Young Writers Society

30 poems in 30 days? Let's do it!

In 2018, I wrote little complaints, and in 2019 I focused each poem on an emotion. This year, I'd like to work on conveying movement and action in as many different ways as I can think of.

edit: some other goals I'll keep in mind are
Sunday Sonnets:

• 1 monologue that implies a character interaction as context haha I wrote about Odette and her prince
• 1 soliloqy that implies its situational context
• 1 petrarchan sonnet (instead of shakespearean)
• 1 that is not just my sad ramblings about a crush and is actually a rant about my roommate

NaPo 2018: Complaints about the little things in life

NaPo 2019: I'll even kick my own butt

1.
Funny how when we decompress,
we drop the tension, relieve the stress.
We hunch and sigh. We droop and sink.
Our spines compress us away from the brink.

2.
tick
goes the bar on the download screen
tick-
-ing towards the moment when my download goes green
tick-
-ing down the seconds 'till I see my file
tick
while the calcs are running one-minute mil-
ticktickticktick

tick.




...
download stopped.

No!
cries my mother from her home office.
No!
says my father. What's the dang mb/s?
No!
I lament as a tear slips by.
My homework won't load, so I might as well cry.

3.
Late morning floats in through my south-east-facing window.
It casts a patch of sunlight on the carpet.
The soft, tiny strands cast their own tiny shadows,
a painting framed by Plato’s windowsill.

At my door stands a kitten, with mittens. I’m smitten.
He yowls and meows and slinks on in.
He peers at my lap in the cool, soft shade,
then eats my heart by flopping on the carpet.

At my door stands a kitten, with mittens. I’m smitten.
He yowls and meows and slinks on in.
He peers at my lap in the cool, soft shade,
then eats my heart by flopping on the carpet.

top ten anime betrayals (in all seriousness I love this)

4.
Sometimes it begins in the front of the nose,
stirs up the sinuses,
sets mucous ahiss.
The harsh, shushed noise
goes whsss whsss.

Others, it starts at the top of the throat,
teases the palate,
tastes sweet on the tongue.
A soft, startled tsss
wheezes out of the lungs.

But the one I love most comes out from my gut,
blasts through the mouth,
and floats, feather-light.
It crackles, ha ha!
like a horn blaring wide.

5. Sunday Sonnet No. 1
The orange light of evening blazes bright,
a warm, unsett’ling flame to boil my blood.
A haze erases my thoughts as a blight
would burn a verdant wood down to its root.

My phone has shorted out within my palm,
its spark a lightning strike from ear to ear.
A coat of ice grows o’er me like a balm,
as thund’ring parts and heartbeats I do hear.

And now the frozen sheet keeps me entrapped
while thawing ice drips down to fill my lungs.
My use’d breath around my heart stays wrapped,
as from my hand th’offensive cell is flung.

She guillotines the flower of my soul.
Our breaking up commands my head to roll.

6.
Where did the time go?
Is it lost in the tick-tock of my clock,
the click-clack of keys,
or the slow row of light across the floor?
Is it a fugitive hidden in furtive trips to the kitchen,
a refugee creating a creak in my knee?
Or does it lie down inside my eyes
and die?

7.
[insert long yell.]

Hey, weather!
Whether'r not you've got a plan in mind,
would you mind? Taking the time to make up your dang mind?
Like yeah, I know the hot and cold is all that I deserve,
It's the desert. That's my just desserts for living in your turf.

But seriously,
I’m delirious, see?
A half of me is blazing and the other’s gonna freeze.
I sweat out of my sweaters and get cold sweats in my tees.
Just let summer come, you bummer,
Get that week of straight 80s.

8.
My
modern dance
professor told us
that modern dance focuses
on the root of movement.
Fingertips pull fingers pull palms.
Hands pull forearms pull elbows pull
pull pull pull until the shoulder follows,
then torso, then hips, then weight, then body.
One day, some dancer will try so dang hard
that signals from their cortext will target the exact axon
to spark the exact neuron, exact synapse, exact actin-myosin pair.
They will count the exact number of adenosine triphosphate molecules necessary and

twitch.

9.
So we both have opposable thumbs,
jeer the raccoons.
But who is in charge now?

Do you really have to rub this in?
I ask from my window.

The raccoons take my trash
and wash their hands before eating.

10.
I draw a single line on the online white board.
It is a simple line.

In the ensuing 10 seconds, the following occurs:
I speak about a fence and its impact on a visitor's experience.
Camille says, "wait wait wait. What fence?"
Kevin says, "we were talking about a fence?"
Ana's section drawing, which shows the multiple impacts of having openings at the top and bottom of a wall, appears on top of my line.
My line disappears.
Ray asks, "are you talking about the OG fence or are we building a new one?"
Camille says, "oh! I see the fence! What's it doing there?"
I do not see the line. "Where is it?" I ask, about my own dang fence.
"I see it," Ana says.
"I see it," Kevin says.
"I don't," Ray says.

My line reappears on the online white board.
Ray says he is drawing a person at scale.

This is my favorite poem I've read, maybe ever! Very relatable.

So we both have opposable thumbs,
jeer the raccoons.
But who is in charge now?

Do you really have to rub this in?
I ask from my window.

The raccoons take my trash
and wash their hands before eating.

I love it! Keep on writing!

Omg 2 gave me flashbacks to dial-up internet.

I loved 8 and 9 as well! 8 was beautiful and 9 made me laugh.

I know I said this earlier in the pad, but I'm loving your poetry! My favorite one is definitely the 2nd one. And 8, like Blue said, was beautiful. I'll be waiting for more! =)