In and out

In and out
The waves go in and out
Licking the shore and reshuffling shells and stones
Rolling and crashing against one another
Doubts and a wrenched gut
Paranoia and sweat
A wave that comes in
But does not go out
A battle of rationality and emotion in the mind
Rolling and crashing against one another
In and out
You try to breathe in and out
Create the waves that move in rhythm
Waves that bring in the new
Waves that take away the old
In and out
In and out

Cartwheel – a cinquain

Because
When he smiles my
Insides do a cartwheel
Tumbling off the edge into skin
Shivers

Bones – a haiku

Don’t dig up old bones
They can become skeletons
You don’t want to see

Travel – a sijo

Breathtaking views, incredible stories, strangers to friends
In this vast world are new experiences at your fingertips
Everyone’s invited, gather round – say hello through a screen

I am late to the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) party, but here is a sijo for day 20.

Autumn Leaves

Source: theglamoroushousewife.com/2013/09/inspired-by-autumn/

“When we look and enjoy the colour of autumn leaves we are admiring death.”

“The way I see it, the vibrancy is a last defiant showing against the cold of winter, it represents a sacrifice from a sheer will to survive.”

I guess it all depends on how you look at it.

Awake (NaPoWriMo #26)

Photo by Katie Howell on etsy

In a velvet sky the moon sends down its silver glow
Upon the throne between dusk and dawn.
But the sparkle of stars are eaten by a fluorescent yellow,
Brash against midnight; the lights are still on.
On the main road, cars roll in rumbles low and deep.
Human eyelids held open by machines that never sleep.

Red numbers of a clock pierce through shadows to the brain,
Imprinted in half dreams floating between realities.
Furnace whispers are punctuated by distant whistles of a train,
And the fading wails of sirens rushing to their calamities.

In the big city, the night never comes.

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Started writing this one on a sleepless night. Sleep is always so much better in cottage country when you can’t see your hand in front of your face and it’s so quiet your ears start imagining the sound of air pressure. Technology has allowed humans to break the natural sleeping cycle and stay awake far beyond evolutionary bedtime. The prompt was for a shorter version of a classic form : the curtal sonnet. Hope you enjoyed.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

From the NaPoWriMo website:
The curtal sonnet is shorter than the normal, fourteen line sonnet. Instead it has a first stanza of six lines, followed by a second stanza of four, and then closes with a half-line. The form was invented in the 1800s by Gerard Manley Hopkins, who used it in his famous poem“Pied Beauty”.

Little Joey (NaPoWriMo #22)

Little Joey Jimble,
Lost his mother’s thimble.
His soldier was wearing it as a hat. 

Being a polite and sorry chap,
He found an acorn cap,
That fit to do the job, just like that.

—————————————-
My attempt at writing a nursery rhyme, as a poem for children. Growing up I loved reading Mother Goose, and still have songs in my head from an audio sing-along tape I listened to all the time. Sometimes they didn’t make much sense but the rhymes are charming and so are the names! And there’s something about thimbles that make them collectible, I never really use one, but the designs can be so creative. Acorn caps are very cute too, I mean look!

Found on nell-miniminis.blogspot.it

  Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

The Perk of Sardines (NaPoWriMo #1)

Yes I realize this is supposed to be mackerel, but the design is so cute! Posted by Deborah Upton Savedoff on Pinterest

From a hardy thermos to keep droopy eyelids from shutting,

Sips strong hot tea while moving to the back of the bus on feet dragging. Because

of last night’s agonizingly late crunch.

Piecing together a presentation the boss wanted this morning
Announced nonchalantly without the slightest warning –

life is hard. But 

there are grilled sardines for lunch.

*

The last two lines are from “Saudade” by Andrew Johnston as given to me by the Bibliomancy Oracle – a magical  generator of literary wisdom. I was feeling quite stressed out at the time, so this response made me smile. I’ve never actually eaten sardines, but I’m curious to try…

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

Seashell Wishes (NaPoWriMo #19)

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.

—————————————-
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

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