Tag Archives: napowrimo2014

Anacreon Voices – wine and love (NaPoWriMo #11)

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Photo by Fabio Sexio

Flavoured melodies roll down a sweeping red wine dress
Sprung from dense earth where the roots of grapevines rest –
Spill into the cup of love

Smooth melodies soar past light beams into the dark waiting air
Where words hang in sweet resonance, dripping honest wisdom there –
Fall into the cup of love

Layered melodies swell in cycles, flooding the chamber with solemn chords
Engulfed by sour aromas of night as they tell of the sacrifice of the Lord
Fill the cup of love

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Yesterday was our music show and last night we went to Tenebrae, a service of “darkness” led by a men’s choir in reflection of Easter. So much music in one day, and coincidentally also related to wine and love. It’s my own version of an Anacreon poem since the tone couldn’t be jovial and celebratory (I wasn’t feeling it!). Each stanza is inspired by different musical performances- my friends performed the duet “Dance Me To the End of Love” covered by “The Civil Wars,” I sang “The Greatest Love of All” by Whitney Houston, and the whole Tenebrae program consisted of beautifully gothic pieces in Latin. I wanted to post this last night but fell asleep writing the last bit.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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That Cardigan (NaPoWriMo #6)

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Firehouse Centre for the Arts in Newburyport, MA

That huge green cardigan he always wore
When we went to the grey rundown park, wiggling through tubes
With peeling red paint stuck to squeaky sneakers
Crossing eyes and fingers to the  soundtrack of laughter

That velvety cardigan draped over the shoulder
Carelessly swinging as he sang, adding kicks and swivels under the golden spotlight
Shining off a purple braid, because that was when he liked his hair long

And colourful.

That wiry green cardigan wrapped tightly as he sipped black coffee
(I always have mine with at least two creams and one sugar.)
By a big winter blue window, nodding to the white crash of cymbals
In the only cafe in town that played rock music because it made us feel alive

That cardigan slumped on the floor, under a blinking exit sign.
I picked it up as I left the stage door.
His name on a star still burning in my eyes.

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So this one kind of went on a whim. Instead of taking nouns, colours, and verbs from a look outside a window,
I jotted them down while at a rehearsal for our annual music show. And the words in the list just fell into place in this casual way. Recently, my father lost his uncle living on the other side of the globe, whom I have only met once (with little memory) and who he hasn’t seen in I suspect almost a decade. The character in the poem in no way resembles this man, but these thoughts must have lingered while I was writing. You realize how much we cherish memories when that is all we have left of a human being.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Busker of Disbelief (NaPoWrimo #5)

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John Sinclair Cigarettes. Trick Series 1916 .

If you are trying to focus on what he’s doing, don’t.
Hiding his hands under foolish grins like a donkey’s
Our eyes are the fools, only voice matches to ears.
A small tip to the hat, perhaps? To subtly suggest.
Passengers of a story are we,
Taken by flamboyant hands and cups to shake.
The illusionist rotates the power of our
Mind, into a weaving of his own.

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This is a golden shovel, which was Saturday’s prompt -yes I am late and yes I will catch up – based on Robert Frost’s poem, “A Fountain a Bottle a Donkey’s Ears and Some Books.” To be honest I do not quite understand what the line embedded in the poem (read every last word in each line)  means, but there was a certain whimsy to it that made it funny and mysterious. Just like a busker I recently saw performing, who made oranges and grapefruits appear from cups, and a twenty dollar bill from inside a lemon. I have always loved magic, it proves we cannot always trust our senses but also shows that humans love to be surprised and believe the impossible.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Lunacy (NaPoWriMo #4)

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Elliot Erwitt - Egypt, 1958

Heavy fluttering adrenaline
Searches for an empty space
In the dark.

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A title alike its name, this lune is an interpretation of anxiety, but is also inspired by the feelings I’ve had entering an audition. Excitement can be overwhelming and the first task is to find a vacant spot in the studio. Today we entered class chattering, to find a pitch black theatre, lit by a small table lamp sitting on the piano in the corner. The scene was both serene and sinister, and senses somehow both restricted and heightened, as we warmed up in hushed conversation and darkness. (Lights were turned on before we started dancing, thank goodness!)

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Sandman Charm (NaPoWriMo #3)

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A few drops of chamomile tea,
Two lavender buds, and sand from the sea,
Left on a spoon by the window
And small bottle under pillow

Calls the sprinkler of golden glitter
And to sweet dreams the heart will flitter

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At the school library today, I realized April has come again and that means Poetry Month! I have missed writing so much, with about 10 pages now of accumulated topic inspirations waiting in my notebook. Now time to catch up with my fellow NaPoWriMo-ers and bloggers!

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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