Tag Archives: napowrimo

napowrimo, day 13: trying to write a poem

turquoise alabaster veins
run through a bright forest of rocks
somewhere in a corner of my
imagination.
the cat makes cracking noises as she eats her food,
the daughter clicks and clickclickclicks the mouse,
and somewhere over in a corner of my
imagination
there sits a little treasure that i want to catch.
the phone rings.
my roommate laughs.
somewhere way back in a corner of my
imagination
i try to fix that glimmer of a dream,
its sparkly colours, quiet sounds,
the mossy smells that come – i think, do they? –
from little cracks made by old, gnarly roots – –
and crash! a plate falls from the kitchen counter.
the dog barks. “mom, can i have twenty bucks?”
those turquoise alabaster veins
fade more and more.
but i know they’re not gone.
tomorrow maybe, or another year.
they’re safely stored away.

haiku

moving right along here with NaPoWriMo and a poem every day … today: 5 haiku.

fading, the noises
draw her ears out. she listens.
but the song is gone.

longer and longer.
it takes. for the sun to drown.
in… the.. pacific.

washing the dishes
under the old neon lamp.
clean cup. wrinkled hands.

alone on a chair
she sits. fifty-eight. shivering.
a car groans outside.

not yet. the blossoms
are still hard and tight. the thorns
soft yet. hold on. wait.

napowrimo: random poem

for national poetry writing month, i’ll be posting one of my poems every day.  today: a random poem, selected blindly from one of my poetry databases.

all over this land
my bell rings with water in it
it rings and it brings
cups full of overflowing worries
nagging guilting voices
saying
no no no
my own voices
ringing out danger
ringing out warning

and what i could do
is use my own voice
and sing songs of love