t help but write about it. If you want to see more of Victoria’s work please see here: http://www.victoriafrances.es/en/
Painted smiles and comical tears
lie beneath a gold plated mask
so many faces; so many years
Who I am? It’s only natural to ask.
I am the forgotten extra
a dark, morose, Venetian clown
just waiting for my exit, so
Death can rescue me from this crown.
For my master sits on the bloody throne
a cheater of time and of death.
I am a mere mortal instrument
to entertain until my last breath.
He found me by the Grand Canal
a weary flower weeping
took me for his possession
another toy for his keeping.
Winter breathes inside these walls
compelled to the dreary and dark
bound by magic into the night
cursed by an invisible mark.
At sunset, the music will start
and echo through the dusky halls
I am captive in his shadows
imprisoned inside the dark stone walls.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Thirteen – “When we were girls”
When we were girls
We wore stick-on earrings and yin-yang chains;
butterfly clips and colourful scrunchies.
We would cycle around the village lanes
finding our way home for afternoon teas.
When we were girls
we added each other to our bright fun fax
you were the first person I sent a postcard too.
We hung out; found places to relax
We had the same favourite colour: blue.
When we were girls
We would meet, Saturday morning, at the shop
and buy strawberry slushies and candy bars
later we’d walk through your garden of hop;
then your dad would drive us around in his car.
When we were girls
we would play on the banks of the River Bourne
making mighty forts out of sticks and mud
a waging war: dolly was forlorn
but the trolls protected her – like they should.
When we were girls
we’d watch our brothers act like jokers
as we swung our knees high into the sky
they’d ambush us with their super soakers
so we’d have to wait in the sun to dry.
When we were girls
we printed our photo’s at the shopping centre,
the only instagram was a polaroid;
we would use our diaries to record our adventures
and have to wait, to tell each other stories we enjoyed.
When we were girls
When we were girls – life was outside the window
it was made of exploration and discovery.
When we were girls – we valued the tenacity
of moments; of pictures; and of stories.
When we were girls…
… wasn’t that long ago.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Twelve – “Rain”
Careful steps where the puddles meet
a little lady wages war
Smiles of empathy cross the street
Her umbrella falls to the floor
It’s all about the shades of grey;
paint an urban watercolour.
it’s just four seasons in one day
a game we play in Melbournia.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Eleven – “Unrealistic Expectations”
A little girl waited for her “true love”
Studied her reflection in the mirror
She hoped to be as lucky as Jasmine
Happy ever after was her future.
Like the caterpillar in the oak tree
She grew into a pretty butterfly
But her one true love she still searched for
she concluded Sir Walt Disney had lied.
Instead, she wandered the world like Alice
created realities of her own.
She painted with her words; coloured the wind
She flew far far away from her home.
Just like Elsa she dreamt of letting go
All her skeletons fallen and broken
She sailed along life’s crooked road, in summer
Young and free, she left no words unspoken.
Once upon a time there was a young girl
who dreamed of meeting her one true guy.
Now there is a woman weathered by life
and beneath an old oak tree, is where she lies.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Ten – “London, Inspired by Blake”
So for today’s challenge I decided to use William Blake’s London as my source of inspiration see here http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172929. Don’t forget to let me know what you think! 🙂
Blake spoke of a wretched London
cursed by dreams of English elites.
Their world, an Orwellian dungeon
on the banks; on the city streets.
Still the people scream and shout
Still the people are marked with woe
Still the people wander about
Near where the chartered Thames does flow.
But above, the ancient houses
Eyes only see what they want to see
and treat humble peoples grouses
with no sense of propriety.
Is there hope for this ancient heart?
When history repeats herself.
Is there hope for her to restart?
And take her people off the shelf.
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