NaPoWriMo – Day #4 Out Foxed

foxes

Three foxy fates
stand and wait
guarding the pandemic gate

First, Fever Red
straps you in bed
She pounds a beat inside your head

Then Breathless White
steals your might
and seals your labored lungs up tight

Then Deathly Black
knocks you back
takes your soul, leaves your body slack

These fates are ruthless and badass;
unscathed from COVID, none shall pass

This is for NaPoWriMo and The Sunday Muse. Image by Anatasiya Dobrovolskaya.

NaPoWriMo -Day #2

so, through our desolation,
thoughts stir, inspiration stalks us
through gloom        -H.D.

 

Does hope really have feathers?
Or is it a green,
fresh thing
springing up
from the ground?

Or a tiny speck of light
like the occasional spot
that appears
in a photograph
invisible through the lens
but there, on the image

Or is hope a dark,
insubstantial thing
that follows
like a shadow,
stalking you
wherever you go

That movement
at the edge
of your vision
that feeling you get
sometimes
that you’re not alone

What is hope?
I don’t know, exactly
but I do know it’s there.
If you can’t find it just wait,
perhaps hope will find you

 


National Poetry Month – US – Day #1

National Poetry Month, a celebration of poetry which takes place each April, was introduced in 1996 and is organized by the Academy of American Poets as a way to increase awareness and appreciation of poetry in the United States. -Wiki

In that spirit I will post a poem here each day in April.  I mean, c’mon, we can only consume so many pandemic media reports.

And here’s Day 1:

I hold a heap of insults in my arms
they are so heavy and piled
so high, I can barely see
over the top.
I don’t know how much
more
I can carry
or how much
longer
I can hold them;
the effort is all-consuming.
But I am careful to never
drop a single one,
and now I add another to the pile
I stagger under their weight.
As I go about my days
I grow bent and bitter
under my burdens.
After all these years,
and all this time,
it has never occurred to me
that I could simply put them down.

NaPoWriMo #1

Spring is here
officially
Unofficially, tiny snow flakes
are dancing through
gunmetal gray skies
as if to taunt us
Last fall’s
dead leaves are
exposed like dirty socks and secrets
I go to the back of the closet
to get my winter coat

Happy Spring, suckers –
April Fools!

April is the cruelest month, and also National Poetry month. So in honor of that I will post a poem each day of the month. I should probably be linked to some helpful site that encourages this and gives writing topics, but I’m just not well organized enough to have thought about that. So, let the adventure begin.

30

The soft
spring breeze
saunters
through the screen door
as though it knew
how we longed for it
dreamed of it
in our winter hearts
It whispers
of warm, green days
of dirt and sprouting seeds
as it carries April away

25

I hold the disk of the moon
under my tongue
and count to one hundred
I feel it dissolve
as the silvery coolness
slips down my throat
curls in my belly
I swallow the moon
then keep her wisdom
in my blood
under my skin
no one knows
but they can see
I am radiant

You might want to take a peek at Verse Escape.

 

24

Pride sits
on a broken throne
in its hands, a tiny
shiny blue alphabet

Pride howls
alone on its throne
in the wee
hours full of bluster and bite

Pride clings
to its slippery throne
ringed by
angry fires
listening to the fiddler

Another for National Poetry Month, the subject is from Real Toads, where they suggested we write about the seven vices or virtues.