The OctpoWriPo prompt today, Better Late than Never, gives us the opportunity for mockery. Sorry, Morgan.
Untimely warm and windy weather
discombobulated our host.
She forgot to do
what she should have done
and regretted it the most.
The rest of us forgave her
and rushed to enjoy the break
with fun and games to fill the gap
but now it is too late -
the prompt arrived at last
with hasty poems to make.
To walk between shadows of raindrops
requires agility, persistence, ability —
a crazy secret seer of spaces
where diamond drops don’t fall
and a strange shine enthrals.
Childhood tricks taught us
to avoid the cracks, prisoners of ritual,
placement of feet exact, with laughter
at the martyrdom of freedom
to walk at random.
Octpo Day 19 the prompt is Raindrops on my Windowpane, which fitted in well for me with the Wordle words, of which I failed to use only one.
Work that’s fun
and working at play
makes happy people.
Today’s Octpo prompt is for a found poem, but this has never appealed to me – my own words for better or worse – but I can’t miss a day of Octpo. However I like the short word lists that Morgan Dragonwillow gives us to set off a (short) train of thought: Creative, Fun, Playing, Adventurous, Frisky, Hopeful, Cheerful, Playful
Flamelike warning, wind on the way
From my bedroom window at 0815 today.
As I write, Bermuda is being battered by a category 2 hurricane, and there is another system winging its way towards Europe. This mesmeric site: Earthschool gives a dramatic visual of what’s going on.
for Cate’s Place
Pain, a poor companion
puts us on the wrong foot
punctuates each moment
pestiferous pills shape
philosophy goes phut.
a Pleiades poem for OctPoWriMo day 17, also for dVerse Meeting the Bar
The Pleiades is a poem of seven-lines, each of six syllables, where each line begins with the same letter as the one-word title. It is supposed to include a reference to a celestial body, but I couldn’t work that in!
I can’t say that this form grabs me (being a syllable-counting phobe) but faute de mieux…
image from Google
Once upon a roller coaster
don’t get off until it stops.
Once upon a downhill path
take your feet from the pedals
and enjoy the ride.
Once upon a good idea
grab it while it’s there.
Write it down before it goes
or your brain will forget it.
Once upon your heart’s desire
sweeten him with poetry.
tend him, love him,
live happily ever after.
for day 16 at
Mojo gone walkabout
halfway through OctPo,
which is more than I can say for me.
Me? Walk this wet and windy day?
I’ll just sit here and pretend.
As my physical horizons diminish,
so my need for open views expands,
the ache for space is not extinguished.
I thank God for the green farm lands
that surround and delight me.
This is for Margo Roby’s delightful prompt here
image by Julie Jordan Scott
from OctPoWriMo Day 14 where the prompt gives us a selection of quotations and pictures as inspiration.
You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it*
and make yourself cosy comfortable while you do
with room for books, the right light and chair
food for the mind and ease for the body
time to relax, to think and just be
and then the words will come.
images from Wikipedia
purple and yellow, orange and blue, red and green
contrasts to assault the eye,
with designs, quilts, paintings.
Nature’s tints, more subtle, yet
make harmony from the spectrum -
variants of green and blue, brown and gold
more restful to the eye,
shading from whitest white to blackest black
and everything in between.
Colour sets the mood and the rest is detail.
for Poetic Bloomings and OctPoWriMo
The lusts of the flesh were her undoing
desire to possess a chance-met fellow
enraptured by him
by the lotion of love
wanting to be cherished.
teased and tortured
scrambled her brains
just like strong liquor.
Ten long years she worshipped him
until the light of disillusion
cleared the fog of false emotion.
The machine changed gear
and stopped at Station Sanity
where she left the train.
The Sunday Whirl words set me off on this strange train of thought, but the OctPoWriMo prompt for today gave me more ammunition.
Saturday again? How quickly time passes
It doesn’t seem five minutes since I was writing my previous 6-w-s. We’ve had a mostly sunny week, with rain overnight. The tractor-trailer convoys have continued unabated, from before dawn to after dusk, spreading a thick layer of mud on every road. Our navy-blue car is completely khaki.
OctPoWriMo poem-a-day month had seen some frantic poeming. I’m mostly keeping mine short, as I am also studying a FutureLearn MOOC course about Hadrian’s Wall and playing far too much online Scrabble!
Today’s OctPo prompt asks how can we make the world better for children. A vast subject given the wars, terrorism, rebellion and crimes filling our newspapers and our minds.
Keep the peace
Protect the vulnerable
The Napo prompt today wants to know why we continue to write poetry every day, using phrases such as staying the course, keeping on keeping on, because… just because. To which I add cussedness, stickability. But I don’t really have any choice in the matter….
It arrived in my life uninvited, unsought.
Welcomed charily, it had come to stay.
I started warily. Could I really do this?
Little by little, it took me over,
emerged at inconvenient moments,
insistent, pushy, wouldn’t be denied.
A moment of first waking is exciting
to see what arrived while sleeping.
A walk is not a walk without the words
that come willy nilly to encapsulate the scene,
or the sounds or the scents.
My mind always busy absorbing happy phrases,
describing the indescribable, exploring meaning,
A new malady is added to the catalogue:
Obsessive Poetic Disorder.
Must I lie awake like this?
Or should I do something crazy?
Over-react to every issue
Never to resolve them.
A hot drink would help
Diminish my wakefulness
No. I think not.
Even now I have the urge
Sinister schemes seep in.
So easy to slip out and slay.
You can find other full moon reactions here
The Octpo prompt for today is to experience silence, then write in, and about, it. White Noise is a poem I wrote a few years ago when I was suffering from tinnitus.
I am dispossessed
of the gentle absence of sound.
sings to me,
whines at me,
roars round me,
buzzes for me,
hums in me,
irritates the hell out of me,
deprives me of sleep.
There is no more silence.
© Viv Blake 2011
Since then, my hearing has deteriorated and I now have two tiny hearing aids. An unexpected advantage is that they drown out the tinnitus. I can now hear conversation, birdsong, mumbled television dramas. The downside is that small sounds such as cleaning my teeth, putting the lid on the teapot, moving a chair, are magnified to an astonishing volume. Ah well, we can’t have everything! In the spirit of OctPoWriMo, I felt obliged to write a new poem. It needs work.