Tag Archives: 2014

Take a load off Annie

With his little wand
he worked his giant’s magic

First she was grateful
the she cried

Dear child
be safe

Feel like a giant within your own world
Feel free to be small in mine

Feel the liberating power of
you don’t have to do this

Feel huge satisfaction
you can do anything

Day 15 of OctPoWriMo. We’re halfway in the challenge, and the prompt was half way. This poem came up instead.

As if your life depended on it

The miller’s daughter looked confused.
“I’m sorry?”
“You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.”

She eyed the stranger conspicuously,
“I beg your pardon?”
She saw how he looked at her first-born.
“You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.”

She moved her body between him and the child.
“Have we met before?”
He moved so he could see the child again.
She noticed a streak of gold in his hair.
“You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.”

She sniffed the air.
“Please leave these premises immediately.”
It was the smell of warm sunny days.
It was the smell of impossible demands.
It was the smell of wonders against all odds.
“You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.”

She stared hard into his eyes
“Take me with you”.
He looked surprised.
She smiled.
She took her baby and packed her bags.
She handed him a book.

“Your name is Rumpelstiltskin
Please turn to the last page.
We will live happily ever after”

Day 14 of #OctPoWriMo. This poem is based on a these beautiful sentences by Adrienne Rich: You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.

We worship our mistress today

OctPoWriMo day 13 invited us to write about color. I ended up with a dark poem still.

We worship our mistress today

Welcome to pink sabbath!
We worship our mistress today
Carmine candles are burning
We gather around this heart shaped line
Sacrifices will be made

We will drown marshmallows in raspberry syrup
We will cut off My Little Pony tails
Hello Kitty will lose her head

We will burn candy cotton
We will chant bubble gum songs
Peppa pig will draw fuchsia blood

Barbie will be crucified
on a ballerina shaped cross
Cinderella will screech magenta murder

Welcome to pink sabbath!
We worship our mistress today
Carmine candles are burning
We gather around this heart shaped line
Sacrifices will be made

Human being

Human being
fallible life form
irrationally rational
emotionally flawed
messing itself up
with mindful consent

The prompt for OctPoWriMo day 12 was to write about desire. One of the word suggestions was lust. On the OctPoWriMo page I’ve shared the most lustful poem I’ve ever written. I try to publish a new one everyday for OctPoWriMo, so I’m adding this one for day 12. I guess this one is about the desire to be less human sometimes…

Get me out of here

He hurt me
My skin curled up
hardened
chain mail

He hurt me
My dropping saliva
thickened
venom

He hurt me
My tailbone lengthened
lashed
scythe

He hurt me
My stained teeth
sharpened
piercers

He won’t hurt you
my child
I have built
a protective wall

He won’t hurt you
my child
there’s a moat
filled with poison

He won’t hurt you
my child
I’ll make a lunge
if he approaches

He won’t hurt you
my child
I’ll have his head
on a stake

My dragon
tries to protect me
it does more harm
than it knows

My castle
tries to shield me
it imprisons
unintentionally

My untouched child
you are like sleeping beauty
I’ll need seven dwarfs
to get you out of here

Day 11 of OctPoWriMo. I’m not exactly using the prompt, which is about speaking up for children. This one is more about my inner child. When I wrote this, I kept thinking about the dragons that Nicola Wilson creates. You can find them on her Facebook page and a number on her website.

Not feeling good

Birds flying high
don’t know how I feel
The sun in the sky
won’t know how I feel

There’s no new dawn
no new day
no new life
for me

Empathy is a lie
you don’t know how I feel
Don’t even try
to know how I feel

There’s no new day
no new light
no new life
for me

Here’s the intro for the prompt for #OctPoWriMo day10: “Today is World Mental Health Day, first established in 1992 by the World Federation for Mental Health. It’s a day to raise awareness about mental health issues through education and advocacy. One in four adults and one in five children will experience mental illness this year. (Resource: NAMI)”
Thinking about the prompt, this beautiful Nina Simone Song turned into something bleak in my head….

Today’s prescription

three lunges—————————–be told
two planks——————————- what to do
five seconds —————————- to get better
times series —————————–reduce fatigue
stress reduction ———————–feel fit
neuro plasticity ————————cope

Tomorrow’s schedule
will be different
yet the same

outdoor activity ————————-helpful indeed
never mind the weather ————-my body is thankful
individual session ———————-someone finally got it moving
group session —————————-my mind is reassured
yanking ourselves———————- to get help
out of our misery ———————–and not struggle alone
by the hairs ——————————-yet I’m irritated
it’s between the ears ——————to the bone
what messes us up ———————full of resistance

Each day I’m exhausted
proud of making changes
fed up with the time it takes

writing poems —————————prescription followed
is an act of defiance ——————-check
protesting the void ———————escaped into creation
reclaiming imagination—————-check

The prompt for #OctPoWriMo day 9  is to write about why you are choosing to continue to write poetry now.

T a I b

This is a story about a car
a car that didn’t go far

It suffered from motion sickness
badly

Knackered today. Time for some silliness. Though I’m not a car, I suffer from motion sickness badly. When I’m tired I even have it when I drive… Luckily I’m Dutch and supposed to do as much as I can on a bike. Never had motion sickness on a bike 🙂 Day 8 of OctPoWriMo. The prompts are good, my brain is just not complying.

Birds sing louder without planes

f8cb7dc9ea0f3ad20e76f305f85cd9baa1ff836421d2254f90432cb8e22c520ad12de5f9424ddd2ae5e58e56f3d4805cAs I was sitting in the grass
struggling with existence
a plane flew by

It made me wonder
what I would experience
if I got on it
and extended my flight

If I could choose my experiences
what would I choose right now?

Too stand on top of a mountain
with hiking boots and mittens on?
To swim in salt water
surrounded by fish and reef?

To visit ruins and be amazed
by the skills of culture
and the strength of nature?

Another plane flew by
and another
My pants got wet from the grass

Would I choose to be soothed by nature?
Would I choose to be punished by culture?

I noticed people weren’t on the menu
Not even to talk about the meaning of life

Rock and stones
Water and warmth
Colours and shapes

When I looked around me I noticed
that all that was missing was rock –
I had warm soft moor beneath me

I took off my sandals and listened to the birds
Do you know they sing louder when there’s no plane passing by?

(Wilnis, 23-6-2014)

I read somewhere that on the seventh day you’re allowed to rest… Right? I found an old draft in my note book, one that I wrote as kind of a stream of conciousness thing. I was having a tough day that day and decided to sit still and be quiet for a while, and see what happened (almost like in today’s prompt). At the end of writing this I felt better. I realised I simply wanted to be where I was and nothing else. If I can find the pictures I’ll add them to the post.

Practice makes…

Perfect?
You wish…

Practice makes flawed
as any perfectionist knows
– only less flawed

Practice makes desperate
as any perfectionist knows –
like the horizon
perfection stays without reach

Practice makes tired
as any perfectionist knows
the effort
is never rewarded
with the desired result

Practice makes angry
as any perfectionist knows
we don’t want to practice
we want perfection
NOW
tomorrow doesn’t count

Practice makes sad
as any perfectionist knows
we try
and fail
try
and fail
try

(once more, with feeling)

This is the first time I followed the prompt for OctPoWriMo. The prompt was perfectionism, and the writer of the prompt loves math. She inspired me to increase the number of lines one by one – and end with an imperfect extra line 😉 Any emotion you can feel in this poem is purely fictional. Perfectionism? Me? Never heard of it…