Take the pencil (NaPoWriMo #20)

(From quotesnsayings.net)

Like a cyclops wearing an eye patch, we’ve never been able since our birth
To know what has been printed on life’s next chapter
Like a pig snuffling truffle treasure buried deep under the earth
Detectives searching for clues hinting a happily-ever-after

Like a grain of salt in a spoon of sugar, how every choice will affect
Our daily cup of tea or coffee, is an elusive mystery until
The present is a ghost, we watch curled up on the couch to reconnect
Reading the miraculous events recorded from our will

Like holes in swiss cheese, what makes or breaks an ego
Can be answered twice by what we do or what we don’t
Identity as fluid as seaweed in waves, hidden in the gutter – no.
Wait anxiously for the turn of each page? I won’t.

I will be the generator of my own word.
And my story will be heard.

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Life is too short for waiting so take that pencil and write! Fill the blank pages with the future you’ve always dreamed about, because you are the only author of your personal book of life.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Lady Anonymous (NaPoWriMo #19)

City woman unafraid to stroll the night alone
Apple nibbler to the core who swears by her Burberry trenchcoat
Looking for someone who can make a nice cup of coffee every morning
Lover of the French Polynesia, Chopin, slippers.
Oh, and red lipstick.

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Something out of the blender of randomness today. This character just appeared when I saw today’s prompt for a personal ad. I wanted to do something witty but I just couldn’t conjure up good humour at the moment.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

A High of Twenty-Two (NaPoWriMo #18)

What I felt like as I stepped out into unexpectedly gorgeous spring weather.

Today

was a thunderstorm with a high of twenty-two.
Stretching in a studio anticipating
the song of raindrops to slide down glass walls.

They were right about the high of twenty-two,
But yellow light streamed inside instead,
Too bright we reluctantly put down the blinds.

In a building you can’t feel a high of twenty-two,
A little walk to the store to buy pairs of pointe shoes
For rehearsals that stretch further than sunshine.

At day’s end hoped it’d still be a dry, high of twenty-two,
Sigh of relief stepping out into fresh air
Body had been programmed to seize up for winter’s chill.

Skin finally sees the sun again, in a high of twenty-two,
Cool breezes aerate fibres of clothing
While the clouds are patiently waiting.

Thank you Mr. Weatherman for reporting the good news,
But it’s nature who let us have a  a high of twenty-two

Today.

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Spring weather makes me so excited for summer and spending time outside. April showers bring May flowers, so pour on, rains of Toronto, because I can’t wait to see green on the trees like the grass. It looks like we’ll be rotating around our seasonal wardrobes very soon…

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Hello (NapoWriMo #17)

The only person you should try to be better than… is the person you were yesterday.

I am ecstatic you have returned again
My inspiration, my friend.
Maybe you can dispel this cloud of fear,
Would you like a cup of tea, my dear?

There is a person in each person’s life
Strong in joy, and grief, and strife
Determined and free-spirited in every respect
How can anyone be that close to perfect?

A person that everyone can look up to
I want to grow and become more like you
Work will let this dream be
Then I finally see
That I am you. And that person is me.

As Whitney says, “Learning to love yourself, that is the greatest love of all.”

And in one of my favourite quotes from the movie Wreck-it-Ralph, Bad-Anon’s motto: “I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Nonsense Icelandic (NapoWriMo #16)

A Less Than Amateur Translation of SKAGAFJÖRÐUR by Gerður Kristný

Its reign a very
alluring vile birth
so that a hero in livid mittens
beggar paired at Kemer
million cokes often I grace
an affluent minuet
of fairy mail luging I’m
fingerless corner
but shelf around gum or gruel

Summit at each effort how
bake bar after
as hymncry hustles continue

alto skulls part alms and of Jazzybarns/Jesusborn

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Original text:
Ég reyni að vera
alúðleg við börnin
svo þau hirði um leiðið mitt
þegar þar að kemur
mylji köku ofan í grasið
á afmælinu mínu
og fari með ljóðið um
fingruðu kýrnar
þá sjálf orðin gömul og grá

Samt á ég eftir að
þekkja þau aftur
á himneskri húsalyktinni

alltaf skulu þau ilma eins og Jesúbarnið

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Actual English Translation:
I try to be
kind to the children
so they’ll tend my grave
when the time comes
crumble biscuits in the grass
on my birthday
and recite the poem about
the gambolling cows
themselves grown old and grey

All the same I will
know them again
by the heavenly smell of the stable

may they always be fragrant as the Jesus child

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This challenge is a lot harder than it looks! I chose a language very different from English and the ones that I understand to really play the guessing game and see how much contrast would be made. It is quite a beautiful poem and makes we wonder about what other works I have missed from the limited exposure we have to world culture. And to be honest, I have no idea what I just wrote.Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Frolicking in Downtown TO: A Pantoum (NaPoWriMo #15)

Cool circular shot of Dundas Square.
Source: http://imgfave.com/view/22260

A cluster frolics the streets, wandering but fast
Fun to have, stomachs to fill, memories to make
Long hours rewarded and in the past at last.
It was the best chocolate banana milkshake.

Wind collects – lights, sounds, smells – as it circles the square
Pass the man drumming rhythms on buckets and tins,
Through the lively city we walk without a care.
Seems where the weekend ends I want it to begin.

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So here’s a poem that is a pantun and about a walk (sort of). I tried ‘killing two birds with one stone’ as they say for missing the prompt on Day 13. Last weekend our whole class went for dinner at Mr. Greenjeans. With the busy and long schedules, we don’t hesitate when there is a chance to have an evening out, and we had a good time being outside in the streets of Toronto, even when it began it rain. It’s moments like these that make me so eager to have the school year finish so we can have the freedom of summer.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Tired (NaPoWriMo #14)

Image courtesy of Flickr, chriswaits

Droopy eyelids
Slip from mental glue
And sink into a thick soup
Of slumber.

It’s been another tiring day. The past two entries for NaPoWriMo have been minimalist, I really hope to get back to full posts this week (and that this pug made up for my dull poem today).

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Bittersweet Nostalgia (NaPoWriMo #12)

At a best friend’s cottage.

I miss you.
But I don’t know
If it’s you,
Or the you I knew years, or even months, before.
You’ve changed.
Or maybe I’ve changed.
Or both of us have since taking our own risks and choices.
We said we’d keep in touch, but did we?
Every time I see you
A flood of memories flash before my eyes
And then I’m not sure if I’m really seeing you
And I wonder if you get this confused vision too.
Time has a funny way of dividing reality and memory.
Conversations, jokes, games, plain old sitting at the table,
I remember.
I know you do too,
Because best friends don’t forget that stuff.
Time moves on but we talk of past moments,
Precious but irrelevant to the stories we each write now.
Time has a funny way of dividing people sometimes.
I can see my nostalgic sadness reflected in your eyes.
And somehow our goodbyes
Are never-ending.
Because forever can last forever in your mind.
Until we meet again,
I just wanted to say that
I miss you.

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”
-Helen Keller

*UPDATE: A few weeks after writing this post, I ran into my friend at a ballet awards show. It was a thrilling surprise and we got caught up for a few good hours. Funny how life can offer you the best coincidences… *

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

A Tanka (NaPoWriMo #11)

Striking photo of a frozen statue by Miika Järvinen

Sleet drops in buckets
I forgot my umbrella
Must I go outside?
A hooded man sits content
On the street sipping hot tea

“Someone else is happy with less than what you have.” -Unknown

(More than one third of the way there!)

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

My Dear Frenemy: An Un-love Poem (NaPoWriMo #10)

If you were a tomato,
You’d be the first ammunition I fling
To splat onto the stage of a terrible show
If we lived centuries ago.

Like an itch I can’t supress,
You’re like a remnant plastic fastener that clings
Even after the tag has been cut and removed
Pricking the skin from the back of a dress.

Heads turn at the sounds of your glee
Because guffaws shriek like a fire alarm drill.
Forcefully foolish or brainy at will –
Put on a character, why don’t you,
If you’re looking for the answer to that math problem,
Don’t ask me.

Actually, you’re the dilemna no one can, or wants to figure out
Like a tangled mess of computer wires
Or a bunch of socks with no twins
So lost, even you probably don’t know what you’re about

Looks and comments from mild to vile
Searching for bubbles to pop,
Pierced by a vain glare with an intention to look model fierce,
I respond with the one thing that brings your game to a stop:
A smile.

“Always forgive your enemies, nothing annoys them so much.”
– Oscar Wilde

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead