Day 30 - Ending

 The cat with the mouse in its mouth is just passing through. Past the mourners, veiled and shuffling through a rhythm only known in grief. In the corner of the room, he finds a perch to place his prize - to sit and watch grim pageantry. The procession moves sluggishly, dragging their polished shoes across the worn carpet tile. They talk around the reasons for being here; about weather, about the family, about anything but the one thing missing. 

The cat sinks its teeth into Death and makes the process simple. 

Napowrimo Day 30

 So we come to it at last - the final prompts of the month. I definitely found this more difficult than last year but it has been a lot of fun. I hope everyone has gotten something out of the prompts and I look forward to next year's challenge. Without further ado, here are the last prompts for Napowrimo 2023:

Official Prompt:
 Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a palinode – a poem in which you retract a view or sentiment expressed in an earlier poem. For example, you might pick a poem you drafted earlier in the month and write a poem that contradicts or troubles it. This could be an interesting way to start working on a series of related poems. Alternatively, you could play around with the idea of a palinode by writing a poem in which the speaker says something like “I take it back” or otherwise abandons a prior position within the single poem.

My Prompt:
“Not with a bang, but with a whimper.” Or so the famous Eliot quote goes. As we wrap another month of prompts, I want you to consider endings. Maybe start the poem with your favourite ending line from another piece. Lucky Dip: Celebrate

Day 29 - Fragrance of Dark Coffee

 Rain.
Light against glass.
Susurrus of storm
behind each note.

Sitting,
curled in on yourself
beside warmth of fire.
Head in my lap.

Lost
in your own little 
Elysium; gone travelling 
while laying 

against 
me. My fingers draw 
shapes into your skin.
The music plays to 

itself.
Molasses slow, lullaby.
I lean down to kiss 
your sweet lips.

Napowrimo Day 29

 Official Prompt:
Start by reading Alberto Rios’s poem “Perfect for Any Occasion.” Now, write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal. At some point in the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person. Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue.

My Prompt:
I do enough of prompts with sight but never enough with sound so here we go. Pretty simple, I want you to listen to a piece of music called “Fragrance of Dark Coffee” and just write based on that. It could be in the background of a scene of a prose poem, it could be what the music makes you feel! Lucky Dip: Dawn

Day 28 - Word List 4

Take this - patchwork chambers of a heart worn
on a faded denim sleeve. Take needle and thread.
Take off the pieces and dredge them in soap to
wipe the smell of his cologne from you.

Take a run while it soaks - limber legs longing 
to take the memory of something other than 
his hands, huff out his name in the scorch
of your lungs. And then, at the peak of the trail,

press your back into the rough skin of an oak,
stationary, and take his name from the 
vault of your mouth. Take it out and let 
the wind take it from you.

Napowrimo Day 28

Official Prompt: 

Today, I challenge you to write your own index poem. You could start with found language from an actual index, or you could invent an index, somewhat in the style of this poem by Kell Connor. Happy writing. 

My Prompt: 

Last one of the month! Write in any form but include the following words: needle, huff, dredge, stationary, worn, limber

Lucky Dip:

Kiss

Day 27 - Book

We learn each other's hand 

in the margins of books kept hidden 
in plain sight. I know your 
cursive better than the 
curve of your lip. I think about 
how it would be to write ourselves 
into each other's worlds and, 
perhaps, get to trace the line of 
brow. The crook of your elbow. 
The apex of your jaw.

Learning to read the verse 
from your skin; a story kept 
for yourself until, here, we let 
it breathe. 

Napowrimo Day 27

 We are in the home stretch now!

Official Prompt:
Today, begin by reading Bernadette Mayer’s poem “The Lobelias of Fear.” Now write your own poem titled “The ________ of ________,” where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal, and the second blank is an abstract noun. The poem should contain at least one simile that plays on double meanings or otherwise doesn’t quite make “sense,” and describe things or beings from very different times or places as co-existing in the same space.

My Prompt:
Using a short form of your choice, such as a halibun or tanka, write a series consisting of the chosen form that goes through the phases of the moon. Lucky Dip: Book

Day 26 - Bite

 Hold still.
Let me test the pulse 
in your neck with my teeth.

Let me press the threat 
of my hand around your wrists;
the cut of sharp nail 

pinned to your palms.
Hitch of breath, crescendo 
approaching as the heat 

rebounds between our bodies. 
Feel your life pass 
across my tongue as it 

traces the road of an artery
down the map of you; 
a world to conquer 

in this moment as you, 
caged bird, sing my name 
like a deity. 

Napowrimo Day 26

Official Prompt: 

Write a portrait poem that focuses on or plays with the meaning of the subject’s name. This could be a self-portrait, a portrait of a family member or close friend, or even a portrait of a famous or historical person. If you need help delving into the meaning of your poem-subject’s name, this website may help.

My Prompt: 

Last year, one of the prompts was to write a poem consisting of ten items that one might find at an auction. This year, I want you to list ten items that one might find in a museum or a gallery. As an extra challenge, try and keep each exhibit personal to you - as though it were. Write in any form including those items.

Lucky Dip: 

Violence 

Day 25 - Twelfth Night

Item 1: the mahogany dark of these eyes set back beneath the wilderun of a near black eyebrows. Occasional flash of silver slipping through the density.

Item 2: Dark circles, almost bruised, flanking once broken nose.

Item 3: Nose itself. Unremarkable.

Item 4: Bitten pink lips, lower full worried by crooked teeth.

Item 5: Stubble streaked jaw and chin. Spectrum of monotones.

Item 6: The faintest trace of a scar, mid-forehead. An anecdote waiting in the vaults of a mouth, eager to be told.

Napowrimo Day 25

Official Prompt:

Begin by reading e e cummings’ poem [somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond]. This is a pretty classic love poem, so well-known that it has spawned at least one silly meme. Today’s prompt challenges you to also write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places. 

My Prompt: 

Imagine, if you will, that everyone has forgotten you and how you look. Write how you would describe yourself to them. One way in which to do this might be to write an inventory, similar to Twelfth Night where Olivia mocks love poetry by listing her features plainly (Act 1, Scene 5).

Lucky Dip:

Crypt

Napowrimo Day 24

Official Prompt: 

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in the form of a review. But not a review of a book or a movie of a restaurant. Instead, I challenge you to write a poetic review of something that isn’t normally reviewed. For example, your mother-in-law, the moon, or the year you were ten years old. 

My Prompt: 

For today, I want you to take an image from nature and write describing it as something concrete. Avoid, if you can, any leanings towards discussing scents or sounds or slipping into what it reminds you of. Try to remain in the present and look at it almost as though it is a blueprint or an architect's specification. 

Lucky Dip: 

Bridges

Day 23 - Belief

"And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own" - Summer Highland Falls by Billy Joel

Here, beside the altar of this bed 
stood waiting. Back to the door, 
wavering prayer whispered under 
the breath to a god that never listens.

Hear the screech of door hinge. 
Do not flinch at it. Do not flinch as 
the chill of His coarse fingers 
trails along your bare arms. 

Kneel for Him. Take his name 
for your own. Open yourself to 
Him like a home. Learn to live 
with the knowledge that He 

holds you lightly in the palm 
of His hand and plays God.

Napowrimo Day 23

We are into the final miles of this marathon! Only a week left to go! So without further ado, lets get into it.

Official Prompt:
Start off by reading Arvind Krishna Mehrotra’s “Lockdown Garden.” Now, try to write a poem of your own that has multiple numbered sections. Attempt to have each section be in dialogue with the others, like a song where a different person sings each verse, giving a different point of view. Set the poem in a specific place that you used to spend a lot of time in, but don’t spend time in anymore.

My prompt:

I want you to attempt a Ghazal. The ghazal is a short poem consisting of rhyming couplets, called bayt or sher. Most ghazals have between seven and twelve bayts. For a poem to be considered a true ghazal, it must have no fewer than five couplets. Almost all ghazals confine themselves to less than fifteen couplets. Ghazal couplets end with the same rhyming pattern and are expected to have the same meter. The ghazal's uniqueness arises from its rhyme and refrain rules, referred to as the 'qaafiyaa' and 'radif' respectively. A ghazal's rhyming pattern may be described as AA BA CA DA, and so on.

Lucky Dip:

Belief

Day 22 - Highway

Take this;

Us

     and ahead - 
                            valley;
        anthracite blade
cut through    

                            constellation of 
                                        trees.

And passing,
            green silver 
                                blue 
                white grey 
                                        cherry burst 
bringing us 
           back

                        to present; 

                                                hum of wind, 
    frisson of fingers 

woven.

                            And again,

                                                 trees.

            Clearing into 
                                river 
                                   shallowing beneath us.

Napowrimo Day 22

Official Prompt:

As you may know, although Dickinson is now considered one of the most original and finest poets the United States has produced, she was not recognized in her own time. One reason her poems took a while to gain a favorable reception is their slippery, dash-filled lines. Those dashes baffled her readers so much that the 1924 edition of her complete poems replaced some with commas, and did away with others completely. Today’s exercise asks you to do something similar, but in the interests of creativity, rather than ill-conceived “correction.” Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it! (Not sure where to find some Dickinson poems? You’ll find oodles at the bottom of this page).

My Prompt:

One of my favourite collections that made me fall in love with poetry was Carol Ann Duffy’s “The World’s Wife”. In which Duffy explores famous female characters (or, in some cases, the counterparts to male ones) with her witty, acerbic style. And today I want you to attempt the same! Choose a female character from history or literature and write your own World’s Wife poem!

Lucky Dip:

Highway

Day 21 - Boy

Boy in the backseat

Boy in the back room

Boy being broken up with 

Boy mid breakdown

Boy burning at midnight 

Boy brought to the altar 

Boy born brawling 

Boy beaten down

Boy entwined with another 

Boy with a bleeding lip 

Boy with a silent prayer

Boy, debonaire

Boy lost in himself

Boy hopeful and waiting 

Boy broken again

Boy knowing he could have 

been Icarus but is scared 

of flying.

Napowrimo Day 21

Three weeks down! 

Official Prompt: 

Begin by reading Sarah Gambito’s poem “Grace.” Now, choose an abstract noun from the list below, and then use that as the title for a poem that contains very short lines, and at least one invented word. Here's the list: Glory, Courage, Anxiety, Failure, Defeat, Delight, Confusion, Calm, Belief, Cleverness, Despair, Honesty, Deceit, Strength.

My prompt:

It's word list day. You know how this goes by now. Write in any form but include the following words: susurrus, pitch, ridge, bottle, render, customise.

Lucky Dip:

Boy

Day 20 - Fear of The Dark

 Sleeping with a light on to fight shadows. Some thing stirred its way along the walls without it; a cloak of ink around a mass that was within the wall, became the wall, became tower, became infinitesimal. But it dissolved beneath the soft yellow glow of lamplight from landing hallway; door left wide open.

Years pass. Hurricane of tears and moods and lessons in patchworking a heart. All within the shell of midnight - within the unlit bed. Within a child hiding behind adolescent bluster, into adult dismissal. Within the clenched fist that swings through the air, confused by its lack of substance. 

Napowrimo Day 20

A score of days have passed. I have missed a couple days but that's just how it goes sometimes. Time for the prompts:

Official Prompt:

Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a “World’s Best Grandpa” coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone.

My prompt:

Take note of the words on signs and street names you pass while driving, walking, or riding the bus. Write a poem where each verse starts with one of these words you notice.

Lucky Dip:

Bubbles

Napowrimo Day 19

Official Prompt: 

For this challenge, start by reading Marlanda Dekine’s poem “My Grandma Told Stories or Cautionary Tales.” One common feature of childhood is the monsters. The ones under the bed or in the closet; the odd local monsters that other kids swear roam the creek at night, or that parents say wait to steal away naughty children that don’t go to bed on time. Now, cast your mind back to your own childhood and write a poem about something that scared you – or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today. 

My Prompt: 

Something a little more concise today. Quite literally. I want you to write a poem within the length of a tweet - that’s just 250 characters. 

Lucky Dip:

Mountain

Day 18 - Summer

 The radio aches a little song as we drive over coast roads and out across the hem of the horizon. Each note is a dodged pothole, an amber light shot through, a guttural growl of tire tread. We sigh through counties as the radio tells us about love. About all the things it wants it to be but here, your hand over mine on the gearstick, is what it is; the sky bruising dark above us as the sun jealously steals the warmth for itself. We keep driving; singing our moment to the world.

Napowrimo Day 18

Official Prompt:

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet. You could write a very strict abecedarian poem, in which there are twenty-six words in alphabetical order, or you could write one in which each line begins with a word that follows the order of the alphabet. This is a prompt that lends itself well to a certain playfulness. Need some examples? Try this poem by Jessica Greenbaum, this one by Howard Nemerov or this one by John Bosworth.

My Prompt:

I’ve used this one in a previous challenge so I want to see what it brings out this time around. In today’s poem, I want you to explore your current surroundings but do so as if you were lacking your smell, sight, taste, touch etc. This could lead you to diving deeper into the loss or absence of something. Conversely, it could lead you to explore the world in a new way! Have fun with it!

Lucky Dip: 

Summer

Day 17 - Feather

 Raven, perched above a door. Raven, 
watching out the window as moon waxes 
behind a willow's skirts. Raven, laughing 
at a bust of Pallas and all her wasted 
wisdom. Raven, with night in it's wings.
Raven, raving, regal sitting as a king 
in all his grandeur. Raven caw in the 
echoing halls. Raven, nevermore. Raven 
tail shimmering midnight. Raven 
across Orion's waist, aurora trailing 
from its beak. Raven, wingspan constellation 
wide. Raven, song of autumn. 
Raven perching. Watching. Waiting.
Raven roost and making home.

Napowrimo Day 17

Official Prompt:

 Today’s challenge asks you to write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant – preferably one that grows in your area. (That said, if you’re lacking inspiration, online seed catalogs provide a treasure trove of unusual and charming names for vegetables, fruits and flowers. Here’s one to get you started.) In the poem, try to make a specific comparison between some aspect of the plant’s lifespan and your own – or the life of someone close to you. Also, include at least one repeating phrase.

My Prompt:

Today, I want you to imagine yourself as an animal. Could be in the wild or in a zoo or on a farm. I want you to write a prose poem that observes human behaviours when interacting with this animal.

Lucky Dip:

Feather

Day 16 - Recipe

Begin with:

- Four cups of bitter almonds

- A sliver of moonlight, held as lightly as a life in your hand

- A pestle and mortar

- Blood drawn from your own palm

- A single bloom of nightshade, right down to the root

- Some semblance of fire.

Start by crushing the almonds to the beat of how he said "It's nothing personal, I just don't think we work."

Next grind the plant down the way he made a home for himself inside you. Save the petals to be confetti at a funeral.

Slice directly across the heart line and bleed out enough to make a paste.

Finally, shed one final tear for him before setting it alight.

Say his name the same way you did when he hold your face and said "I love you". 

The best results require patience. 

Napowrimo Day 16

 My prompt:
We are getting right into the weird and wonderful now. Today, I want you to write a poem that is also a recipe. For what? That is up to you! Let your imagination run rampant and see what happens. Official prompt: Today’s prompt is a poem of negation – yes (or maybe, no), I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like. For example, if you chose a whale as the topic of your poem, you might have lines like “It does not settle down in trees at night, cooing/Nor will it fit in your hand.”
Lucky Dip: Graveyard

Day 15 - Titles

 A Marvellous Light

The darkness outside us makes the glow of a candle feel holy as we kneel before each other, as if in prayer. We, in these little silences with small smiles gifted; offerings - almost waiting for permission, for us to draw closer into the communion of each other's arms. Feel the brush of your hands running across my skin; feel the frisson of you against my lips. And, from here, we sit together. We take tea. We sleep with fingers interlaced. This, would be a wish granted; to be so irrepressibly, conventionally yours.

Napowrimo Day 15

 Officially halfway through! I hope everyone has been going well this month and you have all been enjoying the prompts! With that said, let's get going on to today:

Official Prompt:
Begin by reading June Jordan’s “Notes on the Peanut.” Now, think of a person – real or imagined – who has been held out to you as an example of how to be of live, but who you have always had doubts about. Write a poem that exaggerates the supposedly admirable qualities of the person in a way that exposes your doubts.

My Prompt:
Time to be a little bit silly and have some fun. Look at a bookcase. It could be your own or perhaps one from a store or maybe one in someone else’s house. I want you to pick three titles from the books you can see and then write a prose poem from them. The first title forms the title of your poem, the second is your opening line and the third is your last line. Have fun! Lucky Dip: Green

Day 14 - Word List 2

Dreaming

Though, in a moment, we would plunge together into this bed as if breaking through it - surface of ocean to hear roar of a riptide. Through - edge of the forest, an orchestra of songbirds announcing us to the canopy. Through - factory shutter, press each other into the forge and remake each other, wrought from iron. Through - winter, your body as some semblance of warmth kept safe in my arms. 

In a moment, we would throw ourselves together. As if to articulate our meanings; as if a plume from a songbird's tail is a match for words plucked from your throat.

Napowrimo Day 14

2 weeks down! Let's get into it.

Official Prompt:

Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times)

My Prompt:

Time for my favourite word list. This list of words was devised by Carrie Etter and they are a challenge to try and fit into one poem. So, with that being said. Write in any form but include the following words: articulate, wrought, plume, orchestra, plunge, semblance

Lucky Dip:

Puzzle

Day 13 - Haggard Hawks

TUDICULATION (n.) the act of striking something with a hammer; bruising, battering Break me beneath the point of your thumb. Feel it strike , sharp in and watch stars form in the middle distance of my gaze - I want to feel the bite against my throat, I want the thirst. Bring it down like a father's fist; like war; like sun crashing itself into the world - spilling itself across us until the sky bruises; skin marked by ownership. Which is to say; we make ourselves celestial as we move in anticipation of the falling of his best leather belt.

Napowrimo Day 13

 Hello and apologies this upload is late. It has been a day of it. Now lets get into some poetry. One from the main site is quite substantial again so we will put that last.

Lucky Dip:
Scream

My Prompt: 
This one was used last year but I loved it so it is making a return for 2023. Haggard Hawks is a twitter account renowned for bringing odd, weird and wonderful words that often go unused into the light. Today, I would like you to have a little look through their account and pick a word. That word will form the title of your piece. Then see what follows from there!

Official Prompt:

tart by taking a look at these three short poems by Bill Knott.

Dear Advice Columnist

I recently killed my father
And will soon marry my mother;
My question is
Should his side of the family be invited to the wedding?

To X

You’re like a scissors
popsicle I don’t know
whether to jump back
or lick

Quickie

Poetry
is
like
sex
on
quicksand
therefore
foreplay
should
be
kept
at
a
minimum

Now, try writing a short poem (or a few, if you’re inspired) 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.

Day 12 - As Therapist

Sit.  Look at what you have here. Go back through the woods and find the road home.

What do you mean by that?

Do you think that you forgot part of yourself in a box somewhere and are no cast adrift without it?

Is it fairness? Is it just? Are you blameless? Was it enough? Were you? Was he? Did you expect the answers to come tripping off the precipice of your tongue so quickly?

Tell me how it felt to drive him home.

Tell me how it felt to watch him walk out

the door. How it felt to lock yourself behind it.

Tell me how it felt to drown.

Tell me how it feels now.

Do you want him? Are you sure?

Are you falling from your chair?

Pick yourself up. Go back through the woods to find your road.

Can you forgive him? Can you forget yourself? Can you, can you, can you?

Go back through the woods to find him. Pluck a flower from his hand.

Go back through the woods and learn to leave again. 

Here, don't leave your baggage behind.

Napowrimo Day 12

How quickly the first twelve days seem to have gone by! Let's keep it going today:

Official Prompt:

Today, I challenge you to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self (i.e., “Dear Poem,” or “what are my quatrains up to?”; “Couplet, come with me . . .”) This might seem a little “meta” at first, or even kind of cheesy. But it can be a great way of interrogating (or at least, asking polite questions) of your own writing process and the motivations you have for writing, and the motivations you ascribe to your readers.

My Prompt:

Every year I’ve done Napowrimo, I have discovered more and more new forms that I’ve never attempted or seen before. So for today, I would like you to go looking for forms and try one you have never attempted before! Hopefully you find something interesting and, most importantly, have fun with it!

Lucky Dip:

Canvas

Day 11 - Regret

If possible, I would reclaim the time wasted. The long years spent kissing the crook of your neck. The night hours of us, alone, breathing the songs of each other’s bodies out to lull us to sleep. The cumulation of unspoken hurts taxing the afternoon silences. The length of your arms become a calendar of this; how a vibrant thing fades, neglected. How it ends before we say the words or move to leave.

Napowrimo Day 11

Nearly two weeks in! 

Official Prompt:

This prompt challenges you to play around with the idea of overheard language. First, take a look at Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “One Boy Told Me.” It’s delightfully quirky, and reads as a list, more or less, of things that she’s heard the boy of the title – her son, perhaps? – say. Now,  write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made you laugh, or something someone told you once that struck you as funny. If you can’t think of anything, here’s a few one-liners I picked out of the ever-fascinating-slash-horrifying archives of Overheard in New York.

•             So I asked my priest, and he said “I think you should see other people.”

•             Don’t say “no” to drugs. Say “no, thank you.”

•             You smell like you want to be alone.

•             Oh hi! We were just speaking very poorly about you!

•             I feel so elated! Wait…no, I mean, “violated.”

My prompt:

Today, I would like you to try and write an ode to something you own that you use constantly. It could be anything from a pen to your computer. A good example of the form is Carrie Etter’s “Ode to my Leopard-Print Coat”.

Lucky Dip:

Regret

Day 10 - Angels Before Man

 Inspired by the wonderful writing of Rafael Nicolas. lines taken from page 198 of 'Angels Before Man'.

And, if prompted, I would stand with you in a room
filled with our reflections - to admire the artistry 
of your body. I want to claim it for my own;
'I want you to see how we are two halves of a single sun'.

We could twist and burn in the lusting space of 
night in these rooms we rattle through like ghosts while
'being embraced by the simmering heat of Michael's muscles'
to hear the cadence of your voice whispering my name;

Like a hymn, like a prayer, like an exultation before god 
and yours - held in the chantry of my mouth like
a miracle as we move in circles, floating in each other's gaze;
'Eyes dazed with lingering drunkenness'.

Here, in this moment, this could be something revolutionary;
as we press our lips together - this could be religion.

Napowrimo Day 10

 Last day of the bank holiday so lets get right into it!

Official Prompt:
I challenge you to write a sea shanty (or shantey, or chanty, or chantey — there’s a good deal of disagreement regarding the spelling!) Anyway, these are poems in the forms of songs, strongly rhymed and rhythmic, that sailors might sing while hauling on ropes and performing other sea-going labors. Probably the two most famous sea shanties (at least before TikTok gave us The Wellerman) are What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor? and Blow the Man Down. And what should your poem be about? Well, I suppose it could be about anything, although some nautical phrases tossed into the chorus would be good for keeping the sea in your shanty. Haul away, boys, haul away!

My Prompt:
Here’s a slightly different one. Go grab a book. It can be one of your favourites or something that just happens to be close to you. Open the book to a random page and take three separate lines from it. Now, write a new piece that includes those lines. Lucky Dip: Blue

Day 9 - Rorschach

 There is a man reaching out 

to grab at your throat. His hand is  a murmuration of swallows;  is the smoke rising from so many  chimney stacks. The hollow of  his eye becomes the apex  of a tunnel that feeds back into  the burning house. There is a man reaching out with  a fist that looks like war. He wants  to break you, burning his name  into the paths along the streets  he forms from his tongue. The birds dive again, reforming into  the silhouette of your body; becoming a bonfire just to burn your image if he can’t claim it for his own.

Napowrimo Day 9

Well I didn't manage anything yesterday so lets try again today!

 My Prompt:
I would like you to look at images from the renowned Rorschach test. Maybe come back and look at it at different times throughout the day. In a few lines, I would like you to describe how the image changes, how your perception of it changes each time you look at it. A good example of this is Jennifer Militello’s poem “Rorschach”.
Official Prompt:
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own sonnet. Incorporate tradition as much or as little as you like – while keeping in general to the theme of “love.”
Lucky Dip: Sunrise

Napowrimo Day 8

 Good afternoon! Time for another round! Going to put the prompt from the site last today because it is LONG!

Lucky Dip:
Frozen

My Prompt:

Today we focus on ekphrasis. I want you to have a look at this photograph from Henri Cartier-Bresson. Then, in around six or seven lines, I want you to write a prose poem about this picture. What you can see and what you can’t. Try to avoid the abstract and focus on what is in frame.

Official Prompt: 

This is another oldie-but-goodie. I remember being assigned to use it in a college poetry class, and loving the result. It really pushes you to use specific details, and to work on “conducting” the poem as it grows, instead of trying to force the poem to be one thing or another in particular. The prompt is called the “Twenty Little Poetry Projects,” and was originally developed by Jim Simmerman. And here are the twenty little projects themselves — the challenge is to use them all in one poem:

1.  Begin the poem with a metaphor.

2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.

3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.

4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).

5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.

6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.

7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.

8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.

9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.

10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).

11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”

12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.

13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”

14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.

15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.

16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.

17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.

18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.

19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).

20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.

Day 7 - Confessions

Inspired by 'Eat Your Young' by Hozier

I confess I want to drink wine from your collar bone; taste the ripe, plush cabernet of your lips as my name echoes from your throat like a hymn - make the intimacy sound like scripture in this moment. I confess the tangle of fingers through hair, I confess the frisson and solution - the burning of friction. The way in which we collide; warring with the red brick and tarmac, bruising the cities of our bodies coming undone as we lose ourselves to the rhythm of our breaths - growing ragged, rabid, raging and ready to break.

Napwrimo Day 7

We are one week in! Hope everyone has been enjoying the prompts that have come up so far. Time to get into the ones for today.

My prompt:
Time for a typical word list prompt. You can write in any form but include the following words: scripture, brick, ripe, solution, drink. 

Official Prompt:
Last, but not least, here’s our daily prompt (optional, as always). Start by reading James Tate’s poem “The List of Famous Hats.”  Now, write a poem that plays with the idea of a list. Tate’s poem is a list that isn’t – he never gets beyond the first entry. You could try to write a such a non-list, but a couple of other ideas would be to create a list of ingredients, or a list of entries in an index. A self-portrait (or a portrait of someone close to you) in the form of a such a list could be very funny. Another way into this prompt might be a list of instructions.

Lucky Dip:
Howl

Day 6 - Poetry International

So its a little late but I struggled to find a poem I want to use, finally settling on a German poem. Hope you enjoy:

Nothing Sung And Nothing Spoken

“Keine Messe wird man singen, Keinen Kadosch wird man sagen, Nichts gesagt und nichts gesungen Wird an meinen Sterbetagen.” Gedächtnisfeier by Heinrich Heine

Gathered masses holding candles  but not their tongues - chorus of taunts  sung all in one language. And the laments are left unsaid. Words smeared into the grave dirt  around the headstones. Watch them fold a flag for him  to place beside his portrait. Watch them  walk away and leave nothing  behind except these hands, once  held in his warmth; leaving only the  chorus and a grief in its echo.

Napowrimo Day 6

Today's "official" prompt:
Take a look around Poetry International for a poem in a language you don’t know. Such as this one in Finnish by Olli Heikkonen. Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem.

My prompt:
I promise I am trying not to put such a heavy focus on forms but I really wanted to put this one in as I found it a little intriguing. So this form does and doesn't rhyme. It comprises three stanzas, all with a rhyming scheme of a-b-c-d-e. So each individual stanza doesn't rhyme but they rhyme with each other, which is quite neat! Lucky Dip prompt: Juniper

Day 5 - What Time Is It?

 What time is it?
Forgotten plates line flat surfaces like jack-o-lanterns.

What time is it?
Orange Is The New Black on repeat but unheard.

What time is it?
One week. Paid leave. Mental breakdown.

What time is it?
Inventory: double bed, haunted by his smell.

What time is it?
A list of songs I cannot listen to.

What time is it?
All there is the echo of an unsaid goodbye.

What time is it?
An apartment become purgatory in his absence.

Napowrimo Day 5

It would appear me and the prompt writers for the official site have a fondness for Simic! Today's selection follows - 

My Prompt:

Time to attempt a call and response poem, in a similar style to Carrie Etter's "A Birthmother's Catechism". But I'm going to give you the question to respond to. The question is fairly simple - What Time Is It?

Official Prompt:

Begin by reading Charles Simic’s poem “The Melon.” It would be easy to call the poem dark, but as they say, if you didn’t have darkness, you wouldn’t know what light is. Or vice versa. The poem illuminates the juxtaposition between grief and joy, sorrow and reprieve. For today’s challenge, write a poem in which laughter comes at what might otherwise seem an inappropriate moment – or one that the poem invites the reader to think of as inappropriate. 

Lucky Dip:

Sore

Day 4 - Shakespeare

And, on my honour, no man was ever

worth of being so loved of you.

Words woven into the tapestry of us,

born out on our tongues

as promises; as longings. Given, like 

gifts, lips plush pink as a bow. 

We declare our hearts in one voice; 

echoing out across those tempests 

without once wavering. 

We kiss beneath the boughs of 

Time's sickle as if it were the branches 

of a willow and there...

What happy fools we become.

Napowrimo Day 4

I notice that my prompt for today bares a slight similarity to yesterday's from the official site but here goes! For something a little different, I would like you to write a sonnet in reply to one of Shakespeare's. And perhaps in a less flattering manner. Have fun with it and see what sticks!

From the Napowrimo site:

And now here’s another prompt drawn from our archives – and, as usual, optional! Today, let’s try writing triolets. A triolet is an eight-line poem. All the lines are in iambic tetramenter (for a total of eight syllables per line), and the first, fourth, and seventh lines are identical, as are the second and final lines. This means that the poem begins and ends with the same couplet. Beyond this, there is a tight rhyme scheme (helped along by the repetition of lines) — ABaAabAB.

And today's Lucky Dip:

Victory

Day 3 - Tercets

 And here we loved like winter in the woods; a careful path trodden between bare branches and glistening, bone-white snowdrifts.

And here we loved like a hibernation; locked into our little paradise of each other’s arms,  the warmth of his skin beneath these lips. 

And here we loved like remembering; A pale sunlight of nostalgia through the window to  highlight the ghost of you on the bedsheets.

Napowrimo Day 3

We're onto day 3!

From the official site:
Find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.” Your first draft of this kind of “opposite” poem will likely need a little polishing, but this is a fun way to respond to a poem you like, while also learning how that poem’s rhetorical strategies really work. (It’s sort of like taking a radio apart and putting it back together, but for poetry).

My prompt:
In my typical vein of the Rule Of Three, today is going to be a triple header! Tercets are short three line forms, such as the Haiku, and I would like you to use them as your verse/stanzas for today's piece!

Lucky Dip: Bullet

Day 2 - Church of Dementia

They gather for a mass they do not understand the language of. The stained glass depictions blur the edge of the angels and saints until they become each other. The readings lose words from each verse, hymns falling into a monotone of hums. Somewhere in the lack of music, the congregation's faces become veiled and grey. 

The priest moves to speak but cannot fathom how to begin.

Napowrimo Day 2

Time for the list of today's prompts!

This one is a classic at this point as I always try to include this prompt in monthly challenges. Devised by Carrie Etter, I want you to read Charles Simic's "The Church Of Insomnia". Once you have gone through it, I would like you to write your own church in the same style.

Lucky Dip prompt - Mother

And from the official site:

The Romanian-born poet Paul Celan once wrote a series of surrealist questions and answers. Here are a couple of examples:

                What is forgetting?

                                An unripe apple stabbed by a spear.

                What is a tear?

                                A scale awaiting a weight.

Today’s prompt asks you to begin by picking 5-10 words from the following list. Next, write out a question for each word that you’ve selected (e.g., what is seaweed?)

owl, generator, fog, river, clove, miracle, cyclops, oyster, mercurial, seaweed, gutter, artillery, salt, elusive, thunder, ghost, acorn, cheese, longing, cowbird, truffle, quahog, song

Now for each question, write a one-line answer. Try to make the answer an image, and don’t worry about strict logic. These are surrealist answers, after all!

After you’ve written out your series of questions and answers, place all the answers, without the questions, on a new page. See if you can make a poem of just the answers. You may find that what you have is very beautifully mysterious, and somehow has its own logic.

Napowrimo Day 1

 Hello and welcome.

I posted my own prompt very early in the day last night so I figured I would wait to see what the official site came up with and I am utterly enamoured with the idea so I went with it: 

"They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but they never said you can’t try to write a poem based on a book cover — and that’s your challenge for today! Take a look through Public Domain Review’s article on “The Art of Book Covers.” Some of the featured covers are beautiful. Some are distressing. Some are just plain weird (I’m looking at you, “Mr Sweet Potatoes”). With any luck, one or more of these will catch your fancy, and open your mind to some poetic insights."

For this, I am going to using what I consider to be the most important book of the year; Boy Like Me by Simon James Green.

Boy Like Me

He knows the perfume of my fear 
like he knows the coarseness of his 
fingertips against the skin of my arms.

He knows the thread of an arm around 
my chest - a safety for us both in the darkness
of bedrooms while nothing else moves.

He knows the zirconia glint from my 
earlobe is the sun and he makes himself 
Icarus for me - born to fall.

He knows that boys like us aren't born to 
last but, here in his arms with his lips
against my neck...

Doesn't everything feel so possible for us?