Hopes and Fears of a Sleeping Dragon

I totally managed a whole month of NaPo last year - so bring it on, 2018!

30 days, 30 poems. Here goes.

Comments and feedback absolutely welcome! Liked a line? Thought a phrase landed funny? Let me know!

NaPo 2017

#1

Me: flat out on the laminate (supine),
pressing shoulder blades into the cold
that I might open up the ribs which have curled in on my lungs
(the fingers of a nervous fist
my whole chest around).

Me: arms wide, eyes shut,
letting the smoke curl gently up my spine and
(gently)
down again.

#2 or, Emotions About Shelves

Teach me how to make a shelf.

I want to measure out space and carve up wood
and I want it to be you who shows me how to do it best
like you have shown me so many other things:
the kind of screwdriver that uses lateral force
the pressure by which a wet cloth can wipe a surface dry
and the way to make carry-handles from rope.

Spoiler

I want this to be longer, and to take in a whole lot of other things, but I don't seem to have it in me today. I don't think I'm getting across the volume of emotion here, but let's leave it at that for now. Tough topic, however deeply buried.

#3

Between these covers, on all these sheets of cream
you'll find
one hundred and fifty days' worth of ink
for which three pens have been sacrificed.
The runes and devices,
the graphemes
of a ritual one hundred and fifty days in making
and due to continue many more.

Last October, I stood in the middle of Islington and made myself a promise:
to commit
to such a conjuration
for in the dedication of so many sigils
over three thousand, six hundred hours,
gods only know what wisdom might be uncovered.

Through knowing the name of a thing, one might gain dominion over it
and so I am naming my emotions.

I am loving your writing style so far. I really like how you're not being super flowery with your language but using smart words to describe what you want. Love poem #3

Thanks, Aley!

#4

Hey - do you remember when
the hurricane swallowed our plans?
We dined in the river estuary
and caught the rain in our hands.

Do you recall that photograph
and the afternoon we spent
walking in coats and scarves by the lake
taking selfies as we went?

Remember all of the nights we've had
going out, or staying in;
playing new games and making up names
for more bands than you'll ever be in.

Spoiler

Needs a fourth verse. Can't think of one.

I love number 4 omg I love it a lot. I think rhyming poetry is totally underappreciated, even when it's done super well like you did here (i.e. I didn't even notice it rhymed at first because you clearly didn't write what you wrote just so it would rhyme)!

I adore your writing style c: 3 and 4 are my favorite. I always love a good calmly rhyming poem like 4 <33

Aah, thank you, Dems & Cat! So glad you liked it!

#5

Once, after the end,
I cast off my melancholy blanket and went
into town
searching for sunlight to smile at;
the train was nose-to-tail and door-to-door
with people
(none of them were you)
(none of them cared like you)
(none of them cared - like you)
and there in the hot press of strange bodies
I collapsed:
an old tower block, foundations blasted out.

On the platform,
in the rubble that remained of my fleeting cheer,
unknown hands sat me up
and poured me water
I couldn't swallow;
the stream washed me back to sorrowful sheets
and everything was bathed
in tears.

#6 or, "All the People That'll Mean Something"

number one is a whirlwind in rainbow Doc Martens
who knocks down the walls if they're in the wrong place
defender of difference and self-definition
stretches horizons with a smile on their face

if you're after a bard, number two's a good option
with many a tale and a song to their name
listens to listeners, no telling quite repeated
knows the world would be dull if we all were the same

number three comes in later, a little more time spent
learning what's good and what's bad for the health
challenges the badthoughts, a peddler of reason
gives causes to notice being down on oneself

Spoiler

If you fancy a tune to sing this one to, try Mark Knopfler's Sands of Nevada

#7

You started to forget
before I learnt to remember.

(Your door key
your handbag
your passport.

Your neighbours
your address
your grandson's name.)

A hundred miles and a decade away
I'm scared I've forgotten you.

Cadi you have so much variety here! I like that you're not afraid to play with sentence structure a little or add in a parenthetical thought - that keeps the poetry really fresh and interesting.

Both #1 and #5 I could just feel the story and those very specific emotions you described. Also enjoyed this great progression you did:

(none of them were you)
(none of them cared like you)
(none of them cared - like you)

And I've also gotta echo Aley your word choice is unexpected and interesting all the time! #3 is a fabulous example of that.

Thank you so much, alliyah! I'm so glad you like that progression, I thought I was being a bit self-indulgent leaving it in, because I wasn't convinced it worked, but I liked it, haha

#8

it's like this:
ciabatta dough is all but liquid
pooling in your hands
and over the work-surface
dry-flour-coated
but clingy inside

Spoiler

A quick one today, because I'm cooking an excessive amount of food for some friends to eat this evening. Yes, including ciabatta!

I'm really adoring so many of your poems here, Cadi. I love your imagery - you're using simple household things and it's really evocative and special, and every poem seems so tight and put together.

Thank you, Stella! ^_^

#9

I walked across Hampstead Heath in the rain
and though it was light and fine, just drizzle,
it washed out the tension from my shoulders.
Every long stride up Parliament Hill
stretched my calves and opened my chest,
soaked serenity into my jeans.