Tag Archives: people

NaPoWriMo At The End

Good bye NaPoWriMo We’re At the Very End

 

Good bye NaPoWriMo, as tired as I have been

It’s truly inconceivable that you’ve become a friend.

I’ve never written poetry, but every day I’ve tried

And I tell you truly now, that my poor brain is fried.

 

My Microsoft Word is always open

And I lock myself into my den.

So I won’t miss a wondrous thought

A tape recorder I’ve even bought.

 

You’ve made me rhyme my sentences

I know by looking at my friends it is

A fact that they just want to escape

Or on my mouth put masking tape

 

I’ve a reservation in the Looney bin

But I’ll be adding to their poetic din

Goodbye my NaPoWriMo friend

And to the winds I will this send

 

I’ll ne’r forget you leading me

On to this smooth and wondrous sea.

You’ve opened a hole into my brain

That can empty itself like pattering rain.

NaPoWriMo

BLAME  IT ALL ON SOMEONE ELSE

Once I saw a dainty dancer

She twirled across the stage.

I wondered if this little figure

Was filled with joy or rage?

 

I saw no feelings on her face

As it was just a blur

I stood there staring at her grace

And wished I could be her.

 

Once I saw a woman ride

A horse so artfully;

Not a movement did she make

Their minds were one, you see

 

They walked and turned while in the ring

They cantered, jumped and flew.

Horse and rider both as one

I said “I want to be you”

 

Unfortunately, I go through life

Not looking at my talents.

Not confident of me, myself,

And lacking any balance

 

I try to show some confidence

I act so large and tall.

But family, friends and strangers

Don’t see me here at all.

 

I passed this on to daughter love

I was afraid of her conceit

And now I feel so terribly bad

That all she only feels defeat.

 

I know we’ve all made errors

And wish we could have changed.

But, sadly we must live with them

And only feel deranged.

 

Well, I’ve made so many “mother” errors

I remember every one

They’re things my mother taught to me

And Dr. Spock’s “good” way.

 

So, I crawl again beneath my rock

Relieved to be alone.

Perhaps this is my chosen space,

My special safety zone.

NaPoWriMo

Have you ever thought how nice it would be if all people were quiet and didn’t talk so much!  Have you ever wondered how many words are necessary to say what you want?

 

SHRINKING THOUGHTS

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave me now!

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave me!

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave!

Oh! Say I then loudly.

Oh, say I then.

Oh, say I.

Oh, say!

Oh!

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #26, Optional Ruin a Good Poem by Pulling Out Words for Another

This was another hysterical prompt (optional) where we were prompted (optionally) to take a poem written by another author and make another poem out of those words. Then we crossed out the words that we used and if we could, write a poem from them and so on and on.

Of course I had to choose a poem by Longfellow because I am also reading a book of local history written by John Ogden Wadsworth. Each word I took out of the original made my poem sillier and sillier!

I chose:
THE CHILD ASLEEP (From the French) by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sweet babe! true portrait of thy father’s face,
Sleep on the bosom that thy lips have pressed!
Sleep, little one; and closely, gently place.
Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother’s breast.

Upon that tender eye my little friend,
Soft sleep shall come, that cometh not to me!
I watch to see thee, nourish thee, defend; –
‘T is sweet to watch for thee, – alone for thee!

His arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow;
His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm.
Wore not his cheek the apple’s ruddy glow,
Would you not say he slept on Death’s cold arm?

Awake my boy! – I tremble with affright!
Awake, and chase this fatal thought! – Unclose
Thine eye but for one moment on the light!
Even at the price of thine, give me repose!

Sweet error! – he but slept, – I breathe again; –
Come, gentle dreams, the hour of sleep beguile.
O! when shall he, for whom I sigh in vain,
Beside me watch to see thy waking smile?

Then removed some words:
Sweet babe! true portrait of thy father’s face,
Sleep on the bosom that thy lips have pressed!
Sleep, little one; and closely, gently place.
Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother’s breast.

Upon that tender eye my little friend,
Soft sleep shall come, that cometh not to me!
I watch to see thee, nourish thee, defend; –
‘T is sweet to watch for thee, – alone for thee!

His arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow;
His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm.
Wore not his cheek the apple’s ruddy glow,
Would you not say he slept on Death’s cold arm?

Awake my boy! – I tremble with affright!
Awake, and chase this fatal thought! – Unclose
Thine eye but for one moment on the light!
Even at the price of thine, give me repose!

Sweet error! – he but slept, – I breathe again; –Come, gentle dreams, the hour of sleep beguile.
O! when shall he, for whom I sigh in vain,
Beside me watch to see thy waking smile?

Then I removed some more words (which made it silly and nonsenceble):

Sweet true portrait.
Lips sleep on
Closely. Sleep,
thy mother’s eyelid.

Upon my eye
shall that cometh.
See thee nourish
alone is sweet.

Arms fall down.
Eye is closed.
Wore the ruddy.
Slept he on.

With tremble, I
chase this thought
but one moment.
Give me thine.

He but slept
hour of sleep.
Whom I shall.
watch to see.

Removing some more:

Thy babe
that have thy
little one
drowsy

Little friend,
soft sleep come.
I watch
for thee.

Sleep sits.
He sleeps.
Apples,
you say.

Awake!
Fatal
for thine
price.

Error!
the dreams!
O!
Waking.

Running out of words here!

Of
and
on
thy.

To ‘t
His,
nor his
would.

My boy,
and even
of sweet
gentle, for me.

NaPoWriMo 2013, #15, Pantun Prompt and More

I’m so proud of myself. Not only did I do a pantun “The Three Sisters” but I also wrote something (whatever it is) called “And In The Beginning”!

THE THREE SISTERS

I look at the beans climbing corn fast.
Knowing the squash will care for the earth.
My sister leads my sister last.
I’ve known I’ll feed my mother since birth.

AND IN THE BEGINNING

Grandmother Spider, done with her weaving
needed some companionship.
She moulded some clay into four different people
and poured on some brown, white, red, yellow slip.

Thus, People were made who wandered all over
and found a hole in Grandmother’s ground.
They looked down, surprised that they couldn’t see bottom
and lowered a vine so that they could climb down.

The vine was in fact, way too short in the long run.
The People too tired and wanting some fun,
they let go the vine and fell farther and farther
They smiled as they felt the warm rays of the sun.

Red, White, Brown, Yellow looked down and saw water
and knew right away that they were sunk
but wise turtle saw them and quickly swam over.
They landed then with a clunk, clunk, clunk and clunk.

Turtle, he swam for eons and eons
Growing bigger and bigger as things usually do.
Brown, Red, White, Yellow were then separated.
The shell turned to earth and vegetables grew.

The hole then turned black along with the ages.
The people forgot they were brothers to start,
So hatred started twixt red, White, brown, Yellow
and Grandmother Spider did break her own heart.