Not all it seems

the day of the dead is not all it seems

it’s like writing a letter to someone long gone

and seeing them stand up straight in old dreams

and just for the record

replaying those scenes I thought they forgot

or staying awake in a creepy old house

seeking atonement in the big void

you can always pay me when you get back

I will wait for you here for as long as it takes

while bluebells are piling up by the gates

Did I?

Did I love you enough?

That’s so hard to answer.

We all know it’s often the case

that an adoring lover might love too much.

I don’t think I did that,

But I certainly loved you a lot.

And I kept the promise I made

to love you all my life.

That’s the only answer I’ve got.

Jump ~ a skipping rhyme

Trip to the hip hop

that big ol’ bop

Keep on jumpin

the beat don’t stop

Jump that rope

and land back square

Pig tails swinging

in frosted air

Jimmy stole your heart

But I don’t care

Revolting and Nasty

Slimey, incipidely white

is tripe

I don’t like paddywack

Kidneys smell of piss

Eat them if you like 

But it would be remiss

To serve of them up to me

Oyster are sea salt and snot combined and drowned with horror

I’m not going to write a poem about disgusting things
Just because you want me to
It doesn’t mean I should
Or even could

Now that I’m feeling sick
Want some jellied eels?

Black Bear Weather

Dark clouds rolling, blown from the sea
Squatting like bears, on cold growling mountains
Moving inland in threatening drifts

Wind growing strong, bringing huge rains
Black bears running across the drenched plains.

Feel the updraught now?

I do

A silver line opens the westerly edge
As lightening cracks diamonds
Out on the ledge

The sky opens wide.
I am not scared, of angry old bears
or the coming of death

One day a wild twisting new wind
Will loosen my roots
And at the right time, on the right day,
It will fly me away

Romantic Poet

I don’t write with a swans feather quill

or suck pomegranate seeds with sensual pleasure

probing my tongue into the skin.

I stare out to sea waiting for words.

My paper boats go sailing upstream

partially envisioned

finally seen

as I pull on my boots

polish the leather

and tie up my laces with vanishing dreams

Nothing is ever quite what it seems.

Lost Boy

Those were the golden days

before the world turned round

and I fell hurtling through space

losing the grace of my self.

I hated school but I survived

because I knew who I was.

All summer we were free, you and I.

We ran from the gates and out to the fields.

You always hung on to my hand.

I didn’t want to grow up, but we did

and then I left you behind.

I never found that freedom again.

I am tired of explaining myself.

My world for years has repeatedly fallen down.

I have never grown wings

but I can fake flying if you promise to close your eyes.

the prompts

31st March refer to a specific writer or artist (or work of literature/art) and make a declarative statement about want or desire. Set the poem in a particular, people-filled place, like a restaurant, bus station, museum, school, etc.

1st April The tanka is an ancient Japanese poetic form. In contemporary English versions, it often takes the shape of a five-line poem with a 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 7 syllable-count – kind of like a haiku that decided to keep going. 

2nd April a childhood memory. Try to incorporate a sense of how that experience indicated to you, even then, something about the person you’d grow up to be.

3rd April  Today, we challenge you to write a poem in which a profession or vocation is described differently than it typically is considered to be.

4th April craft your own short poem that involves a weather phenomenon and some aspect of the season. Try using rhyme and keeping your lines of roughly even length.

5th April write a poem in which you talk about disliking something – particularly something utterly innocuous, like clover. Be over the top! Be a bit silly and overdramatic.

April 6th In your poem today, try writing with a breezy, conversational tone, while including at least one thing that could only happen in a dream.

April 7th write a skippng rhyme

April 8th I did on 10th use a simple phrase repeatedly, and then make statements that invert or contradict that phrase.

April 9th try writing your own poem in the voice of an animal or plant, or a poem that describes a specific animal or plant with references to historical events or scientific facts. I didnt do this as I had a massive bang on my head and needed medical attention

April 10th In his poem, “Goodbye,” Geoffrey Brock describes grief in three short stanzas, the second of which is entirely made up of a rhetorical dialogue. Today, write your own meditation on grief. Try using Brock’s form as the “container” for your poem: a few short stanzas, with a middle section in which a question is repeated with different answers given.

April 11th Erasure poetry — also known as blackout poetry — is written by taking an existing text and erasing or blacking out individual words. Here’s a great explainer with examples, and you’ll find another here. Some folks have written whole books of erasures/blackouts, including Chase Berggrun’s R E D (which is based on Dracula), Jen Bervin’s Nets (which is based on Shakespeare’s sonnets), and what is one of the grand-daddies of erasures as a form, Ronald Johnson’s Radi Os (which is based on Paradise Lost). Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own erasure/blackout poem. You could use a page from a favorite book, a magazine, what have you. It can be especially fun to play with a book you don’t know, particularly one that deals with an unfamiliar topic. If you’d like to go that route, maybe you’ll find something of interest in the thousands of scanned books at the Internet Archive? Feel free to maintain the whitespace of the original text (as is traditional for erasures/blackouts . . . if anything can be called traditional about them) or to pluck words/phrases from your chosen source material and rearrange them.

April 12th Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that recounts a memory of a beloved relative, and something they did that echoes through your thoughts today.

April 13th Try your hand today at writing your own poem about a remembered, cherished landscape. It could be your grandmother’s backyard, your schoolyard basketball court, or a tiny strip of woods near the railroad tracks. At some point in the poem, include language or phrasing that would be unusual in normal, spoken speech – like a rhyme, or syntax that feels old-fashioned or high-toned

April 14th write a poem that similarly bridges (whether smoothly or not) the seeming divide between poetry and technological advances.

April 15th  write your own poem that muses on love, but isn’t a traditional love poem in the sense of expressing love between romantic partners.

April 16th Today, try writing a poem in which you describe something that cannot speak, and what it has taught or told you.

April 17th And now for our (optional) prompt! Sergio Raimondi’s poem, “Today Matsuo Basho Cooks,” plays on the following haiku by (you guessed it), Matsuo Basho:

Crimson pepper pod!
Add two pairs of wings, and look—
darting dragonfly.

For today’s challenge, write a poem in which you respond to a favorite poem by another poet.

April 18th Today, we don’t challenge you to write all of a long, dramatic, narrative poem, but we invite you to try your hand at writing a poem that could be a section or piece of one. Include rhyme, include unlikely and dramatic scenes (maybe a poem about a bank robbery! Or an avalanche! Or Roman gladiators! Or an enormous ball held by mermaids, where there is an undercurrent (hee) of palace intrigue!) Basically, a poem with the plot of an opera (evil twins! Egyptian tombs! Star-crossed lovers! Tigers for no apparent reason!)

April 19th If you’re so inclined, you could even do some outside research into your flowers, and incorporate facts that you learn into your work.

April 20th For today, try writing your own poem that uses an animal that shows up in myths and legends as a metaphor for some aspect of a contemporary person’s life. Include one spoken phrase.

April 20th the nickname of a place

April 22nd poem in which the speaker is in dialogue with him or herself.

Kandinsky is with us

the museum had only just opened

a bitter wind was blowing outside

i went in looking for warmth

i was confronted by explosions of colour

Kandinsky’s wild patterns glowed on the walls

they meant nothing to me at all

but the intensity was full of real life and such joy

beating against my ribs and my eyes

that i wanted to cry for the world outside

and the people who have to leave us