Tag Archives: 30 days 30 poems

A Massive Poem – Day 27 of April PAD

streets are wise and wide
the massive
walking out
is now a hesitation
Dreams are wise, as well.

© 2020, forestlove

A Remix Poem – Day 25 of April PAD

Anger and angst
mixed with humour and joy
remix them to
humorous angst amidst
the chaos of angry joy.

© 2020, forestlove

The Same Wall – Day 24 of April PAD

I look at the same wall
for lack of a change
for so many days

Outside, the trees walk
along the boulevard
green dresses and festoons

Skies celebrate
clean and cleaner

The sea is far
The wall is the same as always.

© 2020, forestlove

A Quirky Story – Day 22 of April PAD

Another ethereal
reality bumping across the
quirky road to the sand beach.

Another day of swimming houses
roughly crossing the ocean
of lilac bushes.

© 2020, forestlove

An Isolation Shadorma – Day 20.2 of April PAD

with myself is bliss
none other.
I love to
enjoy all the sunshine in,
keep the thrill alone.

© 2020, forestlove

Souvenir – Day 19 of April PAD


Dry flowers
pressed beyond
their colour.

A pocketful
of those
now dust.

© 2020, forestlove

A Dream Triolet – Day 15.1 of April PAD


When you dream without a memory
groping breathlessly about,
hopelessness – your only reverie.
When you dream without a memory
hoping you’ll escape it cleverly
and with not so much as pout.
When you dream without a memory
groping breathlessly about.

©2020, forestlove

A Control Poem – Day 11.2 of April PAD


Controlling the rhythm
by harnessing rhyme
is an old golden trick
I just can’t apply.

All control freaks
must be users of tricks.

2020, forestlove

Here is an attempt at a Control poem, as prompted by Poetic Asides. Since I started in rhyme earlier during the day, this freak continued in that line.

The Fish Who Died – Day 10.2 of April PAD

The Fish Who Died
At first, it was a scared baby
skilful in hiding among dense foliage
Then it grew a merry fish
skipping to and fro, chasing friends around
surviving predators’ attacks,
a beautiful orange body,
all hope fixated on its growing to maturity
as the only male of its species
in the tank.
And then, it lost its colour,
its briskness, its youthful hop
to hide inside a pot.
The orange cutie fish who was lost.


My Space – Day 2 of April PAD

There is a corner on my balcony,
rather a narrow area just next to its end,
which happens to be my favourite nook
when outside.

There I have all the balcony’s width and its depth
as nothing blocks me from lifting my feet
on the railing.
I have the view to the yard and the street,
but also,
I have a window just on my right
to see, when I want to,
the kitchen inside, and part of the stairs,
and also the huge aquarium full of
out-of-this-world fish fighting all day and night.

There is also just space enough
for me to stretch, cuddle or lean on the railing
still being close to the tiny retractable
coffee table where to place my book, or e-reader –
get modern, come on!

And what tops it all is its place –
at the end of the balcony,
so no one walks behind to reach other areas.
I can sit there and calm the troubles away
pretending the world is just sleeping
and about to wake to its yesterday’s glamour.

Yes, I would call that my space.

©2020 forestlove

Today, I combined the prompts given at two of my usual prompt sites. Poetic Asides ‘Space‘ and NaPoWriMo ‘Specific place‘. I tried to be specific as was the instruction of the latter, and I hope it’s an enjoyable piece overall.