Tip tap tippity drip drop Tinny splattering on the car top Flattened discs merging into one another Erased by squeaking wipers as my father Splashes through sneaky pothole puddles Landing where earth and sidewalk muddle Soaked, budding florets dance and sway While we try to stay dry on a rainy day
In the centre of action at any establishment Explosive spontaneity and loud excitement Hurrahs and congrats, collective laughter sings In this moment, she feels a sense of belonging
Near the edge of the crowd, hearing blurred conversation Sipping drinks in company, without need for recognition Exchanged smiles, silent interactions, gently observing In this moment, she feels a sense of belonging
Surrounded with attention Recluse yet with affection From the inside projecting outwards From the outside looking inwards What for one brings joy, the other annoys “I feel bad for her, she’s so alone and separated.” “All that noise and fakeness is so overrated.”
My poem fro NaPoWriMo day 27. The prompt was to take inspiration from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and here is the word that I chose:
v. intr. feeling the tranquil pleasure of being near a gathering but not quite in it—hovering on the perimeter of a campfire, chatting outside a party while others dance inside, resting your head in the backseat of a car listening to your friends chatting up front—feeling blissfully invisible yet still fully included, safe in the knowledge that everyone is together and everyone is okay, with all the thrill of being there without the burden of having to be.
I honestly thought this definition was so poetic in itself so took the idea of “midding” as an explanation for why it might be nice to enjoy quieter, less public spaces within a gathering and made it a point for comparison to what is generally seen as the typical way one enjoys a party. Extravert or introvert, which one are you?
Hello, my dear, you’ve come a long way. What a wild ride it’s been, eh? Looking back it must feel funny – joy, love, achievements, money – Things I seek now, did it matter – to make our life better? Memories created, which one is your favourite? Sorry for the questions, I have inhibitions… Do you believe something exists after death? I hope I didn’t leave you with regrets. That was the fear, to waste away years. Experiencing chaos, noises – Would you change any choices? Listen to more voices? I hope you are proud. Fears are allowed. It’s alright, Just say Hi.
A poem for NaPoWriMo day 25. The prompt was to write a poem for a particular occasion and one that came to mind was a last conversation with my future old self. There would be so many emotions, questions, and stories to talk about – yet time would be running out, so I wanted to reflect those limits and urgency in the “countdown” structure of syllables per line. It turned out more morbid than I anticipated, but so writing goes.
Despite their cuddly appearance, toddlers – Are among North America’s toughest. Their trails of chaos survive the alpine terrain, Windswept no-man’s land above tree line. Small, with short stout bodies, Big round ears, and no visible tail, With earth-toned colouration They easily camouflage among the rocks. American toddlers have adapted to exploring Very inconspicuous environments. Hidden, they collect grasses, weeds, And tall wildflowers in the sun’s heat. The American toddler can recognize Members of their colony. In a high pitched and squeaky call, they gurgle away their position, Alerting frantic searchers of their presence, To their parents’ relief.
The prompt for day 24 of NaPoWriMo was:
Find a factual article about an animal. A Wikipedia article or something from National Geographic would do nicely – just make sure it repeats the name of the animal a lot. Now, go back through the text and replace the name of the animal with something else – it could be something very abstract, like “sadness” or “my heart,” or something more concrete, like “the streetlight outside my window that won’t stop blinking.” You should wind up with some very funny and even touching combinations, which you can then rearrange and edit into a poem.
I have taken inspiration from a former biology professor who taught us about pikas and their remarkable abilities and behaviour. I took excerpts from the article titled “American Pika” from The National Wildlife Federation as the starting point for today’s prompt.
Without water one cannot swim Without competitors one cannot win Without secrets one cannot lie Without breath one cannot die Without a king one cannot checkmate Without words thoughts cannot precipitate Without will there is no action Without want there is no attraction Without gravity one cannot fall Except in love