Sweet and Bitter Stuff of Wonder
Brought to you by Mary K
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“Rather dead than fat”
a mantra empty of value –
too long chewed over,
too often spat out,
till entirely rubbed off its truth,
but not of its assumed calories.
©2020, forestlove
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Today’s prompt at NaPoWriMo.net was to borrow a line, word or an idea as the core of our new poem. I chose a random line from the Twitter bot tweeting lines by Sylvia Plath – “She would rather be dead than fat”. What followed as a result reflects my honest opinion. Smiles.
You may step
with the wrong foot first,
but also
your day could be beautiful
depending on luck.
©2020, forestlove
Follow the instructions –
after each tactile contact
wash your hands profusely
and with soap.
Then, I follow my own instruction and
apply hand cream with generosity.
With so much use of cream,
I hope the supplies won’t deplete
because my skin just isn’t complete
when it doesn’t beyond-all-retreat
soak in it.
©2020 forestlove
In Day 3 I offer you this attempt at looking at the current emergency with a sense of humour. Poetic Asides offered the prompt of ‘Follow [blank]’, and NaPoWriMo site suggested poets to generate a list of rhymes/near rhymes from a set of words of our choice. I looked around and picked up words like desktop, face cream, file. Then, I used my original ones, to be honest, although I checked the generated word pool and was quite intent to use those, as well. As usual, I did simply follow my poetic pen.
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.
This is the American haiku on Poetic Asides prompt, A New World
Balcony
peaceful this springtime –
a new world.
©2020, forestlove
Hello and welcome to April! Here are the pieces I wrote today for Day 1 of the April PAD.
First, we have the Life as metaphor prompt coming from NaPoWriMo. We also got the New World prompt from Poetic Asides. Starting with
Life is like
lying on your balcony
squinting your eyes at the sun.
You stay there and wait,
flexing your pose according to the movement of the sun,
placing a cap over your face, then removing it,
while the sun progresses on its unaltered course,
uninterested in your conscious actions.
©2020, forestlove
Time whooshes past the tree
where blossoms wake to beauty.
A sigh stops short.
(c) 2020 Mariya Koleva
April Poem-A-Day 24 – Tell it to the Hand
Talk to the hand, my friend
and tell it stories long forgotten
tales that only you remember
not for long
Tell your story
to the hand again
The story will be different
every time you stop to take
a breath
The hand will listen patiently
It will.
©2014, soulmary
April Poem-A-Day 22
A sheet of paper
tightly-scribbled with notes;
All over it
is music
until the moment
you use it to kindle your fire.
©2014, soulmary
April Poem-A-Day 21 – Back to Basics
Back to basics
when two and two made four
without too much complication
or small print
outside printable area;
when no one signed contracts
over the phone
to learn a week later
that their ‘Yes, mail me the offer.’
was interpreted as a ‘Yes.’ only;
Back to the time
when the streets were empty of cars
and mainly served as the topic
of romantic city poems.
©2014, soulmary
