NaPoWriMo 2017 Wrap-up

So wrapping up another year of National Poetry Month. I lolled, I cried, I cheated, I slipped some I never got a chance to post into the old dates, I hit 20 poems in 30 days, I saw great old friends on WordPress. This blog may now go back into hybernation for another year, but we shall see! We shall see …

 

Love you all,

-B

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Ode to the Sickly Commuter

Saturated tissue
Sticky sweaty issues
Tobacco misuse
Sorry cant kiss you
Eyes burning
Never learning
Atchoo! Heads turning
Feeling feverish and surly
Dont mind my sneezing
Hands clammy and greasy
Feeling a bit queasy
Being sick on the train is never easy

Day 27 or something

Poem for my Chiquita

The way little fuzzys stick in your hair is my pride and joy
Your tiny wobbly legs are my pillars of strength
Your hyperactive squeals are my zen mantra
Your vulnerable frame curled asleep on my bed is my vigilance
Your babbling my eloquence, your fussing my focus
Your fear my courage and your laughter my most serious concern
Your tenderness is my battle cry, your curiosity my understanding, your absence my reason to wait, your frustrations my light-heartedness, your naive trust the reason for my cunning, your freedom my voluntary servitude
I love you my darling Kai-ita

Day 25? Maybe? Im lost here, no prompt, just life

Phantom Mom Syndrome

If someone tells you they have Phantom Limb Syndrome
And you offer to lend them your leg
YOU AIN’T GETTING THAT LEG BACK

Day 25: A whole convoluted lemony snicketish series of unfortunate inside jokes. But is it poetry?

Poem to Stick in Your Spokes

Poem to stick in your spokes

I am a ball of flailing legs and arms and dirt and dust
Tumbling over and under myself along this rooty trail
Once I was walking, no, once I was running
Powerful feet pounding forward in a rhythm
Arms swinging in synchronicity
Eyes firmly forward, flicking occasionally down as I jumped a twisted snarl or fallen log
But the roots and stones were too many and my gait was a fragile equilibrium
So now I tumble on forward head over heels over head
Grabbing at branches as I pass, a shoe flying out of the cloud to catch on a far away branch
Hoping only that somewhere somehow I will land back on my feet

Day 24?? No prompt just literally my life right now

You Can Eat a Yukina

(Chorus)
You can eat a Yukina
You can stew a Yucca stew
You musta seen a Mustard Green
Let us eat some Lettuce too

Share a Colrabi
with a cool Rabbi
Test your mettle with some Nettle
In a Nettle pie!
Pop a load of Popolo
Make time for the Thyme
Dont balk at the choice
of a choice Bok Choy!

Meander your core
towards some Coriandre
Spin up some Spinach
In an elastic band (er)
Juice up some Cukes
Serve it in a decanter
Talking is a bore
Unless the topic that youre talking bout
Is a Topinambour

Spare some Asparagus
For some of us
Keenly stew Zukini
On a minibus
You were made to eat tomatoes
So what the fuss?
Who cares a bunch about lots
When youve got a bunch of carrots tops

Day 22: So I thought I’d throw this in for prompt 22 “The original georgic poem was written by Virgil, and while it was ostensibly a practical and instructional guide regarding agricultural concerns, it also offers political commentary on the use of land in the wake of war” Not exactly a georgic, but I work on a farm on weekends, a vegan CSA (community supported agriculture farm) and we always make up silly songs to pass time and make each other laugh while doing repetetive tasks like seeding or planting,  and my boss told me I should write a song about Yukina (a common asian green we grow) so I started singing this and it stuck in my head. So, in its own way, a sort of Georgic, as a treatise on farm cuisine and a call to arms for skinny vegans everywhere

Poem in a Tunnel

Dark is rushing by
Nearly touching my
Head thats pounding hard
Whistle sounding sharp
Looking ever forward
Rounding every corner
People getting on
Never stopping long
Sound of pounding rails
Rush of drowning wails
Hear the flashing cry
Life is passing by

Day 11: More poetry on the morning commute