Seashell Wishes (NaPoWriMo #19)

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Very pretty! Photo source: Ayse Balin on Pinterest

Said the snout otter clam to the shoulder blade sea cat,
How I wish I could swim like you.
I hear of great sunken treasures like the Lazarus jewel box but I’m stuck in this patch of the blue.

Said the shoulder blade sea cat to the sparse dove,
How I wish I could fly like you.
Above heavy bonnets and Peruvian hats, and by the glow of the incised moon too.

Said the white sparse dove to the striped engina,
How I wish I could race like you.
With a whistling strawberry top, and power to shatter the air, these Atlantic Turkey wings are overthrew.

Said the striped engina looking at a woody canoebubble,
How I wish I could float like you.
To aimlessly wander in unequal bittersweetness, and not deliver one more false cup-and-saucer or shoe.

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This prompt was to use seashell names in a poem, I’ve included the ones I’ve used in a list:
Peruvian Hat
Snout Otter Clam
Strawberry Top
Incised Moon
Sparse Dove
False Cup-and-Saucer
Striped Engina
Shoulderblade Sea Cat
Woody Canoebubble
Heavy Bonnet
Lazarus Jewel Box
Unequal Bittersweet
Atlantic Turkey Wing

It’s all quite nonsensical but fun, and the poem became a sort of whimsical narrative. Somehow it may have weaved its own moral as well, can’t quite define it though. What do you think?

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Ruba’i (Help me think of a better title? NaPoWriMo #18)

“Return of the Geese” as suggested by Steve:

The wobbly song of geese return behind slate grey clouds of an inland sea
Branches are fuzzy with halos of buds, except the brave green needles of the pine tree
Clicking coffee cups echo up the stairwell and reroasted lunch unmildens lazy air
The sun has yet come out to play, but paved roads exist now to reality.

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I honestly don’t know what to say except I’m sad Easter break is over. I couldn’t even come up with a title so if someone has a suggestion please let me know. I don’t know if I’m just unsatisfied to go back to school or dreading the hectic run to the end of the year, but mornings are so different when you know you have a full day to do whatever you want.

Reference from the NaPoWriMo website:
Today I challenge you to write a ruba’i. What’s that? Well, it’s a Persian form — multipe stanzas in the ruba’i form are a rubaiyat, as in The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Basically, a ruba’i is a four-line stanza, with a rhyme scheme of AABA.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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I Remember Those Big Family Parties (NaPoWriMo #17)

The cooking of spices steaming from rice and chicken
Grandmothers’ voices, one soft and one crisp, worn with wisdom and time,
And so doting.
Open arms for hugs and smiles for exchange
Sweet and salty fragrances mixed with the invisible care of hands rise from the tables
Similar voices embrace each other in song and laughter
When the family gets together.

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Around this time, I really miss our family halfway around the world. And family parties are the best – great food and great merriment. Our grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins… Nothing can replace the gatherings we have and the memories that stay so vivid in my mind. I really hope there is time and chance to visit them all soon.

This poem was supposed to describe something with at least three of the five senses. And what is more rich in senses than a party?

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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By Candlelight (NaPoWriMo #15)

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Photo source: miheekimkort.com

A crowd huddles by a small palm fire,
Passioned flame captured in high candle light,
Leads the way from billowed smoke of the pyre.

The stained glass loses colour with the night.
Stories spoken of the beginning of time,
Still bitten by cold, gloved hands clasp tight.

Flickerings against dark appear sublime
Glows passed by hand illuminate faces
Dispel disappointments of pre-spring rime.

In the quiet, wonder adorns the spaces,
Within doubts buried hope can be revived.
The miracle mystery in hearts race,

Reminds us the value of being alive.

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This was inspired by Easter Vigil and was supposed to be published yesterday, but the rhyme scheme proved trickier than expected. I love this mass because it provides a special time to reflect and be thankful. I truly believe the Catholic faith is about love, and I am reminded just how lucky I am to be around the people I am.

For reference from NaPoWriMo.net:
Terza rima - consists of three-line stanzas, with a “chained” rhyme scheme. The first stanza is ABA, the second is BCB, the third is CDC, and so on. No particular meter is necessary, but English poets have tended to default to iambic pentameter (iambic pentameter is like the Microsoft Windows of English poetry). One common way of ending a terza rima poem is with a single line standing on its own, rhyming with the middle line of the preceding three-line stanza.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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An Easter Basket of Lies (NaPoWriMo #16)

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Photo source: victoriaexplorer.com/events/easter_egg_hunts_in_Victoria_2014

It is the cause of the biggest shopping spree of the year in our family.

We buy lots of food, especially chocolate in the shapes of bunnies and other cute animals.

We have a long standing ritual of dying a rainbow of eggs in our family.

We put them in a basket in the backyard so the animals can have a spring treat.

With hundreds, almost thousands, of chocolate eggs and chick marshmallows, we set up the ultimate egg hunt for our family.

There’s so many, often we find more candy, forgotten ones, the winners of hide and seek from last year.

There’s a giant party – we exchange gifts and have a feast – it’s like a second Christmas in our family.

And we put on brand new fancy clothes for a street parade because why not, everyone knows it’s a holiday.

But we don’t go to church.

Because we don’t really celebrate Easter in our family.

How can a man rise from the dead?

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From the NaPoWriMo website: “write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. Your lies could be silly, complicated, tricky, or obvious.”

So this is all a lie. Our family loves Easter, it is a special time for reflection and celebration. But we do not follow what is “traditional” to do around this time – not all of that stuff that I’m sorry to say has commercialized this holiday. But anyway, in spite of the little harsh ending of the poem, I wish everyone a very happy Easter and that you enjoy this time with everyone you love.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Halibut or Haddock? (NaPoWriMo #14)

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From Buster's Sea Cove! Photo via Cupcake Queen on Pinterest

A conversation over the counter:

-Your order?
-Is there a special?
-Do you like crab?
-Is it from the Pacific?
-No, but how about traditional fish and chips?
-Can I have salad instead of fries?
-Halibut or Cod?
-Do you have Haddock today?
-Sorry, it’s very loud, Haddock as in the captain in Tintin?
-Yes please, two, but they won’t come out burnt like that one?
-Oh, you don’t like black olives and fried onions on your fish?
-Can you please put the toppings on the side?
-Any drinks?
-No thank you, but any napkins?
-It comes in the box, is that ok?
-How long will I have to wait?
-Will you listen for the number 29?
-I must first get fresh air; however do you survive behind those hot stoves?
-It is rather claustrophobic in here, isn’t it?

-Thank you, it was very delicious.

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From the NaPoWriMo website: The idea is to write a poem in which every sentence, except for the last one, is in the form of a question.

Went to our favourite fish joint today where the line up stretches around the block for hours before and after noon. Five chefs dish up steaks, sandwiches, ans seafood pasta as quickly as orders come in, from a horde of hungry strangers eagerly awaiting their first bite. The customer came out pretentious at first, and it is tricky to write conversation strictly in questions. It is so busy we would never have the chance to speak to the chef, so I’m paying compliments here.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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A Glimpse into Elder School (NaPoWriMo #13)

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Mozsna Castle, Poland. Plenty of buildings of this kind in the campus I visited. Photo source: Alex_B_Melon on Flickr.

Detachable turtle shells on their backs
Vision darkeners on eyes
Singing matchboxes in ears
They venture into castles of great size
Full of great hopes and great fears

The blinding lamp shines down from the sky
Earth’s green hair greets shoes
With toothpick heels and patterned stamps
In paper caverns they search for clues
Into winding stairs and glass ramps

Determined and satisfied with word parcels in stack
They play fortuneteller to themselves for the years that will pass by

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So I took a campus tour of a university I was accepted into, and I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was, like its own world within the city. It is around exam finals and everywhere were focused faces – in the park, the library, the lounges, the hallways. Somehow it made it both easier and harder to imagine studying there for four whole years.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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