Day 25 NaPoWriMo - NaPoWriMo

Today's prompt was to write an "occasional" poem. I chose to write a poem about National Poetry Writing Month!

NaPoWriMo

Crocuses are out, cherry blossoms, tulips,
daffodils, dandelions, and rhododendrons.
April opens its curtain of rain to let the sun
and poetry shine through. Sidewalk chalk
hasn’t washed away and there are words
everywhere in the air, verse and stanzas
clouds and stars. This is the month of poetry
the time of propagation, creation. A time
to gather your words into spring, write them,
read them aloud to invoke the weather to change
and bring on the heat and berries of summer.

Day 24 NaPoWriMo - Curtain Fox

Curtain Fox

The curtains dig burrows in the sand
And adjoin to other curtains in tunnels.
The curtain’s fabric is prized in the world
with 32 chromosome pairs of exotic.
Curtains live in packs among the window rods.
They are straw-colored with a black hem,
tapered tassels like a dog’s wagging tail.
Curtains explore sand dunes and vast treeless areas
and prey on lizards, skinks, birds, eggs, and tubers.
They have the spine of a vertebrae.
Captive curtains drape themselves over one another
in a mating ritual when windows are open.
Their young are made from the weaving of sand
and air and the beige fur of foxes. Turning fabric
wild and exotic, trapped in the spinning wheel
of breeders, capture and disappearance.

Day 23 NaPoWriMo - Cut in the butter

I followed the Prompt and chose to respond to Ellen Bass's poem "Marriage". This prompt took me on a journey through my immediate morning and the feelings that I was having. I've chosen not to share this poem as it is one that I plan to submit.

Day 22 NaPoWriMo - Himalayan Blackberry

I wrote this poem in my notebook on day 22, but just got around to typing it up.

Himalayan Blackberry

It was the blackberry that Eve ate,
not the tame apple. She wove her hand,
cut it on the thorns to reach the sun
warmed morsel. She didn’t bite it,
no. With tongue and roof of mouth,
she pressed it, gushing out into a nectar,
filling her mouth with wild revolution.
Purple dribbled out her mouth,
and like an animal, she licked it up
quickly, not to waste a single drop.
She plucked more, each one like
a string on an instrument, music
of her hunger, collecting them
in the palm of her hand. She wanted
to give them to Adam, have him try
their violent flavor, but she ate
every one of them herself.
When all the berries picked,
she found him sleeping under
the shade of a willow tree;
she kissed him. He licked his lips
tasted sweetness and it was enough.

Day 21 NaPoWriMo - Filling

Filling

Blood can fill a vial.
Vials can fill a hospital.
Hospitals fill up with sick people.
Sick people fill up the beds.
Full beds and not enough workers to fill their needs.
Workers can fill an emergency room.
An emergency room can fill anyone with dread.
Dread can fill the halls of hospitals with our dead.

Day 20 NaPoWriMo - Sijo to Spring

Sijo to Spring

I slipped on my sandals to take the garbage out to the curb.
There, on the stoop, sat a fat bumblebee, powdered in pollen.
It groomed itself with spring, I too wanted a taste of yellow.

Day 19 NaPoWriMo - How can I help you today?

How can I help you today?

I dread calling customer service,
dialing through the menu options
taking time out of my day to listen
to a robot tell me all of the selections
that do not fit what I need help with.
A robot that thinks it knows what I need,
a know-it-all robot that is too happy
and tells me that it can’t take me
to an agent until it has more info,
and when I yell at it, it doesn’t react.
Instead, it tells me it didn’t understand,
can you please repeat your service request?
After the third attempt, the phone disconnects
and I never actually talk to a human.