Golden Canvasses

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Welcome to my first NaPo thread. I'm sure I'll embarrass myself here, but that's what the anonymity of the internet is for, right? CARPE DIEM!
Last edited by Elfboy on Sat Apr 11, 2020 3:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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This one was written last night just an hour before April began, so I'm not going to count it for the challenge, but I will share it anyways. I also posted it here if anyone wants to leave a formal review. Anyway, here it is:

Dead Night's Moonlight

Flickering moonlight
Iridescent shadows
Unbroken, perfect, heavenly beams
Longing to touch the broken ground

Floating down
like gentle rain
To flood the grave
Of a dying Earth

Or, perhaps, falling up
An angelic storm
To kiss the palm
Of a universal what if.
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Okay, here's my poem for April 1st, a haiku I wrote in today's poetry jam. Here it is:

Flaming Feathers

Feathers flame tonight
Nothing left but ancient crows
Laughing to the wastes
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Haha, I felt inspired and went and wrote another poem. Bonus points, right?

Beautiful Glowing Minds

Beautiful glowing minds
Painted red with liquid fire
Rising up on drafts of inspiration
To drip their magic flame from heaven
Floating, flying, they move
through the clouds like angels
Upwards, ever upwards,
To meet the starlight face to face
For what are the stars
But beautiful, glowing minds?
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Ever write a poem that you didn't mean to write, but has a perfectly cohesive theme anyway? Here's today's poem, Broken Lines.

Broken Lines

Broken lines on aged faces
Make me think of death by waiting
As time spins like yarn about an old woman's finger
I can't help but feel the tears of a forgotten soul
Chords from old pianos rend my heart
Forgotten concertos blur my mind
As my own face is threatened
By ancestral broken lines
Last edited by Elfboy on Thu Apr 02, 2020 5:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Also, bonus poem I started last night and honed during the poetry jam:

Dripping Words

Simple words drip from my mouth
Like water from the ancient mountain
Trickling, flowing through the valleys
Cutting with the force of aeons
Clear and pure as crystal shards
Flowing through the endless ages
Onward, eastward, forward forever
Springtime water, the purest poetry
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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It's a beautiful rainy day today. Here's my poem for April 3rd, this one started out as a much longer poem, but I felt it worked better as a Haiku. I hope you enjoy it!

Silken Drops

Perfect silken drops
Cathartic quicksilver rain
Nature's healing kiss
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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So much déjà vu lately, I just had to write a poem about it. Anyway, here's my poem for day four of NaPo!

Stagnant Time

Time is spinning on a wheel of chance
Eternal déjà vu plagues tomorrow
Always going back, but never home
Freedom tastes of dead yesterdays
And frozen aeons left behind
Perhaps one day I'll break this orbit
And shatter stagnant time
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Today is Palm Sunday, and the coming days mark Holy Week. This will be the first time for as long as I can remember that I didn't go to church to celebrate Holy Week, so I guess that's what inspired this poem.

Forgotten Wine

Empty as a chalice
I wait for something to fill my soul
I can't recall the taste of bread
Or the sound of footsteps upon the altar
Nor that feeling of holy drunkenness
Just before my lips met the wine.
I wonder if I wouldn't give my life
Just to remember for a single moment
The glorious tang my life once had
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Your poems are very picturesque, Ethan! My favorite poem is probably Dead Night's Moonlight, because I adore the words you've used - you work with them very well, and I you could say that the rest of your poems are proof.

I'll definitely be watching out for more of your wonderful work!
*insert quirky signature here*




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Aw, thanks Liberty!
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Today's poem, another haiku, was inspired by a peculiar ringing in my ears last night. I hope you like it!

Moonsong

The sound of moonlight
Angelic voices ringing
Her song calls me home
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Today's poem is my very first attempt at blank verse poetry. I think it turned out well enough for a newbie!

Silver Dreams

Silver dreams on shattered wings go flying
O'er silent frozen plains, my misty mind.
Forgotten angers, fears, and loves lie dead,
Crystal-crusted, broken on the cold ground.
Spinning madly like a leaf in a gale
I wonder why I returned to this waste
When all that awaits me are silken lies
I spun long ago to keep my heart sane.
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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April 8th's poem was inspired partly by stress, and partly by my brother's poorly tuned guitar. Some haikus express beauty, others ugliness, and this one's the latter.

Snap

Stretched out much too thin
Like discordant guitar strings
One tug from snapping
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"

--Vision




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Ethan I'm a big fan of your blank-verse poem! That turned out quite beautifully, especially these lines;
I wonder why I returned to this waste
When all that awaits me are silken lies
I spun long ago to keep my heart sane.


The Palm Sunday one I could relate too a lot too - such an eerie feeling of not being in church during holy week, there's some whimsy in your own poetic reflection on it but I think it also communicates that strange feeling of things not being how they should be.

The language of all of your poems seems carefully chosen - I'm enjoying your writing this month! :)
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return



"The trouble with Borrowing another mind was, you always felt out of place when you got back to your own body, and Granny was the first person ever to read the mind of a building. Now she was feeling big and gritty and full of passages. 'Are you all right?' Granny nodded, and opened her windows. She extended her east and west wings and tried to concentrate on the tiny cup held in her pillars."
— Terry Pratchett, Discworld: Equal Rites