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Dribbles and Drabbles; in poetry, I dabble!



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Mon Mar 16, 2020 8:07 pm
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JabberHut says...



I don't actually dabble in poetry though, let's be perfectly clear.

Thought I'd try something different though and give myself the option of trying micro-fiction or drabbles (100-word-stories) if I'm at a loss for daily poem prompts.

BUT 30 POETRY-LOOKING THINGS IS MY END GOAL LEGGOOOOOOO

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I make my own policies.
  





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Thu Apr 02, 2020 4:24 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
AND THUS I SWOOP IN WITH A TRASH-COMPILED WORD VOMIT

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1. Dinosaurs and Dynamite

you drown yourself with lemonade
spiked with your favorite chardonnay,
the delicate glass swinging loosely between
cold, lifeless fingers,
and as you watch the chalk-dusted children
draw dinosaurs with dynamite,
(as if a clever pun could lift the infectious veil
suffocating our society)
you wonder
will the world finally end?
I make my own policies.
  





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Sat Apr 04, 2020 5:54 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
I HAVE NOT FAILED YET, I PROMISE. I'm just super busy and other things. Plus constantly angry at this poem, but I cannot be bothered to care anymore because I moved on. But I did do something on the 2nd, so.

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2. Forever Cursed

When the golden dawn glints across the horizon,
the rooster cry echoing across the meadow,
your bronze feathers spread by my ear,
carrying you off ‘til you were but a shadow.

For I’m your black knight, you watch from afar
as I seek out revenge, in search of a fight.
Loyalty and grace, my lover divine;
Forever cursed, my love out of sight.

When night envelops us in blinding shadow,
and nature settles into gentle cricket song,
your golden locks fall upon your elegant shoulders,
your thin manicure gentle upon my head.

For I am your wolf with coat of dark ebony,
in search of revenge, for your embrace I beseech.
I yearn once again to trace those lips;
Forever cursed, my love out of reach.

“We may be imprisoned in bodies not our own,
but our love is eternal,” your fingers into my fur.
True may your words be, you are my world alone,
I will seek out vengeance — this I can assure.

For I am the night and the knight of the black,
and you are my muse, my constant, my hawk.
Forever together yet forever out of sight,
Forever cursed, my lover divine.
I make my own policies.
  





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Sat Apr 04, 2020 6:01 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
And the poem for the 3rd that flowed far better than the previous, thus moving on. Still, though, this is a super rough start for me WHICH MAKES THIS VERY DIFFICULT.

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3. Bounce, Bounce, Bounce

The sun hurled itself into the sky,

an airball scoring into high noon’s prime.

I take a breath of cool air sublime

and bounce,

bounce,


bounce the ball one more time.


The neighbors are wavin’ from right next door,

sippin’ their beers and cocktails with lime.

She shops online though he works no more,

and I bounce,

bounce,


bounce the ball one more time.


“Stay inside,” my teacher was sayin’

“‘til the sickly foul is past the state line”,

but mama’s coughin’ and daddy’s snorin’

so I bounce,

bounce,


bounce the ball one more time.


It’s peaceful out here with no cars about —

just my dribbling ball and mama’s wind chimes.

but our tiny opponents are still en route,

as I bounce,

bounce,


bounce the ball one more time.


I have an online lecture in the morning—

a history lesson over the period of ‘29

and the struggle that came without much warning,

but I still bounce,

bounce,


bounce the ball one more time.


I’m scared to go in ‘cause mama’s sick,

but night is out — thus ends halftime.

I dunk the ball, burnin’ brow oddly slick,

And cough,

cough,


bounce the ball one last time.
I make my own policies.
  





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Mon Apr 06, 2020 2:47 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
EHEHEHEHEH who knows, man.

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4. Design of My Heart

I thought I was okay.

The hole in my heart was occupied,
a circular piece inserted into a circular socket,
a puzzle piece with the correctly-molded edges—
but you saw what I could not.
You knew the design of my heart,
spotted the color-blinded culprit hidden in my heart
with no sense of the surrounding gradient,
and pried it out of place with the gentle care of an artist,
never damaging the puzzle pieces around it.
You popped it out of place,
tossed it aside,
and inserted a new piece shaped with better form,
painted with colors to perfectly complete the gradient.

You slid right into my heart,
and I feel better for it.
I make my own policies.
  





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Mon Apr 06, 2020 2:50 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
I did a thing. Clearly I'm just tapping into whatever I can in the moment, but this one did feel a bit real when conjuring up the ingredients list. So I tried to be a little creative with it.

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5. Recipe for the Quarantined Soul

1 list of hobbies/projects to pursue (lengthy, hopeful)
1 cup energy
1 cup motivation
2 tablespoons dreams
2 teaspoons loneliness
1 teaspoon lethargy
2 teaspoons indifference
1/2 teaspoon mood swings
2 cups sense of insignificance
3 cups self-doubt (heat-treated self-confidence)

Preheat oven to 350F. Spread baking sheet with self-confidence. Bake for 5-10 minutes or until confidence is killed. Remove from oven and set self-doubt to cool before use.

Mix list of hobbies/projects to pursue, energy, and motivation until smooth. Add dreams and mix until combined. Put in refrigerator to chill for 1 hour.

Stir loneliness, lethargy, and indifference into mixture. Slowly add mood swings, sense of insignificance, and self-doubt (heat-treated self-confidence from earlier) until desired consistency.

Chill or freeze to eliminate all feelings of warmth and sweet positivity.
I make my own policies.
  





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Wed Apr 08, 2020 8:44 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
I kinda tapped into an old story of mine and now I miss it a lot. //sad

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6. In the Depths of Pompeii

When the Belle’s practiced cursive curled into words
on the yellowed pages of her grandmother’s tome,
the cursed Seer’s fate sealed itself away
‘midst the flames of his past, in the depths of Pompeii.

When the Belle’s scarlet blood spilled delicately on the page
her brow dappled in sweat and her limbs cold and shaking,
the exiled Fae fell, his skin taut with guile,
from the spells of his kin, in the shadow of the Nile.

When the Belle’s wrangled soul consumed the final script,
she accepted her destiny in the darkness of sin,
so they dragged her back home to their sinful abyss
where the flames kiss her skin, in the den of Atlantis.
I make my own policies.
  





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Wed Apr 08, 2020 9:14 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
AND THEN GARBLED GUNK 'CAUSE WHAT AM I DOING

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7. Destiny's Trap

the crow stitches his wings,
torn and frayed,
crusted in blood and wet with his tears
as the dying light fades from his eyes,
blurring the lines between broken heart
and blackened sky, so perhaps
one day
he will fly (blindly, this time)
into destiny’s trap.
I make my own policies.
  





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Sat Apr 11, 2020 1:03 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
I'M KEEPING UP, DON'T COUNT ME OUT. MY TRASH COUNTS FOR NAPO.

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8. All It Takes

All it takes
is one conversation,
a discussion about your dog
chasing rabbits in his sleep
to remember how to smile.

All it takes
is one ridiculous half-true story
circling the store twenty times
searching for the tiny, evasive coin batteries
to remember how to laugh.

All it takes
is one kind word,
a priceless reassurance
that you still care
to remember how to love.
I make my own policies.
  





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Sat Apr 11, 2020 1:09 am
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JabberHut says...



Spoiler! :
I kinda wish I gave more attention to this, so I've a feeling I'll return to it. Someone at work inspired a thought in me and I was too busy to make something of it but, naturally, still desperate enough to write napo gibberish. So at least the idea is jotted down!

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9. The End of the Tunnel

My heart is ablaze,
burning within my chest,
eyes glued to the light before me —
surely this is the end!
surely this is the way out!

My feet ache with blisters,
sneakers sporting soles with holes,
as my fingers glide across the cold stone walls —
surely this is the end!
surely my freedom is near!

My hope is crushed,
the light morphing into torchlights,
revealing another dark passage to tread —
surely the end is there!
surely I can get out of here!
I make my own policies.
  





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Fri Apr 17, 2020 11:36 am
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Cadi says...



I like your "word vomit", Jabber! Thank you for sharing these.

I enjoyed how you played with shape in #3, with the bouncing of the basketball across the page. And #5 made me laugh, it's so painfully accurate (although, fwiw, I do think we all need to be forgiving of ourselves for not getting projects done during a global crisis!).

Looking forward to reading more from you!
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
  





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Wed Apr 29, 2020 9:10 pm
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Liberty says...



Jabber! Your poems are amazing! 3 and 5 made me laugh. I love how you've got gifs as well to pair up with your little author notes. Also, I'm loving the imagery you have in each and every one of your poems. I hope to see more from you even though it's the second last day of NaPo, hah.
LadyBug is the best frister ever <3
(everyone please know that LadyBug's the coolest goose you will ever meet)
(this goose blushes too much)
(lol imagine a blushing goose xD <3)
  








When you cut pieces out of the truth to avoid looking like a fool, you end up looking like a moron instead.
— Robin Hobb