NaPoWriMo Day 30: Humility: A Rodomontade Rewrite

Humility

You're not
dumber than a
mouse, weaker than Argus
yuckier than Velveeta, you're
no loser.

heidi
written 4/30/13 for 
submitted also to dVerse OLN


(original version)
Rodomontade

I am
wiser than an
owl, stronger than cyclops
yummier than goat cheese I am
nonpareil.

heidi



Today is the last day of the NaPoWriMo write a poem a day challenge, and I feel a little sad. I looked forward to the new prompt each morning, I wonder how much longer I will go writing a poem every morning? It'll be cool to see. Thanks to Maureen for the great fun and all the participants (over 2000!) for sharing their work.

Today's prompt was to take a favorite short poem and write the opposite. I chose one of my own because this is my blog, dammit, and I can do that if I want to.  Rodomontade also got me a feature, so I feel a little mushy about it.  I like the way the opposite turned out. There's some extra syllables in my cinquain, but I'm like that sometimes. Thanks for joining me this month!

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Nine: My Family

My Family

મારા હૃદય

আমার হৃদয়

הלב שלי

میرا دل

ຫົວໃຈຂອງຂ້າພະເຈົ້າ

मेरे दिल

قلبي

мое сердце

my heart

heidi

written 4/29/13 for 

Today's prompt was to write a poem using at least five words on other languages. I was carried away with Google Translate and all the cool variations of languages. I decided on languages that used different characters than I am used to, with Russian being the language to move into English. Basically, it is just "my heart" over and over again, but I think that it's pretty. I think I'll go back now and try to translate it back into English and see if I get the same thing.

Eros

Arrows burn a white-hot
  electric ember and sand
  becomes glass.
Silver mirrors the cold frost
  of desire.
Consumed with the obsession
  of possession.
Long lost lust denied
  now found.
The Black Man is chilly,
  but gives into my desire
  and in my passion's paradise,
  lies my erotic overload.

heidi
written 7/10/91 @4:17 am
submitted to mindlovemisery 4/28/13

I always feel like I am the last person to discover an interesting blog. Such is the case with mindlovemisery, where she has written and posted some very cool poems. I saw that she has a linky up today with a prompt for early poetry. I immediately thought of "Eros" which I wrote right before my 21st birthday, and which shows the beginnings of my love of alliteration. I know that it was written at 4:17 because I noted it in the notebook. I also have this written underneath the poem

     "about someone killing someone they 'love' in order to 'have' them (both ways) forever."

Then there is an arrow pointing up to this blurb from underneath and at the end of that arrow, I wrote

     "totally"

Ummmmm...."both ways?" What does that even mean? What the hell was I thinking? (and yes, there is a part of me that still fucking loves this poem...it was one of my favorites.)

Thanks, mindlovemisery for the laugh.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Eight: Blue

Blue

Blue
Indigo
Azure

A primary color
the pigment in your eyes

The state of my soul

...now that you're gone.

heidi
written 4/28/13 

The prompt for today was to think of a color, it's synonyms and uses and write a poem. Thanks for visiting.
(have y'all noticed my comments have gotten drastically shorter? I think I'm all wrote out....)

dVerse Poetics: The Trip

The Trip

There are those rare days
when you will take off from work
and all your obligations
to drive 45 miles with me
to buy one piece of pie.

In that one drive
I forget that
you no longer talk to me
you no longer touch me
and I forget
that we live like cordial
roommates
ones who share the care of two
little ones.

I remember why we
celebrate an October day.
Why I chose you
I can again see us traveling this road
together
forever.

I listen to you laugh
at the all-comedy channel
on the radio.
The warmth of it spreads
down to my core

Then the ride is over.
I can no longer see a
future with us together
and we go back to our
cordial existence.
it leaves me heartbroken and
angry.

heidi
written 4/27/13 for dVerse Poetics

Karin Gustafsen  at dVerse has issued a challenge to write about a trip. 

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven: I Love

I Love

Aoife and Eli: 

     Why I wake up in the morning

Darrell:

     Why I go to bed at night

My sweet Emma:

     Why I have yet to get a new dog.   

Xena, Kolchack, Scooby, Storybrooke, The Doctor:  

     Why I am devoted to TV.

Tremors, The Thin Man, Close Encounters of the Third Kind

     Best movies ever!

The Gulf of Mexico

     before and after the oil spill

My Granddaddy's pasture   

     in the spring

     

Anything written by Agatha Christie or Stephen King

Bella the Bitchin' Camero

The B-52's

The Dixie Chicks

Robert Palmer

Fried Chicken

Chocolate

Potatoes

Bacon

Potatoes with Bacon   

my favorites.

heidi

written 4/27/13 for 

This is my 100th post! Hurrah! I am celebrating with a real pisser of a headache that woke me up this morning. I decided to give myself a 100 word challenge, and now I am going to try to go get rid of this headache before I puke. Thanks for reading!

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Six: Hot Summer Day and Art Like a Soji

Hot Summer Day

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art 


         too hot 

heidi

Art Like a Soji

a summer's day art? more lovely and more temperate.

summer's Sometime too hot And often is gold And fair, fair
nature's eternal summer shall brag So long as men can breathe

heidi

written 4/26/13 for 

Original poem

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (Sonnet 18)

  by William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
     So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15555#sthash.LFIrXab9.dpuf

Today I have two small submissions. The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write and erasure poem. There have been many Shakespeare posts up lately since his birthday was this month, and I decided to try an erasure poem on Sonnet 18. To be honest, I had to put my netbook down for a minute because my first attempt tickled me so much.

The second one was inspired by the Form For All: From Out of Asia by Samuel Peralta on dVerse. Sam writes about the Korean form Soji. It is beautiful and interesting and I tried to create one by erasing Sonnet 8 and what I got was not a Soji. But I like what happened, so I thought I would let you read it too. I have put the Soji form in my notebook and will tackle it again soon.

Thanks for reading. Check out Poets.org, where you can find this copy of Sonnet 18, and other wonderful poetry.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Five: A Mother's Son

A Mother's Son

Listen to my tale, and take heed
A young man cruelly killed
The Ku Klux Klan did the deed
and paid for the blood spilled.

In the dark and still of the night,
Angry men full of hate
met, plotting and spewing their blight
and opening up Hell's gate.

Young Michael walked alone
bringing cigarettes home
he did not know a wicked bone
listed him in Death's tome.

Henry and Tiger did grab him
and stole him then away.
They then beat him with a tree limb
not a moment did they

show poor Michael any mercy
wrapped a rope 'round his neck
strangled him and then still worse he
slit his throat, and the wreck

that was left they carefully hung
in a tree 'cross the street
of Henry's home. The papers sung
"drug deal" soon they would meet

Beulah Mae Donald, his mother
who fought for her dead son.
The reason, there was another,
She'd stop when justice won.

Over two years later, Henry
and Tiger were then caught.
Tiger told all when he
made a deal, but Henry did not.

Henry's last days were in Atmore.
By then, the Klan was dead.
Ms. Donald had more in store
She took the Klan's homestead.

Beware the wronged Southern Mother
and her lovely dead son.
She'll fight all those above her
and rest when justice is done.

heidi

written 4/25/13 for 

So today's prompt was to write a ballad. I couldn't find length restrictions for ballads, so this one got away with me.  The story is about Michael Donald, and I have written about him before in Sweet Home. If you are reading this, I would really appreciate some feedback. I know my form is iffy (I suck at meter and my syllable count is off a little and I couldn't find any two sites that agreed on rhyme scheme.) I'm worried that it is disrespectful to my subject, which I would hate, but I have spent most of the day on it and I have lost all objectivity. I am mostly worried that there is too much dedicated to his death. Thanks in advance for any input. If I need to just take it down, I will.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-four: My Son

My Son

Watching
Eli play with
his toys, singing a song
he made up, filling my days with
his light.


heidi
written 4/24/13 for 


I went off prompt today. I couldn't find an anagram that I liked. So while I was waiting for something to write this is what I saw. I hope that you like it.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Three: The Real Reason Why You Are Not Supposed to Hang Your Laundry Out at Night

The Real Reason Why You Are Not Supposed to Hang Your Laundry Out at Night

Anne sings Dancing in the Moonlight
the clothes flap wetly on the line.
A warm moon, laundry hung at night

Anne sings Dancing in the Moonlight
Wolf's howl, low growl, change in a bite.
Sheets wait, too late, on her he'll dine.

Anne sings Dancing in the Moonlight
the clothes flap wetly on the line.

heidi
written 4/23/13 for 

Today's prompt was to write a Triolet. You may remember that I recently tried this form after reading the lovely A Grey Triolet by Mary Bach. I think I may come a little closer to the meter requirement this time, but we know that I don't stress over meter anymore.

The idea for this poem came to me while I was hanging out sheets at midnight last summer. I was trying to catch up on housework while my sweeties were asleep. The moon was full and I started singing Anne Murray's Dancing in the Moonlight. It occurred to me that the scene would make a great short story about a werewolf. The prose hasn't happened yet, but now I have a cool Triolet.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Two: Better Than Earth Day

Better Than Earth Day

Happy birthday my
Sweet brother Warren you're the
best gift Mom gave me.

heidi
written 4/22/13 and posted 4/23/13 for 


I was pretty good with my internet break yesterday. I had some withdrawal from posting here and I really wanted to watch "My Name Is Earl" on Netflix, otherwise, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.

I wrote this little senryu for my sweet little brother's birthday ( yes, he's a grown man in his 30's but...) and it fits in with the NaPoWriMo prompt for day 22.  Serendipity!

Stop CISPA Internet Boycott for April 22

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-One: Some Other Lines For the Fortune Cookies

Some Other Lines For the Fortune Cookies

Today is Crystal's birthday. Sing to her.

You should really have that thing on your arm looked at.

You are correct: Samuel L. Jackson is the coolest man on the planet.

That haircut you've been thinking about, do it.

In a fight between Batman and Superman, Wonder Woman wins.

That app you are thinking about downloading only needs 100 more downloads before it destroys the Earth.

Eat enough chocolate and discover the meaning of life.

The book you are writing will become Stephen King's favorite.

A cloud's silver lining usually means rain.

Even the smallest dog poops. So why do you have that thing in your purse?

Next time you're shopping in the Target, be sure to say hi.

Some things should never be remade. How did the new Nightstalker last more than one episode?

Your wife will meet you at the door with only a smile and a subpoena.

Next new craze: meat flavored smoothies.

Remember that your garbage service will be delayed a day due to the holiday.

Four words: Hello Kitty Duct Tape.

Seriously that thing on your arm is gross get it looked at now.

lasagna is brain food. Consume daily.

heidi

written for 

So first, a big blushing thank you to NaPoWriMo for the feature today. Yesterday's poem Rotomontade was featured and The Fight  was mentioned. So, if  you are visiting from that link, welcome! I hope you enjoy your time here. Today's prompt was to re-write Frank O'Hara's poem Lines For the Fortune Cookies. It was fun, but this isn't as funny as I wanted it to be. I find that when I try to write something funny, it falls kind of flat. Although, no kidding, get that thing looked at and possibly cut off and sent to the lab.

Happy Birthday Crystal!

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty: Rodomontade

Rodomontade

I am
wiser than an
owl, stronger than cyclops
yummier than goat cheese I am
nonpareil.

heidi
written 4/20/13 for 

This one was fun. even if I cheated on the cinquain a bit. The prompt for today was to use at least five words from this list below. I love these kinds of challenges and I think it all fell into place.

owl generator abscond upwind squander clove miraculous dunderhead
cyclops willowy mercurial seaweed gutter non-pareil artillery
salt curl ego rodomontade elusive twice ghost cheese cowbird
truffles velte quahog bilious 

NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen: Personal Ad for The Doctor

Personal Ad for The Doctor

Wanted: Traveling Companion.
Must be witty, intelligent, brave,
and accepting of diverse cultures.
Ability to think quickly in tricky situations a plus.
Must be able to flee for life if necessary,
and withhold the necessity of blinking on command.
Looking for a long-term committment, as I
am tired of goodbyes.
I am particularly fond of sassy women
and tin dogs.

Interested parties should send inquiry to
The Doctor
c/o the Blue Police Box outside your door.

heidi

written 4/19/13 for


Today's prompt was to write a personal ad. I hope I haven't offended any Time Lords or their fans.

reposted this poem 11/23/13 in celebration of The Doctor's birthday with this audio attached.

listen to ‘Personal Ad for The Doctor’ on Audioboo

A Little Gratitude

A Little Gratitude

To all of the people who give a damn
to those who would offer their last bit of toast
to those who help people who are poverty stained
who understand we are all one big family
and that the unimportant things seduce
who work hard to integrate

the ones who have been disregarded, shamed: to integrate
the ones who have been shunned, oppressed, the damned
the ones who have who have been seduced
the ones who have had their inner self turned to toast
the ones who are bereft of any family
the ones who are adversity stained

Thank you for seeing more than just stained
and hopeless euphemisms, to integrate
the person back not using the label, but the family
name seeing more than just some mistake or some damn
illness, not some piece of discarded toast,
and not some vile fiend looking to seduce

innocence away from the young,  to seduce
values away from the land, to leave a stained
path of destruction in their wake, to toast
the good and to integrate
evil, destroy a family.

People are just people, one big family.
And we need to accept each other. Integrate
the idea that we are more than the potential damned.
We are all different, and each carefully stained
with our own unique beauty
our own positiveness that integrate
into our being, each of us deserving a toast.

We are all miracles, like a croissant left in the heat to toast
warm, flaky, tender, flawed, possible family
nourishment. So, to those who wish to integrate,
to enfold in a warm hug, not to seduce,
I want to thank you. To shake your hands that are stained
with your humanity. To those who run towards the damn

inferno, who toast in the flames to battle the seduction
Thank you for our family, for altering the stain.
Proving humanity's best integrated cry: We give a damn!

heidi with contributions from  Alicia, Anne, Sarah, Kathy, and Kristin
written 4/18/13
posted to dVerse Meeting the Bar: Unfathomable 4/18/13


Towards the end of February, I asked  my friends on Facebook to give me a word and then I would use those words as the end words of a sestina. They gave me the words, but, at that point, I no longer had a sestina in me. Then, at this week's dVerse Open Link Night, there was a link to Victoria Slotto's wonderful Transience-A Sestina. It got my sestina fires burning again, and so, early this morning, I wrote this sestina.

This afternoon, on dVerse Meeting the Bar: Unfathomable, Anna Elizabeth Graham wrote an interesting and insightful post about the poetry that comes from disaster or catastrophe. She prompted us to write a poem that comes from disaster or catastrophe  Even though this poem isn't about a large disaster specifically, I think it fits in with the prompt.

I want to thank Alicia Atchison Lemonier, Elizabeth Anne Sclater, Sarah Helmer, Kathy Hammonds, and Kristin Naccari for giving me the words to use! Y'all are the awesomest!

NaPoWriMo Day Eighteen: The Fight

The Fight

torn like a rag doll
done with your indifference
yell and leave you torn

heidi
written 4/18/13 for 

Today's prompt is to begin and end a poem with the same word, and yesterday was National Haiku Poetry Day and I'm tired and grumpy this morning so voila, The Fight. I think that I wrote a senryu, but I'm going to appreciate the inspiration. Have a good day y'all!

NaPoWriMo Day Seventeen: The Night That I Got to Meet Eli

The Night That I Got to Meet Eli

The heartbeat was declining
they wanted to perform an emergency
C-section.
My sweet guy grows pale
as they give me even more drugs
and Jefferson Airplane starts to play
the theme music for the scene.

We can have you in there and delivered in less than
10 minutes.
And I tell my sweet guy that it's all
going to be
okay.

I am quickly wheeled into another room
it's like a scene from a TV show
and still I get more drugs
and, oh shit, I'm going to vomit
and OH SHIT, I CAN'T MOVE!
It's the only time I have panicked.
And then more meds and all that
nasty nausea goes away
and now it is Amy Winehouse.

"They're trying to make me go to Rehab
and I said
No
No
No."
People are talking at me and I still sing
"Yes I been black, but when I get back you'll
la la la-la, la la la-la Elmo's World"

People talk talk talk at me
it makes little sense,
and then an angry cry.
He's a perfect, pissed off 7 lbs 7 oz
with big Fred Flintstone feet
and the anesthesiologist says
"Here he is, and he's just fine...
why are you  crying"

I think
"because this is a beautiful motherfucking moment dumbass-
listen to how pissed he is."
What I say is
"No
No
No"

Off I go to recovery
to have someone watch me for
an hour
as
I
come
down.

Then, back to my room
and my sweet guy
and my new little fella.

Hi my Heart.

heidi
written for 

Today's prompt was to write a poem where you say hello to someone/thing. I hope that you like it. This one is based on a true story, and the names were not changed to protect the adorable.

NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen: Grass that is Along the Lake

Grass That is Along the Lake

elk word that is by my dell
on me, grown and four din forgotten
is in word thefolly

it's cold, grass under
wrecked mean wrecked white
fans the moan
it lies in god

no wasting on the sinned
in hand four mules
in hand four grapes

watching all hope

wrecked mean lake grass

souly my own
come on in
       lakelakelake

elk word
      weird word lake
lake
     blind

as in bed that night nets up
makes is

lake
     wrecked
mean and glad

wrecked mean and blind
lake it grass     mine the hand
               up the mule

in elk word that in silk sky soft
by the dells up it night grass in four din joy forgotten
is in word telephone that lake and lies still

heidi
written for 

Today's prompt from NaPoWriMo was to visit the Poetry International Language List and pick a poem and write a "translation" of a poem in a language that you don't know. Not an authentic translation, but more, what English words do the words in the poem look like. The idea is to find interesting images and phrasings. So, I chose the Frisian language poem, Gers Dat Alfest Laket. The English translation is right next to it and the poems were listed by English titles, so I saw that Gers=Grass. It is okay that it doesn't make sense, and it was a fun exercise.

I wanted to the city of Boston and all of her people and visitors. I hope that I can use these events to see more love in my life and affirm to all my favorite people how important they are to me.

NaPoWriMo Day Fifteen: Pantun

Pantun

I feel a giddy tingle at your name,
and I want to give you my heart.
I watch the clouds form the lion with a mane
and wonder how to find the strength to start.`

heidi
written for 

NaPoWriMo Day Fourteen: A Horrible Sing-Along Triolet

A Horrible Sing-Along Triolet

My Ph.D. is in Horribleness.
Penny is my one true love.
Captain Hammer I will soon best.

My Ph.D. is in Horribleness.
I will meet Bad Horse's test.
Dr. Horrible will rise above.


My Ph.D. is in Horribleness.
Penny is my one true love.

heidi
written 4/14/13 for 

Today's prompt was to write a persona poem from the point of view from a superhero or supervillain  I wanted to write one from Wonder Woman's point-of -view, but the old theme song kept running through my head. So I chose supervillain, Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. And I wrote another sort-of triolet. Thanks for visiting.

NaPoWriMo Day Thirteen: bigger than a lasagna

bigger than a lasagna

One night
I decided to introduce my friend Gary
to Hungry Howie's

He ordered the baked ziti
with the Howie bread
When he opened the box he said

"That's bigger than a lasagna!"
And I choked on my coke.
"What are you talking about?"

"This bread, it's huge!
It's bigger than a lasagna!"
"What lasagna, Gary?"

"My lasagna, my bread is bigger than my lasagna!"
"I told you it was big."
"But that is really big bread!"

We finished our food
And for the rest of the night I laughed off and on
A lasagna.

The bread was unexpected
the word was unexpected
and 15 years later, it still makes me laugh.

It has become what I look for in life
the funny unexpected, the memorable,
the common surprises that are the everyday miracles.

I like the twist ending
I like the happy cry
and I even like the sad reminders that we're human

and I love my Gary,
and the giggles that last for years
and I love my lasagna.

heidi
written 4/13/13 and submitted to 

linked 4/17/13 to dVerse Open Link Night

If you ever wondered "why bigger than a lasagna?" Here's your answer. It is off prompt from NaPoWriMo, but I woke up and wrote this one this morning right away. I hope you like it and that you are having a great weekend!

NaPoWriMo Day Eleven: If I Have to Be Honest

If I Have to Be Honest

To all of the dear, sweet
well-intentioned people
who praise me for my strength
in having a special-needs-child

who tell me how beautiful she is
like I need convincing

who share the horrible facebook pages
"like" if you think this special-needs-child is beautiful too!
"like" that this marine took  special-needs-girl to the ball!

who try so hard to say the right thing and
only focus on her "special needs"

y'all go bite me okay?

We can totally talk about her challenges,
and get the difficult stuff out of the way.
You won't hurt me.
You won't hurt her.
You can tell me that you don't know what to say...
(sometimes I don't either.)
Let's get that done.

and then she can be Aoife, and not just
special-needs.

heidi
written 4/12/13 for 

Today's challenge was to write something that you always wanted to say but wouldn't. I have written about how I hate how people who have special needs are reduced to just "special-needs-people", like that is all that they are. I think it's lazy thinking, and I think that it is the way that "retarded" has become a "bad" word. I find that it's mostly people who genuinely care, but are surprised, or trying to be supportive who tend to irk me the most. And since she is so young, and this is still so new to me, I don't know how to respond to them either. So, I keep to myself the "shut up" or "bite me", or even the occasional "fuck you".  Because also, I know that there is no one right or perfect way to react when surprised. So, I forgive the people I cuss out in my head, and hope, that if they read this, they'll forgive me too. Maybe we'll get a chance to really talk about it.

dVerse prompt: Go Hang a Salami I'm a lasagna Hog

Go Hang a Salami I'm a lasagna Hog.

I wasn't going to write a palindrome tonight, but
I thought it might be fun to try.
I read the cool dVerse prompt and comments and
I read a page of palindromes so
ideas raced through my head
and because
ideas raced through my head-
I read a page of palindromes, so...
I read the cool dVerse prompt and comments and
I thought it might be fun to try.
I wasn't going to write a palindrome tonight but...

Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog!

heidi
written 4/11/13 for dVerse Meeting the Bar: Palindromes

It's late, and still, I can't help myself. I read the dVerse prompt and then I read a page of palindromes and there was one with lasagna in it! How could I not write something?

*even later* first: hey claudia and rowan! thanks for stopping by! second: i have been reading other posts and it seems that i have (as with most form attempts) a "sort of". i was supposed to flip the lines after "because" but as with all my other sort of's (the ones because i just say no to meter) i like how it turned out.

11/15/13 edit: I changed the title palindrome back to it's original form. I like it better this way. 

NaPoWriMo Day Eleven: Early in the Morning

Early in the Morning.

He sneaks into my
room, tiptoeing across the floor
He thinks I still sleep
I say to him "I see you"
He says "Mom, Dad fussed at me."

heidi
written 4/11/13 for 

listen to ‘Early in the Morning’ on Audioboo

I don't know that I have written a tanka before, but that was today's prompt for the NaPoWriMo challenge. I wasn't sure what to call it, and I am still mulling over the title. I guess I could have just called it "Day 11" for now. Yesterday, I just couldn't post enough, twice here a slew of tweets, and I recorded a mess of posted poems on Audioboo and added them to the page, and then tweeted about it. Today, I feel kind of empty. I am not sure if it was because of all the writing yesterday, or if I was so busy yesterday because I had to do something today that I didn't want to do and I was trying to work out some anxiety. Maybe I'm just tired.

Does anyone now have the song Early in the Morning stuck in his/her head? 

NaPoWriMo Day Ten (part two) and Three Word Wednesday: Love Poem For The Vulva

Words for this weeks 3WW:

Bask; verb: Lie exposed to warmth and light, typically from the sun, for relaxation and pleasure; (bask in) revel in and make the most of (something pleasing).

Grief; noun: Deep sorrow, especially caused by someone’s death.

Raise; verb: Lift or move to a higher position or level; increase the amount, level, or strength of; cause to occur or be considered; collect, levy, or bring together (money or resources; bring up (a child); bring (someone) back from death; noun: An increase in salary

Love Poem for the Vulva

Do not fear your body my dear
bask in the words no grief in the parts.
The vagina is fine but does not appear

(do not fear your body my dear)
outside- now that we're clear
Raise up the word vulva show us your smarts.

Do not fear your body my dear
bask in the words-no grief in the parts.

heidi
written for  and 

listen to ‘Love Poem for the Vulva’ on Audioboo

Okay, so I was able to write a poem specifically for day ten for NaPoWriMo and I have combined it with the prompt for 3WW. Carrying on with the theme I seemed to have established for myself today, we have more about the vulva.  I have tried to write a triolet. I read Mary Bach's beautiful poem, A Grey Triolet,  and wanted to try one for myself. According to Wikipedia, a triolet is often in iambic tetrameter, but, as we learned earlier in the month, I suck at meter, so I have a sort of triolet.

I also posted the poem, Pet Peeve, for today's .

NaPoWriMo Day Ten: Pet Peeve

Pet Peeve

Scary?
Not words about
women's bodies so
please stop using vagina for
vulva.

heidi
written 3/14/13 and submitted to 

listen to ‘Pet Peeve’ on Audioboo

Okay, so this wasn't written for NaPoWriMo, but the prompt today was to write an un-love poem. I certainly un-love when people say "vagina" but mean "vulva". I know it's not the prettiest word ever, but come on, there are much worse (most of which are slang for vulva.) I have also had vulvas on my mind since I read Yvonne Osborne's wonderful poem The Me In Me. 

Now, since I have become somewhat accustomed to writing something new each day, I need to go do that now (especially since my smaller sweetie-pie is amusing himself pretending to be Donald Duck and  flopping on the bed and not climbing all over me.) I think now that I have posted this one I should be able to write something else.

Oh yeah, and look y'all, it's a cinquain!

NaPoWriMo Day Nine: The Gilded Frame

The Gilded Frame

The morning light was grey
and
hung
around
the
city
like a ratty old stole on the
arms of a tired woman
trying too hard.

It had been
too hot to sleep
too hot to live
I couldn't forget the last
words she uttered before
Markheim led her away
"He did it after all.
I didn't kill him
because
he's not dead."

I lit the match for my cigarette and
the flame danced up
then slowly down
the wood
burning
my
fingers.

All of the pieces
fell
into
place
at that moment and,
feeling like the chump of all chumps,
I realized that it would be much
longer
before I went to sleep.
She had been set up and
I was the only one who
could put it right.

heidi
written 4/9/13 for 

listen to ‘The Gilded Frame’ on Audioboo

Today's prompt was Noir for the Ninth. I love it. I think that I want to try to write this out later, but right now I have no idea what has happened. Although, goodness knows I have listened to enough noir,  I should be able to come up with something. Maybe it's easier to think when a three-year-old is not using you for a jungle gym while you are trying to write.            

NaPoWriMo Day Eight and The Mag 163

Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas
via The Mag

Methane Melodies

After the meal, she yearns for the shower
and feels a tightness in her tum.
Slowly she disrobes and as the steam surrounds her
she reminisces about the two helpings of cauliflower cheese with some
prune danish for dessert. She smiles because she is a farter,
enjoying the notes that pop from her bum.
Bubbles gurgle down her stomach then exit as a delightful poot.
Oh! If only she had eaten more fruit!

heidi
written 4/8/13 for  and for 

listen to ‘Methane Melodies’ on Audioboo

(Warning: I cuss in this part of the post...not a lot...but stop now if a swear word bothers you). Okay, so if we have learned nothing else from this blog we have learned that

1. I totally do not get meter (I think it is related to the not being musical thing)

2. I really like gross things (they amuse the shit out of me.)

I take a beautiful picture from The Mag prompt and I see and hear farts. I get a cool prompt from NaPoWriMo to write a Ottava Rima (which I have never written before) and I give you farts with no iambic pentameter.

hhhhmmmmmmm.

NaPoWriMo Day Seven: Sweetie-pies

Sweetie-pies

I am still in bed
and I don't want to get up.
They woke up before seven and
are now downstairs.
I can hear "Curious George" on the TV.
I can hear them respond to the silly monkey.
I can hear their conversation.
They have high, sweet voices and
happy happy laughs.
Their tone gets very serious as they
negotiate their play plans.
Sweet sweet babies.\
She is his big sister.
He is her little fella.
 My heart breaks with what I feel.
Did I ever know what love was before them?

heidi
written 4/7/13 for 

listen to ‘Sweetie-pies’ on Audioboo

Today's prompt was to write a series of statements followed by a question. I think I nailed it and I really like this morning's result as well. And I think I am going to go back to sleep for a while now.

NaPoWriMo Day Six and dVerse Poetics Submission

Valediction at the Target

For some reason
I am compelled to
answer the phone.
(No, that's a lie
I had to confirm something...
it was important at the time.)

I was that person that annoys me.
The one talking on the phone
in the middle of the aisle
in Target.
And I conveyed the info.
And now I am stuck.
I can't get off the phone.

Then the hollering...
the unhappy little kid
the one that must have a toy
RIGHT NOW!
He is so close
the shrill unhappiness reverberates my phone.

What?
MOMMY!
I'm sorry what?
I NEED A GREEN GOBLEM! RIGHT NOW MOMMY!
I can't hear you.
NO MOMMY NOW!
I know, it's like he's right next to me.
TIME OUT MOMMY!
I know...did you get everything you needed
YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!
before he...
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
okay.
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhh  hhh hhh hhh hhh
Yeah I know we never seem to connect...
(angry little kid sobbing)
Yeah, talk to you soon.
(even more angry little kid sobbing)
Bye now!

I can't tell you the relief
of becoming untethered.
I hate talking on the
phone.
Even more talking in
crowded places.

Who's my sad
very good boy who is
going to get the
BIGGEST GREEN GOBLEM EVER
for calming down
and
getting Mommy off the phone?

Yeah I don't mind so much
being
that
Person.

heidi

written 4/6/13 for both  and dVerse Poetics  


Hey! Look at me not writing a cinquain, AND combining two prompts. I think I fudged the intention of the NaPoWriMo prompt (write a valediction) and Kelvin's dVerse prompt (write a poem that is an anecdote). However, prompts are to help get you writing, and this one amused me. (That probably means that I am the only one that will like it but that's okay.)

And I think that I need to see if dVerse still has buttons. Happy Saturday Y'all (and I think maybe Happy Sunday for some of Y'all too!)

NaPoWriMo Day Five: Five Cinquains for a Cinquain

Five Cinquains for a Cinquain

Is it
possible to
become addicted to
poetry form, compulsively
writing

The same
style over and
over like consuming
the same meal everyday and not
tiring?

Precious
cinquain now holds
premier space in my heart
and page, as over and over
I write

More words
in five lines of
2-4-6-8-2 so
many mundane topics that I
covered.

I need
intervention.
Maybe a new form will
turn my head? I think not any
time soon.

heidi
written 4/5/13 for 

listen to ‘Five Cinquains for a Cinquain’ on Audioboo

Okay, so one long poem that is five cinquains, but, in all fairness, today's prompt was to write a cinquain! Yay! And it is also my sweetie-pie's birthday...Happy Birthday Aoife!

NaPoWriMo Day Four: Jaundiced Outlook

Jaundiced Outlook

A soft

place turned hard like

an eggplant growing out

the inside of my leg. Stupid

damn cyst. 

heidi

written 4/4/13 for 

listen to ‘Jaundiced Outlook’ on Audioboo

I'm a day behind in getting this typed into the blog and posted. And look! It's a cinquain! What a surprise. I wanted to do the challenge and write a sea chanty, (I even had a great "pain in the ass" final line) but a cinquain is what happened. Is it possible to get addicted to a form?

NaPoWriMo Day Three: You Are Always on My Netflix

You Are Always on My Netflix

Fighting
was never so
kick ass and fun until
Xena yelled a war cry to save
us all.

heidi
written at the very end of the day 4/3/13 for 

listen to ‘You Are Always on My Netflix’ on Audioboo

I told you that you'd see a lot of cinquains.

NaPoWriMo Day Two: Five Tiny Lies

Five Tiny Lies

I tell
myself I am
a good mother but that
is a lie. My sweeties deserve
better.


I do
not think that my
marriage is draining the
very soul out of me leaving
a husk.

If I
weren't such a bum
lazy and useless then
I could have been great, created
something.

I have
not wasted my
opportunities that
would have lifted a better one
than me.


I have
not let myself
fall apart and succumbed
to the lies my depression spews
at me.

heidi
written 4/2/13 for 

listen to ‘Five Tiny Lies’ on Audioboo

Today's prompt at the NaPoWriMo website was to write a lie.  This is the first draft of what I wrote (like almost everything else on here.) I don't know how I feel about it. I don't think I like it very much.       I am hoping that now that it is out I can write something funny.

NaPoWriMo Day One: Nightmares

Nightmares

Sometimes they
play scary movies on my wall.

Sometimes they
touch my cheek as I am falling asleep.

Sometimes they
make creaking noises that only I can hear.

Sometimes they
whisper horrible things.

Sometimes they
keep me awake almost all night.

Sometimes they
threaten to carry me away.

Sometimes they
laugh when I cry for Mommy...

but not always.


heidi
written 4-1-13 for NaPoWriMo 

listen to ‘Nightmares’ on Audioboo

Hey y'all. We had a very nice spring break but I am now way rusty and NaPoWriMo snuck up on me. This is my first time participating and I think that this is not quite finished but it is a start. The prompt was to use a first line from another poem. I tried to write one with the first line from Dreadful by Shel Silverstein but, I kept reciting it in my head, so I went to The Writer's Almanac. I used the first line from The Neighbors by Jack Ridl. I hope I can do a poem a day...you may see a lot of cinquains. I'll catch up with reading comments and responding as the week progresses. Thanks for stopping by!