It’s a Shadorma – Anti-Form for Day 16 of April PAD

Day 16 is a Tuesday, so Robert offers another cute Two-For-Tuesday prompt. We need to write a Form and/or an Anti-Form poem. Curiously, I wrote a Shadorma which calls for breaking the form. Yeah, that’s me. Enjoy!

***
Break all
forms we use to poem.
Just lose them.

Focus on
what is in your very heart
and the rhyme will flow.

© 2024, soulmary

Do I See and Hear Fear? – Day 17 of April PAD

Today, I am writing an independent poem for April Poem-A-Day challenge. Meaning, I’m not following a prompt. This poem came to me following something unpleasant happening in a close friend’s personal life. Plus, fear is always a thing, isn’t it?
Here it is:

***
Amidst the noise
of thunder
and the tears in
my soul,
I can still hear
the whisper of
the sea –
the magnificent
and frightening sea,
washing the empty beaches,
smoothing the coast,
caressing the abandoned sands.

Among all the colour
of people running around in hectic
panic and haze
wondering why they do it and
when
they can stop to rest,
I can still see
the long shadow thrown
by the tall pine tree
at the edge of that forest
which I knew as a girl.
The forest that lulled me
to tears and sweetness
together.
The forest that cooled me
and scared me with
indistinct figures and sighs.

Do I generally hear
of see just fear?
Mostly fear.
My own, lovely fear.

© 2024, soulmary

Living – Day 13 of April PAD

***
Living with the squids
brings flexibility to the surface
of our minds.

Living with the wolves
teaches us how to catch pray
and be merciless.

Living with the butterflies
allows us to flex and change
in ways we don’t control.

Living with people
tosses us in the jungle
where no rules or laws
will function.

Living alone
frees us from all worries
just to drag us into
the dessert of nothingness
which is also
a lack of all meaning.

What’s best, you’ll ask?
Living is what matters most.

*
A Cat Living Nine Lives

Is that true?
If yes, how come we don’t
see the same cat again?
If no, how come we all
repeat this?

*
©2024, soulmary

Funny Tall Tale Poem – Day 12 of April PAD

Today, the two prompts were very interesting and difficult to follow. Robert at Writer’s Digest prompted us to write a Funny Poem, and the NaPoWriMo site asked for an attempt at a Tall Tale Poem (you know, the type of David Crocket stories). Here’s what I wrote, although I doubt it’s either funny or doing any justice to the tall-tale genre. The latter has always been a favourite of mine, but at the same time, the one I have never been particularly good at.

***
The circus came –
Clowns more frightening than funny,
All thanks to good old Stephen.

Children thought they’d better spend
their time creating heroes.

With costumes green and purple or bizarre,
with eyes so big and grinning lips,
their hands were shovels, some were rakes,
legs were particularly difficult to make.

Then look – the next day
all the forest was live with laughter
echoing throughout the village,
mixed with screams and shouts.

The circus stayed a month
The children’s heroes played around
Brimming with the joy they’ve found.

©2024, soulmary

Memories and Monostich – Day 11 of April PAD

Memories often bump in me
like balls sliding on fast tracks
or toys hurled by toddlers.

Sometimes they bounce off happily
causing smiles and leaving me bright.

Some, though, stick – thick and heavy,
reluctant to move on,
simply clinging to me
as cannonballs in damp clay.

They give me goosebumps,
or visions of dark.
The love of darkness
is overwhelming.

***
Belittling bad memories has never brought about the joy we hoped it would.

©2024, soulmary

Note: Both pieces are on the topic given by Writer’s Digest Prompt for the day – Memory. The second one is a Monostich after NaPoWriMo.net prompt for the day.

Day 10.2 of April PAD – More Poetry

***
My poetry
Reminds me of me
Thirty years ago with Daddy.

The poetry
we used to read to each other,
arguing, explaining…
in short – showing the love.

©2024, soulmary

Poetry Is Better – Day 10.1 of April PAD

The poetry blog of Writer’s Digest through our very own Robert gave us a nice prompt – Blank Better. I decided to put Poetry in the blank, and here is the resulting poem –

Poetry Is Better

Poetry is better than most
awkward truths and silences.

It fills our souls with yearning,
tears and thoughts we want to
yell to the world or weep about.

Poetry urges us to be better,
stay better, dream wilder
sigh deeper.

What can be better than poetry?

It’s always new,
striking new,
eye-opening new.
Nothing’s better.

©2024, soulmary

Another Love and Anti-Love Set of Poems – Day 9 of April PAD

So many times I have written a Two-for-Tuesday Love-Anti-Love set, that I thought I couldn’t do it justice. Still, I think these two pulled just right. The first one is Shadorma, and the second one derives from my favourite musical of Chicago and the famous piece “All I Care About Is Love” where the lawyer plays the generous type. Here is the video for you to enjoy:
And now, for the poems

***
Love is when
you make me coffee
all mornings

Not asking
what type I want or when but
simply knowing it.

***

Anti-Love

“All I care about is Love
That’s what I’m here for”
Billy Flynn, Chicago Musical

The lawyer loves the money they pay,
the scandal they make,
Sensation for Miss Mary Sunshine’s newspaper
Jealousy for the husband’s repertoir.

Love is the theme of many a mellow tales,
many a lies
and the songs
cheaters lull us by.

Anti-Love could be a topic
for a rhyme worded on a
beach at the tropic.
Of Cancer
Or Capricorn?
Who knows? Or who cares?
Anti-Love is a bug in which
we all stare.

©2024, soulmary

Spring and Eclipse – Day 8 of April PAD

The Warm Weather
has been tiptoeing in the city,
throwing furtive looks in windows,
balconies and backyards.

The moon has tiptoed in front of the sun
to make us wear paper glasses online
and post prolific safety tips and random bare toes.

©2024, soulmary

Luck – Day 7 of the April PAD

Good luck you wish for.
Bad luck you wish away.
Pot luck is what you get
when others cook their way.

Is there anything we can trust about luck?
Or control about pots?
Can we stand and watch from the side,
silently acknowlegding whatever’s served?

I wish I could simply eat the pot away,
not nagging for hours every day.
Still, we don’t control our luck –
it just comes and tends to stay.

©2024, soulmary