around the church yard
forget-me-knots, running wild,
fail to recall you
© A.Chakir 2023
Na/GloPoWriMo
Day 13 ~ The Prompt
Write a poem that follows the beats of a classic joke. Emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem – such as the line breaks – and the punchline.
I think I bent the rules a bit. But I like writing nonsense that has some logic. And I also like writing about The Mad Hatter and Alice (I have quite a series of them). If you put Hatter or Alice into my search box you will probably find all of them. They have an ongoing relationship.
Day 12 ~ I didn’t use a prompt today
Considering Time
Where will we ever find time?
The answer to that
depends on the date of your death.
Consider it might be tomorrow
and make up your mind to live.
But, you’ve misunderstood my question.
I will rephrase it. Listen.
Where will we find time?
Let’s look in the hedgerows first
to see which plant are budding,
are they limp or dry?
Have all their leaves been lost?
Has a bird built a nest or are all the fledglings fledged?
Did they all fly away to the south?
A year is the same as a decade
or a summer can last a year
but only when you’re a child.
Time is a relative concept
linked to innocence.
It moves faster as you age.
To witness time watch an apple
moving from ripe to rot.
I don’t own a clock.
I don’t expect precision.
If you want to arrange a meeting,
I’ll meet you when the sun dips down
behind the ridge of your roof,
or later if you like
when Mercury hangs above us
a step to the west of Jupiter,
almost parallel to the the moon
(that is to say, on April the 12th at roughly half past nine).
I will wait for you there but if that’s too soon,
any chance meeting is fine.
These moments hang
on the infinite line of time.
Do you think it ‘s all on a line?
I don’t.
Everything turns around and everything’s relative.
The rotation of the stars at night
is faster than we perceive.
I’ve seen them move, from dusk to dawn,
by sitting as still as a rock.
© A.Chakir 2023
Day 11~ (base a poem on overheard conversation) ~ Finale.
Finale
‘I can’t sing’ he said, quietly humming.
‘Don’t worry’ she sang.
‘Neither can I.’
They arrived at some kind of harmony as soon they tried.
They were enchanted, ensung,
enthralled to the music soaring, undone.
Lovers singing the song of each other
make patterns, staves, notes in the dark.
It can’t be wiped out once it’s written.
© A.Chakir 2023
NaPoWriMo Day 10 ~ Write a Shanty ~ ‘How to Write a Shanty, Call and Response’~~~
Splitting pentametres makes the tune roll.
Think about water and raising the waves.
Hey ho, let the words flow
No need to write like grammatical slaves.
No need for sailors, no need for salt
Hey ho, let the words flow
Scatter some verbs, let the syntax revolt
Mention some senses, avoid the trite phrase
Hey ho, let the words flow
Don’t rest on the rocks, that strand is a phase
Don’t forget metaphor, burnish the truth
Hey ho, let the words flow
Don’t use old words like begads and forsooth.
Hold onto the rhyme, don’t let the rope go.
Hey ho, let the words flow
© A.Chakir 2023
NaPoWriMo 9 ~ Not inclined to write a sonnet
No Sonnet
I’m not in the mood for sonnets
Or ghazals, triads or odes.
I’m writing a ballad instead
I don’t want to write about love
I’ve got that walking rhythm now
The chorus will soon come along
It should have a bridge, it wont
I’m not making any effort
I can’t be bothered to rhyme
except in the chorus ahead.
The chorus is coming right now!
Who on earth would be a poet!
I could have just stayed in bed.
Oh, who would be a poet
Sing loud, sing clear, be unread.
No-one should be a poet
To be read, write memes instead.
© A.Chakir 2023
NaPoWriMo Day 8 ~ Luke
Luke
Life is a road with many whips, silent crossroads and knots.
I’d fly off with the birds, if my wings weren’t hidden.
I’d feel the wind on the water and see the birds songs.
I’d hear the strong blast of yellow that comes with the sun.
But none of that ever happened.
Once upon a time it seemed possible.
Everything seemed possible then,
in London with Luke I might have stayed happy
if the roads never twisted and bent
We walked through the City Squares
amid the Mimosa, Jasmine and traffic fumes.
His skin had the scent of dried cedar.
Pimlico, Stepney, Westminster and down to the docks,
we ducked and dived into museums to feel the heat
then down through Covent Garden.
Five miles a day is nothing,
when you’re looking for something to eat.
‘Buy a rose for the lady, mate!’
We had no money, no dosh, no doe.
You can pick roses for free in the parks.
Money is meaningless in paradise garden,
brimming with beauty and rain soaked grass.
The bridges criss-cross the river
following constellations,
and the stars that shine out in the dark.
He calls her ‘Angel’
But I think he is hers.
That won’t stop me predicting an end.
He holds her hand inside his coat pocket
To stop their world falling apart.
Eles não terão sorte.
They don’t stand a chance.
The trees in the park bend down
to listen to their words.
Lovers prattle and tease with affection,
whispering on the air.
It’s all scattered amongst the leaves.
Their words may still be there,
treasured in tree bark or written in fallen twigs.
Time is moving on.
O tempo é um traidor
The sparrows come home in the evening,
the pigeons are losing their feathers,
the fountains are freezing over.
A clock chimes in Whitehall.
Eros shifts on his plinth, covered in dust and decay.
© A.Chakir 2023
NaPoWriMo Day 8 Prompt is long
It’s complicated!
- Begin the poem with a metaphor.
- Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
- Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
- Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
- Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
- Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
- Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
- Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
- Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
- Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
- Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
- Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
- Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
- Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
- Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
- Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
- Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
- Use a phrase from a language other than English.
- Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
- Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.
NaPoWriMo Day 7 – The Great Divide
The prompt today was to create a poem that is also in the form of a list.
The Great Divide
To make a home you need more than bricks and mortar
Or well seasoned timbers.
You need money to furnish your nest
With warm beds and comfortable chairs
And food in the fridge and the cupboards.
Your cupboards must never be empty.
Love is never enough when you’re hungry
And you have no money for pleasure.
What you may have is too much time.
You may try very hard to be happy
You may cling to each other with sadness
But the world won’t let love exist
When the power goes out in the winter
You children won’t stand a chance.
In an ideal world there is warmth and laughter
The table will never be empty.
The house will smell of warm baked bread
Angel cakes rise in the oven.
Outside the windows the sun will be shining.
You will sit in the shade in your garden
Watching your children play,
Forgetting the great divide
Between nothing at all and plenty
© A.Chakir 2023
Day 6 ~ Poems from the French and Portuguese
Todays prompt was to read a poem in a language you are not too familiar with (so that basically you don’t understand it) and then, just from the sound of it write a poem of your own – I did two from French and Portuguese
Alone in the Dark
I contemplate my foolishness baffled by
the contrast of smoke and pure air
the leaves rustle outside my window
a piano is playing next door
I hear a tender tune of meetings in this moment
a song of the night, the earth
the dance of eternal stars,
inexorably close to my heart
The night again! after days of comedy
with no laughter, the sadness, my sickness
can’t be cured by the beautiful flowers.
The universe responds, but I cannot subsist
the days repeat and repeat, shouting encore.
My life is only sadness as I sit here alone in the dark.
Love is urgent
The urgencies of love
made me embark
on rough seas
the urgencies of desperate love
solid, square and cruel
bring my lament to the waves,
crashing around my feet
it’s urgent, it’s all going by too fast
so many kisses I sought in the cornfields
looking for roses and rivers
and open clear days
is my heart so impure
that I can’t find the light?
This love is urgent.
I came to the estuary
and now I am lost in the sea
© A.Chakir 2023
The Dreaming Path 