Fox on a Boat

Sitting On A Bench In The Park On A Sunny Day A book in my hand, I observed the geese Ambling over to me by the bench, Hissing. A row of pointed teeth. Sprays of water shooting  up Glittering drops falling on sensible ducks. They cut the water as they swim. A man sat on the bench next to me - in his hand a notebook. "Do you come here often?" he asks. I question my instinct. Ravens caw loudly above, a whole crew of them circling the area. Black against the yellow sun. I look like a foreigner, an artist. It is the man, he has said so. My metal badges clink as I retrieve a pen from my bag, my metal badges are my foreigner's label

Image from Pixabay - Free to use Day four of NaPoWriMo! I used the prompt today - at least I tried! My poem is probably not that mysterious... ;) Canvas City Past the train tracks Disused buildings in grey Used at dusk. Worn clothes as our uniform, dust mask, a bandanna in black. A clattering of containers and a click of lid removed Chase that grey away, art warriors of the night!

Oh, day three - I still feel so rusty from such a long absence - I realised I did not even participate in NaPo last year! I am not even sure why... In any case, today's poem is a serious flop. But I said I'd write a poem a day. I didn't say I'd write a good one every day..  Ceramic Painting As the sun shines hot and bright Music to my ears is the sound of ceramic tiles pushed into a scattered pile waiting for a colour treatment

Image from Pixabay (Free for commercial use) Day 2 - did not use the NaPoWriMo prompt, but was inspired by an image brought to mind after listening to a song. Short poem for today. 45 Electric crackle through the soul Dusty shafts in gloomy rooms The needle drops, commence the sound Whirring, purring, round and around.

Hello folks! It's April, which means one thing! POEMS!! I'm back for another edition of NaPoWriMo, and this year I am so going to get that poem a day! I'm starting things off with a short and sweet haibun , courtesy of yesterday's early bird prompt on the NaPoWriMo blog. A quick and simple poem to easy myself into the challenge. Day 1 - Haibun The sun peeps tentatively through the clouds, early morning teacup on the edge of the counter. Skin smelling of olives. The day bursts with promise, but off to work they go. Birds chirp at the breeze April around the corner Promise of freedom

The Boy Next Door Spiralling down the darker corners of the mind 7am, crying, no wailing, like an injured animal, The sound stops and starts like the humming of the fridge, who comes to a stop with a great thudding, trembling the walls - the walls, paper thin, seeping voices flutter to my ears like a black and white TV left on whilst the old man sleeps on the couch. I take a bath, to relax, to unwind, and the voices seep through, drowned out by Italian songs reverberating against the tiles, but I pause it, pause and listen - the shameful curiosity snapping awake, and there it comes, the wailing, and shouts, and then the muffled crashing of a mind at war. No prompt, just some thoughts that needed to come out, somehow.. I'm so behind.

Sad Haiku Sun came out today That will be excuse For lacking poems. No prompt, no nothing.. I'm a little dried up on ideas and it's only day eight! Hope to get back on track soon..

Stargazing in the Sahara Desert wind pushing hair strands We adjust our scarves, pull hoods, lie back, muscles stiff from the climb. Metres high with sand in our socks, Gaze at the tents, tiny below, Stare at the stars, tiny, above. -- Prompt from Imaginary Garden , also shared with NaPoWriMo. Feel free to link up your blog here

Days crawl, A trail of poured treacle. How many clouds have I seen pass By these windows I've opened and shut again— Count how many times—I've walked from door To bed, to window, to door - how many steps Taken in this temporary home, this land. How many months to make A citizen? -- Prompt:  Imaginary Garden's Flash 55 prompt . I'm using Sunday's prompt, but technically this is Friday's poem since I'm catching up. Feel free to link up your blog post here!

Time Passes, Stars Remain There was the Grande Ourse Recognisable by her Wagon shape, count three stars from the corner whilst the cold envelops you and you look so intensely your eyes almost make it to space. And at night, when all was quiet, you slipped out of bed. bare feet on the tiles, you skipped to the safety of the rug. Your brother's night light the way to freedom. With a blanket on your back, facing the heater, you read and read, engrossed in worlds unknown but still, still, one foot and ear firmly in the present, listening for trouble. Then there was the car, and the woods, and driving home at night with the radio playing soft songs of the past, and you, yes, the melancholic eight year old (perhaps a little too melancholic, maybe, a strange, grown up child) watching through the window, the stars, the night sky, that big expanse of unknown, enveloping the safe haven of the car. -- Combined the prompts from NaPo...

Prompt from NaPoWriMo : Write a poem of negation. Also shared with  Imaginary Garden . It does not softly Brush against your face as you sleep Ringing at dawn, warning "It's time to go to work!" No, it doesn't flutter slowly in the breeze Or supports your weight as you Laze in August's radiant heat - It doesn't cool you down. Rolling around on two or three wheels It does not do, no, it doesn't swim Gracefully in ponds or lakes, Doesn't soak up water like a towel. It will not keep your milk Cold and fresh, or store your cereal in airtight packaging. It does not function without electricity, It has yet to use wind energy. -- Click here to access the linky widget and add your link! Please comment on this post after adding a link. Thank you!