NaPM April 23 2015

[milo]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month. 









Topic 23: Write a "definition" poem, IOW a poem inspired by the definition of a word, concept, yourself etc.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

[just mercedes]

A definition of war


A difference of opinion between
villagers on each side of a ravine -
some petty trouble ignited by wine
or religion escalates into violence,
evolves into revolution, risking
intercession by villainy waiting
patiently in apparent submission,
revolver hidden, suddenly presiding,
redefining education, ignoring
constitutions, residing in institutions
where violence is the measure
and treasure of man. Where now anger
and ignorance are normal, where love
and patience are despised as vile, defiling.

This is our nation, at war with itself.
This is why we are mourning.

[Snarly Locks]

Heart Mind and Soul

I gaze into my hollowed eyes and look into the soul.
The soul, like the mind, once so rich and bold.
I am witnessing the complete destruction of the heart, mind and soul.
The intricate demolition of the many molecules, which forms a functional being.
The failure of the complex thought process that allows rational thinking and normal day to day activity.
I am, through the eyes of one, seeing the magnificent collapse of the single most important trait that separates a man from an animal.
It is now shrouded in a concave mist of grey fog.
A darkness of demons. A universe of unexplained confusion, where the mind no longer attempts to rationalize.
A place where one can stand afar and witnesses one’s self.
A world of parallel extremes.  
A division of one’s mind and body.  
A path of complex and mesmerizing unison of unknown reality.
Where one can be and not be, each identical to the other.
An existence of two entities, one wrapped in a vale of authenticity, the other in a black void of insensitive, uncaring and cold consciousness.
A domain where one’s action is justified by one’s aspiration.
It is beautiful in its conception.
A journey not traveled, but for a few.
A sight so elaborate one has to be insane to appreciate the full scope of the devastation of a heart, mind and soul.

[billy]

april 23 2015

dark gold

shit is wondrous thing
the smell of a turd makes one sing
okay they're obnoxious
can make one unconscious
but
what joy a good shitting can bring
dogs do it
cats do it
even babies in their cribs do it
let's do it, let's fall in love have a shit
poo on your shoe
shows that one's followed through
couldn't hold mister hanky the swine
you blundered and tarted
you shit when you started
like a worm down your leg the stuff flew

[rayheinrich]

april 23 2015

dark gold

shit is wondrous thing
the smell of a turd makes one sing
okay they're obnoxious
can make one unconscious
but
what joy a good shitting can bring
dogs do it
cats do it
even babies in their cribs do it
let's do it, let's fall in love have a shit
poo on your shoe
shows that one's followed through
couldn't hold mister hanky the swine
you blundered and tarted
you shit when you started
like a worm down your leg the stuff flew

I bow before the master.

[bena]

Don't bow too close, Ray..

[rayheinrich]

               
                    < definition >
               
                a door
                to be gotten through
                one foot
                and another
                the twist of a handle
                then opening
                leaving
                all we did
                all the sad words piled up
                having
                to be waded through
                us
                and that door
                while outside
                the sky sweeps
                but what does the sky know?
                the sky always sweeps
                and the clouds
                must do their part
                like us and our words
                one after the other
                and we know so much
                we know our first kiss
                from our last
                just how to love
                but don't
               
                       - - -

[Erthona]

Atticism – Another Word of the Day Poem (from several days past, written today)

You express
your atticism
in your fine
dictionism,
never does one
find malapropism,
only clever witticisms…
like me I.  


Erthona


©2015

[Todd]

Unique

This is the word for the blind date
with the great personality,
your friend will struggle to describe.
She is a like a quantum singularity
in Star Trek—impossible
to understand in the world we live.
It is certain, that James Kirk would
sleep with her, even at his advanced age.
Though, you won’t be sure
if it’s wise. She may explode
like if you’d pulled the top off
a novelty can of snakes.
The entrée will relieve this tension.
She will ignore the warning, touch
the hot plate, and melt
like the fragile snowflake
she always was.

[bena]

as a foreword, I would like to say that there were much easier definitions or concepts I could have chosen, but I went for the challenge.  Don't judge me too harshly, this is a first attempt.



Villanelle

My hands are drenched in tepid red.
I clutch my sweaty pen in palms.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

Though rhyme and I have never wed,
I've never faced it with such qualms.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.

A hope keeps surging, though I've bled,
that words I spew might be a psalm.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

I don't remember what I've said,
the tickling wind, it seems to calm-
my hands are drenched in tepid red.

My heart's still drumming with great dread.
I'm looking for a cleansing balm.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

[ellajam]

as a foreword, I would like to say that there were much easier definitions or concepts I could have chosen, but I went for the challenge.  Don't judge me too harshly, this is a first attempt.



Villanelle

My hands are drenched in tepid red.
I clutch my sweaty pen in palms.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

Though rhyme and I have never wed,
I've never faced it with such qualms.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.

A hope keeps surging, though I've bled,
that words I spew might be a psalm.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

I don't remember what I've said,
the tickling wind, it seems to calm-
my hands are drenched in tepid red.

My heart's still drumming with great dread.
I'm looking for a cleansing balm.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

Oh, bena, I almost fainted when I saw the title next to your avatar. Really nice job with it, nothing to be scared of after all.

[bena]

I almost fainted as soon as I came up with idea, so we're even =)

[Tiger the Lion]

Disenchantment

 
It starts at birth;
they slap you
‘til you breath on your own.
 
It won’t be long
before mother’s nipples
turn to latex,
 
before the tooth fairy
leaves an IOU,
 
before you smell brandy
on Santa’s breath,
 
before a pet dies
 
or worse.

[rayheinrich]

I almost fainted as soon as I came up with idea, so we're even =)

I actually faint when I even come close to thinking of writing one of those damn things.
Not me, not ever, no how, and you did a good job of it. If I ever get too close to thinking offfffffffffffff

[billy]

not too shoddy at all

as a foreword, I would like to say that there were much easier definitions or concepts I could have chosen, but I went for the challenge.  Don't judge me too harshly, this is a first attempt.



Villanelle

My hands are drenched in tepid red.
I clutch my sweaty pen in palms.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

Though rhyme and I have never wed,
I've never faced it with such qualms.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.

A hope keeps surging, though I've bled,
that words I spew might be a psalm.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

I don't remember what I've said,
the tickling wind, it seems to calm-
my hands are drenched in tepid red.

My heart's still drumming with great dread.
I'm looking for a cleansing balm.
My hands are drenched in tepid red.
This paper cuts thoughts in my head.

[ellajam]

Vespertine At Rivernotch

In that moment when the fireball reflection
from the sunset behind us goes ppfffttt
the bats' ballroom buzzes as gnats rise,
dips and twirls just above our fingertips.
Barbecue smoke fades leaving honeysuckle
and wild clematis, vines brush our shoulders
and pull at strands of lake-loosed curls
as we lean our heads back and breathe
the still.

[rayheinrich]

Vespertine At Rivernotch

In that moment when the fireball reflection
from the sunset behind us goes ppfffttt
the bats' ballroom buzzes as gnats rise,
dips and twirls just above our fingertips.
Barbecue smoke fades leaving honeysuckle
and wild clematis, vines brush our shoulders
and pull at strands of lake-loosed curls
as we lean our heads back and breathe
the still.

I'm there, I've been there all my life... oh, WTF!, I was reading a poem.
Coming to its end is like waking from a wonderful dream; you wish you hadn't.
Beautiful! Wordsworth would be envious. I could go on, but I think you get my point.

[ellajam]

Vespertine At Rivernotch

In that moment when the fireball reflection
from the sunset behind us goes ppfffttt
the bats' ballroom buzzes as gnats rise,
dips and twirls just above our fingertips.
Barbecue smoke fades leaving honeysuckle
and wild clematis, vines brush our shoulders
and pull at strands of lake-loosed curls
as we lean our heads back and breathe
the still.

I'm there, I've been there all my life... oh, WTF!, I was reading a poem.
Coming to its end is like waking from a wonderful dream; you wish you hadn't.
Beautiful! Wordsworth would be envious. I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Wow, Ray, I just saw your comment. I'm so glad it worked. Thank you.

[rayheinrich]

Vespertine At Rivernotch

In that moment when the fireball reflection
from the sunset behind us goes ppfffttt
the bats' ballroom buzzes as gnats rise,
dips and twirls just above our fingertips.
Barbecue smoke fades leaving honeysuckle
and wild clematis, vines brush our shoulders
and pull at strands of lake-loosed curls
as we lean our heads back and breathe
the still.

I'm there, I've been there all my life... oh, WTF!, I was reading a poem.
Coming to its end is like waking from a wonderful dream; you wish you hadn't.
Beautiful! Wordsworth would be envious. I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Wow, Ray, I just saw your comment. I'm so glad it worked. Thank you.

I printed it out and pinned it up; I'm hoping people will think I wrote it.
But if they ask, I'll tell them the truth... if they ask.

[Keith]

Entering Entelechy

It was 2:00 am on wet Wednesday
I had just picked up a job card
and had reach precipitator 6B
apparently a damper
needed to be set free.

A two man job the foreman said
I was with Danny bow legs and his
Clarence dock walk.
You apprentices are all the same
rushing to go nowhere, he used to say.

As we knelt in the rain
on open steel grating,
belting hell out of the handle
with a four pound lump hammer
that had his initials stamped on it,
the night fell silent, clouds parted
my whole life lit up in moonlight
and mapped itself to that moment.

In thirty years I would be Danny
knees shot, nasty and twisted,
angry with what I had got.
Telling new kids to slow down
in fear of them bettering me.

The realisation was as cold
as the steel handrail I was holding,
I wanted to turn and run away.
Learn a trade son
someone will always give you work,
so I stayed.

But not for too long.