A minimalist poem for NaPoWriMo day 30, inspired by Fandango’s one-word challenge and a photo in one of my family’s scrapbooks.
Two children in
A red wagon,
Twins —
Radio Flyer
Through life —
Together.
NaPoWriMo 2019
Disconnect
For the Pix To Words prompt.
Big city // bustling marina
Five or six people sit on a bench,
Waiting, phones in faces, and
Do not see the sunlight glinting
On the surface of the sea.
Do not see the faces of companions,
Only their own reflection
In the smartphone screen.
Dueling Guitars
For the 29th day of NaPoWriMo and for Ronovan Writes’ haiku challenge.
Heartstrings, plucked and played
Dueling guitars’ minor chords,
Quick arpeggios
Brainchild
For day 28 of NaPoWriMo, we are writing meta-poems, or poems about poetry.
This pen spills ink because there’s an ache in me:
Words dance together and bump into, knock on
The door on the inside of my mind, waiting
Impatiently, wanting more room to be set free.
Finally, they are able to burst through the door,
Formed like Athena through the head of Zeus,
Not so gloriously, but a sign that I’m fighting.
Brightening
For this prompt in the Imaginary Garden, where we are taking inspiration from Ezra Pound.
Blue journal dappled with gold —
Expansive stars in a midnight sky
Photo of my journal by the author
A Seed Is Buried…
A poem that incorporates repetition and is about rebirth. This is a cascade poem.
A seed is buried in the ground:
Potential life that seems to die
Is getting ready for rebirth.
Preparing soil for planting:
In hopeful anticipation
A seed is buried in the ground.
And autumn leaves turn brown and red,
Fall to the ground and leave trees bare:
Potential life that seems to die.
Keep calm; exhale the frigid air,
Remember that nature’s cocoon
Is getting ready for rebirth.
Reflection on a Photograph of My Garage
For NaPoWriMo day 25 and this prompt about Imagist poetry from Real Toads. I took a photo of my garage and went from there.
To the left hangs my mother’s white tank top
Next to my brother’s green work shirt:
Notice
There is space between his things
And the pink shirt with tiny white polka dots
To the left hang my dad’s shirts, blue and black.
Look closer —
See the laundry baskets, one of which is
Half-empty, and behind that, the box and bag
Of clothes that won’t be worn again, that
Will be taken to Goodwill (eventually) —
See
Close to the door, a big blue suitcase
That hasn’t yet been put away, and an
Old round dartboard — years since anyone played.
