April 2018 - The Wabi-Sabi Writer

Monday, April 30, 2018

NaPoWriMo 2018 - The End
April 30, 20181 Comments




has reached its end

The muse, spent, will be taking in the waters
in hopes of restoration and recovery

Thank you for joining me
on this ruthless adventure

Long Live the Writers!!


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ZYZZYVA at ZZYZX
April 30, 20181 Comments




The muse 
looks
written hard
and put away
wet
as
she
meanders
through the eleventh hour
desert
in search
of a last word
to quench her
tantalus
thirst

and finds it
at the bottom 
of a bottle of bathtub gin

the last fucking word
in the last fucking place on earth




NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 30
Based on the prompt write a poem that engages with a strange and fascinating fact

Zyzzyva, a genus of South African weevils found on or near palm trees, is the newest last word you'll find in the Oxford English Dictionary.

ZZYZX The last place on Earth. It was originally founded by a crazy old man who named it ZZYZX since it would be the last word in the dictionary and hence "the last place on Earth". Currently it's an abandoned town somewhere Between Las Vegas and LA



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Sunday, April 29, 2018

Quick Dip

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Payback Postcard
April 28, 2018 2 Comments




Dear Bleep,

I hope you are well and enjoying all the wonderful holiday gifts that mother gave you.  I am sure that the fur coat is keeping you warm this winter.  You were always her favorite.  
This pastel plastic pen she gave me is working out rather well to write a postcard. But truly, the Western Union wire was far more useful.  So I as I scribble this note to you under the shadow of Big Ben I simply must ask -

How do you like your watch?

Love Always,

Iffy





NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 28
Based on the prompt to write a poem like a postcard 
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Friday, April 27, 2018

Eight of Cups
April 27, 20181 Comments



Startled awake
by
shattering glass
and big ben alarm clocks

getting my bearings
in the snapchat 
bedroom
my feet
bare
and
cracked
land
on a cold dusty floor
littered
with 
instagram filters
and
gimcrack beliefs

Was
I was sleeping
through
life
?

This corpulent duffle 
of daydream
drags
me
down
deep
Alkmaar
grooved
on
my shoulders

I long
like
Atlas
to shrug

it
off


I slide the straps back
and let it fall
to yesterday's
floor

Freed from that peaty wasteland

I
find
my
path





NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 27
Based on the prompt to write a poem inspired by a random tarot card

EIGHT OF CUPS

Deeper Meaning
Moving On
Weariness





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Thursday, April 26, 2018

Periapt
April 26, 20181 Comments




There you are

Perched
like a cat
readying to rock
haunch
and 
launch

I am 
your willful prey
Yet I am the one who catches
 your gilded rough
edges
in my sight
these edges long to know my depths
your face gleams glossy
in the errant beams
of a late afternoon sun
yet the long shadows of your autumn
belies your gamin ways

How I long
to hear
the stretching crack
when 
I
break
your
spine

So 
supple 
rendered
docile
to
my
demands

You spread before me
your
ivory 
lined
with 
faint
beryl
 veins

urging me
to please

leave 
my 
mark
between

Too much
all too much
I am overcome 
torn jagged
by desire and hesitation

I bury
my face
deep in you
and breathe in
all your
 dank cellar corners
and
musty hope chests

I am undone
and made
whole
by
you

again
and
again

the
words
stream
down
my cheeks
in
salty
rivers
of 
ink

my
tears
taste
like
paper



NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 26
Based on the prompt to write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses



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Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Spangle

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Taarna
April 24, 20180 Comments






Fierce
femme
fatale
enrobed 
in candy coated cobalt

Strong
stiff
responsive
to your 
thighs
wishes

She climbed 
steep twisting peaks
slowly
grinding
to reach
the glorious
summit
oh
And how
 she goes 
down

Enough to make you 
scream
and 
tighten your grip
if you can get one

listen

the wind
whispers her name


she
is
both
beast
and
beauty










NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 24
Based on the prompt to write an elegy that has a hopefulness to it
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Monday, April 23, 2018

Sidewalk Jelly-bean
April 23, 20180 Comments





Curled up
on the corner
of the daily grind
and the mean streets
lay a man
and
his dog

So many
walk past
without looking
without caring
or perhaps like me 
so many days before
too tangled up
in our nest of needfuls
forever lost
 in a 5x3 
sapphire
glass
house

Until I stopped
to
see
his torn 
cardboard sign
"Blankets please"
leaned up against 
him
and
his dog

"What is your dog's name?' I ask dropping bill into the cup

"Jelly bean" he replied looking up at me, his deep blue eyes
meeting mine.  

"I am Jenny"

"Garret" - The amber haired young man said with a bright smile.  Jelly bean snarled with one snaggletooth my way "He is a bit protective" 

I smile back and say I will bring a blanket tomorrow

As I leave I think how another time, another place, another life
we could have met at a happy hour, sipping liquor and slipping numbers and notions to one another

Garret and Jelly Bean
Curl up
on the corner
beneath a burgundy blanket
I bought 
and
I walk back
through the door
of my ordinary life




NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 23




Jelly-Bean - In United States slang during the 1910s and early 1920s, a "Jellybean" or "Jelly-Bean" was a young man who dressed stylishly but had little else to recommend him
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Sunday, April 22, 2018

If only
April 22, 20180 Comments



I spoke my truth
or at least
found 
the exit
and walked through it before
being swallowed
and spat back
out
on my own face

I chose a different
heaving
seat
heading 
headlong
into the first summer sunday
funday festival
fear not
I have the funds
even though the ATM
is empty

I stepped boldly
off the tarmac
landing
safely
in
new 
neutral
territory

where 
money
horologic creativity
and
chocolate
meet
for coffee
and trade talks

If only

but no matter 


You cannot turn back time





NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 22

Based on the prompt to write a poem in which the impossible thing happens
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Saturday, April 21, 2018

Adrestia
April 21, 20180 Comments




walk by windows
mirroring smooth
skin notions
bright eyed
intentions
set 
out
on
the world
to
be 
seen
the little girl
in the waiting room
whispering
She is so pretty
the many men
long
in 
the 
sink your tooth
into her thigh
high
wasted
life
the doctor
betraying her own
mumbling
slurs
as
old
as the
profession
she proclaimed

she couldn't
she didn't
cannot
outrun
Adrestia

she catches
you every time
leaving
long
lines

hitting
you
square
between
the eyes
leaving
deep
gouges 
of 
want
and
worry
behind

Pass by windows
unseen
passed by
all




Based on the prompt to wrote a poem inspired by the myth of Narcissus
*Adrestia (Ancient Greek: Ἀδρήστεια) in Greek mythology 'she who cannot be escaped'
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Friday, April 20, 2018

Baking Words
April 20, 20180 Comments




I wake
but do not rise
My yeast
intentions
have not
been rendered
active
instead 
sit still
in foil
wrapping
next to 
sunbleached magazines
and 
loose leaf
notions

I lay
in the hot ash
as my skin
forms 
a
crinkle cracked
crust

I melt
and expand

I dissolve
and clabber

Parts of me
evaporate
Others 
fade to meaninglessness
change or breakdown

oh but
when the time is right
the words 
emerge
 all warm
and Maillard browned 




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Thursday, April 19, 2018

Muse Sap
April 19, 20180 Comments




I pull
out
of
the closet
art 
supplies
and
the urge

growing
flooding
mandalas 
on the floor
the muse
gets
juicy
always
wanting
more

I breathe in
the smell
of
rain soaked 
tar
and
turpentine





NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 19

Based on the prompt erase words from a paragraph to create a poem
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Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Sunday Night in the City - with Sharon Olds
April 18, 20180 Comments



Sunday Night in the City

Hand in hand we lie on the bed
our edges blend
our long legs crossed like folded
 white swan
wings, our long feet touching
 pressing against
footboard in the shadow, carved like a headstone
 the love epitaph fills our open mouths
with grapes, your hair is ruffled, dark
such soft darkness
black as walnut, curled like tendrils
wrapped around our dreams like
vines, your right hand is in my right
you reach forward offering an open
hand, my left hand in your left
inseparable we move as one
arms linked like skaters; we lie
green and hopeful
under the picture of farmland; brush
fires spread
dark and blurred as smoke, trees
those familiar strangers  like little death mongers
lifting their ashen fish skeletons
like stories we held
and central to it,  over us
diving deep into
the calm pond
We held our breath
Silent as if eternal


*New lines written for the poem Sunday Night in the City from Satan Says by Sharon Olds



NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 18

Based on the prompt to write a poem coupled with lines from an existing poem
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Tuesday, April 17, 2018

A Cold Glass of Water
April 17, 20180 Comments


Think twice
when you are 8 and 9 of 10
before 
you
ignore
the lesser of the two

Because if you sit
for the better part
 of a humid summer day
curling the cord
and
twisting tales
with a girlfriend
on the other side of town
waving away
the one wanting
just a tiny 
tidbit
of your
time
You may find 
your throat dry
and say

"June - get me a glass of water" -
you watch the little one smile and leave

She returns proudly 
holding out the offering

a tall clear glass
of cold water
filled to the rim
drops of condensation 
glistening on the sides

You grasp the cool glass
and take
 a big gulp

but she stops you before you take another
and raises a knowing eyebrow
proclaiming

"I got it from the Toilet"



Perhaps revenge is a drink that is best served cold...



NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 17

Based on the prompt to write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time.
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Monday, April 16, 2018

Puddle Jumping
April 16, 20181 Comments



Image Courtesy of Scooter Lorimore




Spring rains 
down upon The City

Streets slick
with oil
leached up
from pavement

Sidewalks strewn
with pink cherry 
blossoms battered
off the trees

and the puddles - they are everywhere

street corners
stairwells
and random
low lying
intersections
flood
with rain water
and
detritus

I wrap myself
in the ordinary
uniform
of
Monday
dread
those meetings
spreadsheets
and the gnawing sense
that no matter what I do I will never be finished
soak me 
to the bone

That is when I hear 


Hunter-Wellington
calling out 
Come out, Come out wherever you are

That is when I do it

everyone else rushing
through the 4 way 
STOP
tightly gripping
umbrellas
briefcases
and
intentions

I stomp
wildly
into the deepest
of the puddles

Some scowl

I make my way across the street
puddle jumping
as though I were a stone
skipping across
a calm lake

Some giggle

Ka - Sploosh
I high step
through 
eddying edged
curbs

An old man 
in an old overcoat
Smiles as I pass
gloppy drops fall
from his kettle curl

"Nice boots!"

I wear my sunshine all day







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Sunday, April 15, 2018

Just Another Morning
April 15, 20180 Comments


I know
all too well
the 
creak
and
wobble
of the return

Mornings
collect dust
of forgotten intentions
I run
my cracked
fingers
over 
the 
groove
worn
deep
by the memories
pained
by that awkward
pull
of hestitation
out of shape
struggles
slow
and 
stiff

Wind whips
through tree tops
grown tall 
since
winter's bare
all the colors
muted
bland
blending 
sullen to sky



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Saturday, April 14, 2018

Lionel's Dreams
April 14, 20181 Comments



Dream caused by the flight of a bee around a pomegranate 
a second before wakening up - salvador dali fat ginger cat  Image courtesy of fatcatart 



So if
A surreal 
ginger sleeps
20 of 24 hours
in a day
of what
wild
things
he dreams
you say?


A
Chipped
and 
Tea stained
Teacup
tells
you will slip
from a slick surfaced
sill
stalking
sparrows


A
Seagull
flying far
from 
sandy shore
signifies 
a sock surprise
filled with nip
to sniff and kick
A
creaking
Wobbly table
warns
of
water
a squirt in the face
or 
worse

And do not forget 
the
Rowboat

row row row your boat
gently down the stream
meowly meowly meowly
life is but 

dream




NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 14
Based on the prompt  to write entries for an imaginary dream dictionary
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Friday, April 13, 2018

Wicked Good
April 13, 2018 2 Comments


I went to the L'il Peach
the other day
to buy myself
a purpose

the man behind
the counter culture
quipped
a price

That will cost you
 a lash
and
a snot

to which I replied

you are purring down the right mushroom!


So I paid 
in cash
on the spot





NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 - Day 13



Based on the prompt to write a poem in which the words or meaning of a familiar phrase get up-ended

an arm and a leg
barking up the wrong tree



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