Transition

Today’s poem for NaPoWriMo.

Glad

For today’s NaPoWriMo, I tried out the Chaucerian Stanza, which is a stanza of seven Iambic Pentametre lines. In this stanza the first line rhymes with the third, the second with the fourth and fifth, and the last two lines rhyme together, thus forming a couplet. Also called Rhyme royal, rhyme also spelled rime, in short, it is a seven-line iambic pentameter stanza rhyming ababbcc.

Risen

Today’s poem for NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo 26 – Kennings

For day 26, some kennings. Bjorn at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads presented the concept of Kennings. Or compound noun combinations.

My impromptu attempt 🙂

~~~

A leaf-fall. A leaf

falls on to the forest floor.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A heart-knock. Someone

knocks on my heart boarded up.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A tune-lilt. Lilting

tunes slowly take me apart.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A death-wish. Dying

to the past my only wish.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 25 – Silence

For NaPoWriMo day 25, a question

SILENCE – haiku

Silence always taunts
me with this one question,
what are you doing here?

~~~

NaPoWriMo 24 – Caves

For NaPoWriMo day 24, a confession –

CAVES  – haiku

I found there are caves
in my heart I didn’t know about.
There be demons.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 22 – Homecoming

For NaPoWriMo 22, a poem celebrating Earth Day.

Homecoming – tanka

It is always  pure
pleasure. Walking on grass, leaves,
the bare-bodied earth.

As though my body-soul knows
it has come home to Mother.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 11 – You

For day 11, love talk.

 

You – tanka

The moon it seemed had

lit up the wings of the wind

pale ebullience

but my soul knows it is You.

Everywhere I go it’s You.

***

NaPoWriMo 9 – A fragment of a dream

For day 9, a sweet, sad poem on a dream I saw the other day –

 

A terse dream this was,
broken, anguished, blurred,
of which a fragment remains
in my memory, embedded.

A wayward bullet strikes
at lightning speed your chest,
passing through it spears,
calmly, through my breast.

Locked in a gaze we stand,
as love flows out the wounds.
Caught tight in death’s hand
as the dream softly fades.

On waking, for long I ponder;
did our souls our bodies flee
at the same moment, together?
Did they merge to become free?

Did pain set our insides afire?
Is sorrow the bullet that incinerates,
torching our ignorance, our desire,
and into freedom thus liberates?

~~~

NaPoWriMo 8 – My second skin

For Day 8, an ode to my house.

MY SECOND SKIN

My house bathed in moonlight, rests,
silent and welcoming,
and I breathe love into its spaces.

It seems a reflection of me,
the way the furniture is arranged,
the chairs facing each other.

Do they talk among themselves, I wonder,
in the stillness of the night,
picking up bits of broken-off conversation?

Does the warm air twirling up the stairs,
or the slippers, discarded, under the bed,
remind it of us, when we are away.

Do the walls rejoice with the tinkle of laughter,
does the carpet hoard shards
of my shattered dreams.

Does it feel protective, caring,
shielding us from wind and rain,
silent witness to silent pain.

Content, replete, joyous,
I settle into its calm stillness,
and it wraps itself around me.

~~~