drunk with the great starry void -- jack's napowrimo thread

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"April 6th was a bad day". All I have for you is awful unfinished wordplay."

Sounds like a good rhyme-y line to me! :P
~
Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know.
- Ian McEwan in Atonement

sachi: influencing others since GOD KNOWS WHEN.





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#7 the shot

azaleas floating
in a sea of green,
a shooting star

of white
clapped off a club
sweet and right.

spoiled
afternoon walks,
teetering

on the edge,
a flag waves
in the breeze.

sinking
like a ship,
clunking and gone.

Spoiler
Not a golf fan but the Masters is so gorgeous to watch.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#7.1 spring resolutions

If he had not been sleeping
like a child
that afternoon, under the willow tree
with winter grass
clutched to his chest
like a baby,
he would have seen

a changing
sky, innocent blues
arriving,
riverwater rushing
as the ice died,
birds circling,
purple petals on the branches
above.

If he had not been dreaming
of falls
unknown,
of death, and walls
and strangers not yet met,
he could have read

a complexity
unfold.

The sun lit
shadows on his face,
bristling awake
he felt a growing itch

to walk and learn,
to stop, and think
and drink and drink.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#8 counting the days

I made a calendar of your immortality
slowly falsifying itself, it starts
when I first saw you bleed
and ends yesterday,
in a whimper
of self-pity.

Spoiler
Bleurgh.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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I think I might start coming here for my inspiration. #2 and #4 are my favourites so far but I love your general use of word play and the register and the flow. Very nice.
Writing Gooder

~Previously KittyKatSparklesExplosion15~

The light shines brightest in the darkest places.




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#9 a man's weapon

I might be wrong. But
far from the thicket of trees
threatening the meadow's midriff,
I swear I saw a child sacrifice

a lamb. It was gutsy,
serating its belly, sluicing its blood
all over his shoes. A satisified
smack of the lips
and he wandered into the world
no longer a virgin
veterinarian.

He sold his friends a lie about how long
it took and how warm its fluid
felt as it trickled down his thighs.
He tested new words on his teeth, masticating
them between his molars, swallowing
their meanings.

I might be wrong. But I swear
when he looked into the mirror
that night, he grew by a year.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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I really, really enjoyed 'spring resolutions' and this last one too. I do so like seeing it done right.

Keep going! You're nearly at 10!
Mah name is jiggleh. And I like to jiggle.

"Indecision and terror, thy name is novel." - Chiko




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#10 The Secrets Gardens Keep

Cut your lawn like a Lutheran.
Grass lies with daisies and dozy mayflies
Massing in the mossy grasp of summers past, so
Rake it, break its spine, scarify its veins
Until the ground bleeds a bitter truth.
This year is the last of your bloody youth.

Trim skeletons, pull down spider webs.
Get your lawn in order. To grow
Every spring you hose
The holes your ankles broke their bones
In long ago. As the water flows and ebbs
The ground bleeds a bitter truth.
This year is the last of your rusty youth.

Wash your hands of it like a Catholic.
In between bushes and brown bricks
You find longlost brothers kicked
And dirtied, flirting with death, once
Pristine, they are ripe with age and wear.
You pick one up and throw it beyond where
The garden ends.

Pink blossom clouds the road ahead, the view
Of appletrees and crooked knees. The true
Plants wait their turn till summer
And you wander into bumblebees
Nesting in the throes of childhood trees.
There was a ropeladder here, a paddling pool
There. You slipped and sprayed and prayed
A jump would save you from grave
Danger.

The ground is dry but it remembers
The winters cold, the wet Novembers.
Face the facts like an Atheist, the bitter truth:
This year is the last of your perpetual youth.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#11 if I had an orchard

in the valley the gravity
hangs in the air like a criminal.
i am learning the ropes of vagrancy
and the farmhands pretend
not to judge. fruitpicking my way
through the meanders i wonder

if apples know when they will fall
or if they wait
for the perfect pause in a smouldering late
afternoon to drift from the branch
and hug the earth
like a mother and child newly birthed.

i defer to science in matters of destiny.
newton framed inertia
like i betrayed my future.

i hide my head
inside the shade. between the blades
of long grass an apple cowers,
blushing red, it feels soft
and lonely like a tree
lounging in an everglade.

my fate is to stew in the sun
like rotten cider, undecided
if I should dare to bruise my skin
or wait and wait for my stalk to thin
and twist in a cold and bitter autumn wind.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#12 to the reader

Maybe you think this is a poem.
Maybe in your head the first line
and the last line indicate
the beginning and the end.

Maybe this is only words.
Maybe I am just a writer
and you a reader
and this is but a collection of vocabulary
we are sharing.

Maybe this is more.
Maybe this has been heard before.
Maybe it is worth repeating
one more time,

Maybe this is therapy.
For both of us.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#13 incorrigibly plural



It's happening again.
World can spin and pirouette
And land without a squeak.

Other days you decline to remember
we're all rotating at one thousand miles per hour.
Sky is frozen and alive with thunder
I am still and whirling in the winds of tomorrow.

Glass is multifaceted and single-glazed
I can see reflections and refractions of rainwater
Storming my defences. Images are lies
The world is upside down or my brain is fried.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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#11 if I had an orchard

in the valley the gravity
hangs in the air like a criminal.
i am learning the ropes of vagrancy
and the farmhands pretend
not to judge. fruitpicking my way
through the meanders i wonder

if apples know when they will fall
or if they wait
for the perfect pause in a smouldering late
afternoon to drift from the branch
and hug the earth
like a mother and child newly birthed.

i defer to science in matters of destiny.
newton framed inertia
like i betrayed my future.

i hide my head
inside the shade. between the blades
of long grass an apple cowers,
blushing red, it feels soft
and lonely like a tree
lounging in an everglade.

my fate is to stew in the sun
like rotten cider, undecided
if I should dare to bruise my skin
or wait and wait for my stalk to thin
and twist in a cold and bitter autumn wind.


INSIDE MY HEAD I AM GOING AHHHHHH AHHHH AHHHH !!!

I am so excited about this poem. Like, I feel it bubbling in me. It's so fantastic, Jack! Thank you!
you can message me with anything: questions, review requests, rants
are you a green room knight yet?
have you read this week's Squills?




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Okay, I've hit a roadblock. Hopefully this will be filled with poems soon :/
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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I believe in youu!

(Also, nice job on getting this far. Awesome NaPo.)



It is dangerous to be right in matters on which the established authorities are wrong.
— Voltaire