Tag Archives: feelings


I didn’t want to hurt your feelings
but now that I’ve done it
I truly don’t mind

Beginner’s luck –
a high score
without even trying

Yesterday’s prompt was to use the language of sports and games. You can probably tell that one was still lingering in my mind 🙂

Today’s prompt on napowrimo.net calls to use overheard conversation. She talked about how sweet he was is a poem that forever keeps the memory of a conversation I heard that irritated me endlessly. Reading back that poem, I remember where I was sitting, where she was sitting, and how she ignored the delicious looking dish she’d ordered.

Hopefully posting this will clear my mind to write about a new snipppet of overheard conversation. If so, I’ll probably post that tomorrow. For now, day 21 of #NaPoWriMo is done. I’ve been reading so much of the poetry that was posted this year that I feel my head is starting to overflow with words.

You won’t like it

If you were to scratch my skin, lightly
again and again
you could see rebuke shimmering through

If you were to take a needle
and pierce my hide
just once
a drop of remonstrance would well up

If you were to take a razor blade
and cut me, slowly
you’d encounter a stream of truth
crimson damnation

Please don’t make me bleed words

My mind won’t wrap itself around a clarihew, the prompt for NaPoWriMo day 14. I’m looking forward to reading other people’s clarihews – a four line poem that’s a satire of a famous person. I’m posting something serious instead.

Somehow it reminds me of one of the first poems I wrote, which happened to be for NaPoWriMo to, in 2013. It’s called unfinished business. It features words filling a bath.

Linking to some clarihews in case you’re in need of a smile:
Oscar Wilde, Marie Antoinette and Rasputin
Scarlett O’Hara
Sean Spicer and Jeffrey Dahmer
Sigmund Freud
John Coltrane
Sartre, Becket and Kafka
Darth Vader
King Richard Lionheart
Edgar Allen Poe
Thor, Zeus, Isis and more
Jesus and more

Added note April 16: I just remembered I did try a clerihew once. I ended up with something political instead of satirical: Permission denied


I want my life to be spiced with Patti Smith songs and shaped like my favourite Henry Moore sculpture
I want to be as bold as Courbet’s Origin of the world yet as understanding as a Townes van Zandt song

I want freedom to be non consistent
productive one moment, lazy another
wise many days, stupid some days

I struggle with being the best version of me
I struggle with accepting my flaws and limitations
I struggle with boldly sharing my brilliance
– even writing this sentence feels yuck

I don’t want a freaking manifesto!
I want the freedom to create my life with the ingredients the day brings
I want to be surprised by the possibilities and at ease at choosing
I want to take the fresh stuff and the stale stuff and make a choice for just that day
I want the freedom to create my life, every day, as it comes

To create from harmony and dischord
To create from opposites that don’t attract

Each morning is spring time, alive with what hasn’t been yet, attached to what has been for ages
There’s oxygen, there’s light, there’s warmth
I want to be that suckling lamb, wagging its tail
I want to be that tender leaf, breaking from its bud
I want to be the sun, warming up what’s called life

I want
I struggle
To create
I want to be

The prompt for #NaPoWrimo day 27 was to write a poem with long sentences. This one turned out to have a life of its own.

Image source https://www.henry-moore.org/images/o_lh556_af460_0_0.jpg

Clinical interview

napo2016button2Enters the doctor, looking like Daddy Cool.
Understanding look. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how do you feel?”
I don’t play his game. “Are we talking Aeolian, altered or augmented?”
Sotto voce: “Tests have been standardized so that test-takers are evaluated in a similar way”

I make him switch gender.
She raises her eyebrows: “Subatomic, cellular or human?”
I like her. “Classical Cepheids, D–σ relation or surface brightness fluctuations?”
She could be a sister. A brother. A mother to me. A soul mate. A saviour. A therapist.

I whist and eye her brain.
She yawns. “10 gigohm, I get it. The highest resistor code.
I might play your game. Do you feel mesa, micro or mega agitated?”
Lord Pascal strike me down. How many candelas per square metre can one woman be?

I pluck my eyebrow.
Me: “You’re searching for an order of magnitude?”
She: “Not just anyone can perform a psychological evaluation.”
Meanwhile, I’m wondering – on a scale of 1 to 10: How did I get here?

“Okay”, I say, “which decade?”
One raised eyebrow.
1 hertz

This poem was already in the making when I read today’s prompt: “Today I challenge you to write a “mix-and-match” poem in which you mingle fancy vocabulary with distinctly un-fancy words.” #NaPoWriMo day 24

This poem  started with the question “On a scale from 1 to 10…”, which made me wonder which scales exist. It turns out  many more than I know of, and I spent quite some (interesting) time on Wikipedia.

I’ve tried to capture some of the possible dynamics between interviewer and interviewee. The power play the interviewee tries to impose on the conversation. The clinical language/way of thinking versus the thoughts of someone in, well, a different mode.

There’s a lot more I could say about this one, but I believe poems should be read rather than explained. So if you want to know more, read it again and see what the next reading brings you 🙂

High hopes

napo2016button1Emotions – mixed
Opinions – fixed
Treatment – tried
Results – denied

Fight – fought
Winnings – nought

Struggle – go on
Faith – gone
Feelings – numbed
Me – stumped

Feelings – tried
The voices – lied

Emotions- fixed
Blessings – mixed

Struggle – gone
Happiness – rerun
Gremlins – stumped
Me – pumped

sunrise by uditha wickramanayaka





Day 22 of #NaPoWriMo. Written from the heart, before the prompt was up.

Picture of sunrise found on Flickr, by Uditha Wickramanayaka. I don’t know why I can’t link to his photostream, my computer is being weird. Here’s the license. I didn’t alter the photo.

Putting objects into algebra

napo2016button2TRUTH: row

HIM: Scientific display mode

ME: Alpha entry mode
Converting complex to real
Converting real to complex

HIM: Differential equation solver
Significant digits displayed

ME: Constant entering
Random redefining
Analytic functions
affect implied units

HIM: Counters loop structures
Counters negative steps
Debugging programs

ME: Immediate entry mode reverted
Arguments go on stack
Interpreting of immediate guesses HALT

ME: the wild card
HIM: the delimiter

HP 48G Users guide

I didn’t have a special dictionary (the day 17 prompt) so I used this instead. The only words not coming from the index are him, me, the and the. WordPress has messed with the lay-out, but I don’t know how to restore it.

I’m curious if anybody recognises this type of row?


Out of sight

Henry Moore Sculpture by Tolvakonu

I’ve heard rumours
that part of my heart
is living in South America now

I suspect it has gone underground
because it doesn’t recognise
the one who took it anymore

I hope it’s playing
with the part of you
you left behind

I think they are enjoying
each others company
like we used to

I know they’ll live
happily ever after
like I do

Never mind that Henry Moore’s Reclining Figure Nr. 5 is at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in Humlebaek, Denmark, and not in South America. I liked his sculptures and I love the picture. The space makes the sculpture so wild and free.

Today’s prompt for #NaPoWriMo looks really interesting, but this poem was waiting already. I’m still practicing more positive poems 🙂

You can find the source of the picture by tölvakonu by clicking on the link above. The license is https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/.


Ikea by Gerald StolkHe sat in IKEA
enjoying his coffee
It was free
The only coffee he could afford

He sat in IKEA
enjoying the company
It was free
The only company he could afford

He sat in IKEA
enjoying the silence

It was the only conversation he could afford

The image was found on https://www.flickr.com/photos/gerardstolk/ His work is beautiful, I recommend checking it out!

Happy ending

Everybody wants a happy ending
But it’s hard to do the work
To say yes, to say no
To say I do, to say I won’t

To look into a mirror and accept your shadow
To look at your shadow and accept your beauty

It’s hard to define your happy ending
and live happily ever after

OctPoWriMo day 27 had happy ending as a poetry prompt. Mine is slightly morose I’m afraid. After writing it. I had a happy ear worm. Thanks Joe Jackson!