Period

My heart bleeds
It sheds tissue

No one came to live there

My heart bleeds
Period

Keeping it simple today. Off prompt for #NaPoWriMo day 28.

Poem and painting by Angela van Son

Off the road

Don’t know where I am going
Don’t know where I have been
I’m on a road to nowhere
No destination to be seen

Don’t see a speed sign when there is one
Don’t know how to slow down
I’ve been on the road to nowhere
From the day I left our town

When I wake up in the morning
I get myself a beer
I know the future is uncertain
But the end cannot be near
I’m on a road to nowhere
living in high gear

I know what I am knowing
I can’t say what I have seen
It make me take this road to nowhere
I’m not who I have been

Here on this dark desert highway
If I ever see a shimmering light
and I smell the smell of colitas
I will stop for the night

If they dance in the courtyard,
then – and only then
I will stay off off this road to nowhere
And I’ll never get back again

 

 

 

 

Big

I watched
the future
and a parallel universe
collide
they went
bang

Homo militus

If looks could kill
the’d be banned in my country
we’d throw all eyes overboard
and learn how to see without them

If pigs could fly
they’d be exploited in my country
we’d put saddles on their backs
and turn them into private airlines

If fly looks could kill
they’d be exported by my country
we’d protect our own
and make money of yours

If pigs could salute the flag
would they fly
kill
or make money?

The enemy within

The enemy within
strikes one
a homerun

I take a mirror
to strike back

The enemy within
hits home

I smash the mirror
and paint a self portrait
of my brain
bleeding

The prompt at napowrimo.net was to write a poem that engages with one of the other arts. I’m away all day, but found this one. Not in my notebook this time, but in my wallet, written on a receipt.

Face up

I blushed
when I read
the tattoo on his face

It said

If you’re reading this
you’re not reading me
get outta my f

Day 20. The prompt at napowrimo.net was to use spoken language.

I was late in posting yesterday, because I was working on something special: a collaboration with Shuku, a fellow participant. I’d love for you to check it out!

The hunger lounge

The preparations are finished I think

There’s a sofa on the left
where the coffee goes
(there’s room for cappuccinos, espressos, lattes and americanos)

A sofa on the right
where the sugar goes
(cake, cookies, chocolate, candy – we call it the C-section)

A sofa in the middle
with a ‘grease’ tag
(that’s where the crisps sit, the fried food, the melted butter)

There’s more:
a recliner for alcohol
a stool for nuts
on the sides you’ll find
a closet for compliments
and drawers for connections

The hunger lounge has everything
– everything but guests;
no matter what I ingest
it remains empty

I’m aching for a party
but there’s no one there

Today’s prompt at napowrimo.net was introduced with this sentence: “Our optional prompt for the day takes its cue from how poetry can help us to make concrete the wild abstraction of a feeling like grief.”

Me, the people

They think buildings can’t read, but I read the signs of the times better than they do

I watched his hungry eyes read my letters and the reply, written on his face
It said “I want you”, and he wanted it all: my power, my people, my standing, my history
Somehow he knew I could change the future
He rejoiced when I burnt down but I didn’t mind – I knew he was doomed
I could read the signs even before his hidden hand started shaking

Did you know I had babies ? I didn’t deliver them but they were mine for a while
I knew I’d be theirs in the future, just as they were mine now

They think buildings can’t read, but I read the signs of the times better than they do
When my mother was torn apart, I didn’t worry, I knew she would heal
When I lay in ruins I didn’t worry, I knew she’d help me recover

They think buildings can’t read, but I read the signs of the times better than they did
Now here I stand, unwrapped, offering a 360-degree view to those who register
I can still change the future, but you don’t read the signs

Today’s prompt at napowrimo.net was “to write a poem that similarly presents a scene from an unusual point of view”. As a former historian, I wondered if there was something historic I wanted to write about. Human history provided slightly too muc choice… I narrowed it down by chosing a topic I’ve used before, but from a different perspective.

First we take Berlin describes the fire in the German Reichstag building from the perspective of the arsonist – but I didn’t choose the Dutch communist who was accused of doing it. Today I decided to use the perspective of the building as a starting point.

I’m late in posting today. I happily blame the fact my day 16 poem was the featured poem today at my favourite #NaPoWriMo website! I celebrated by reading and commenting a lot – one of the great things about poetry month for me is always the connections we form by sharing our words with each other. Thank you all for reading, and thank you all for writing!

Plans for tonight

1) To be abducted by aliens
2) To invent a wireless power bank for people
3) To spill all the bitterness I’ve bottled up from past lives
4) To kick in a double glazed window
5) To pretend I don’t think
6) To double kick in a glazed window
7) To spill all the bottles of bitter I have from past lives
8) To invent a powerless wire bank for people
9) To abduct an alien
10) To make plans for tonight

The prompt at napowrimo.net: Today, I challenge you to write a poem that uses the form of a list to defamiliarize the mundane.

Aesthetic surgery

I set my words free
even when my thoughts
stay bound

No panty liners needed
for saturated vowels
no tweezers to pluck
unwanted words
from my tongue

No moisturiser needed
for my vocabulary
to keep its elasticity
my spelling needs no serum
to keep from crows feet

I set my words free
while my thoughts
unwind

I will not shave
my choice of words
for elegance’s sake
or try to hide them
with concealer

I’ll never exfoliate archaic language
nor use make up
on made up
words

I set my words free
my thoughts
relax

I don’t know what’s up with me and split up poems at the moment. They just happen. This was the prompt at napowrimo.net: “the idea of a poem as a sort of tiny play, which can be performed dramatically.”

I guess many of my poems work like that already, so at first I wasn’t inspired by the prompt. Only when Shuku and I talked about writing a poem together, the energy started to flow. I’ve never done a collaboration before so I won’t promise we’ll get it done today. I’d love for us to enjoy our writing together, and we might need some time and space for that.

We might have a suitable illustration already, even before it’s written. Shuku owns one of my drawings. I think that’s really special.