Two Short Poems for Day 11

cc licensed ( BY NC ND ) flickr photo by ViaMoi: http://flickr.com/photos/viamoi/3012259645/

In Case of Fire

In case of fire
I will not save this poem.
I’ll leave it to burn.
Maybe there’ll be some sparks then.
Maybe we’ll see some passion.




cc licensed ( BY NC SA ) flickr photo by lindes: http://flickr.com/photos/lindes/248862557/

If only

If I could only
Express it with clarity,
if I was better
at metaphors and such things
maybe I would be great, then.

Two tankas for Day 11 of NaPoWriMo (hopefully I have got the form right). The first poem also follows the Day 11 PAD Challenge prompt.

I Can't Do This Any More

cc licensed ( BY ) flickr photo by Massimo Margagnoni: http://flickr.com/photos/50335549@N05/7170224022/


We meet at midnight,
Tired and disillusioned.
The habit has set in.
I drag my feet through the mud
To reach the empty field
Where you are already waiting.
Why am I the only one
Doing the hard work?
You take my time
And leave me frustrated.
Every night I promise myself
I will not come.
For thirty days we meet,
We wrestle.
I suffer.
You grow.
You feed on my misery.
You have put on weight
Since we started.
I am drained.
I am fading.
I have nothing else
To give.
Yet I keep coming.
I drag my feet along this path
Filling it with my words,
My life,
Carefully coded.
Each night
A new riddle.
Where will you take me next?

My Day 10 entry for NaPoWriMo. I combined the NaPoWriMo prompt and the 2013 PAD prompt for Day 10.

The Dark Mirror

Which one is real?
The predator,
Hiding in the shadows,
Motionless, waiting,
The silver in her hand 
Caught by moonlight?
Or is it the other one?
The meek creature
Who comes out only
During daytime?
Does it matter?
They both lie and, in the long run, 
It will make no difference to you.
Whoever she is,
She will hunt you down.
She will take everything you have
And everything you are.
This nightmare,
This reflection in the mirror,
She is all you will ever know.
She will make you walk for miles,
And you’ll never find out her name.

My entry for NaPoWriMo Day 9 (prompt: film noir) and for 2013 PAD Day 9 (prompt: a hunter poem).

Day 8 - How to Build a House

cc licensed ( BY NC ND ) flickr photo by Franck Vervial: http://flickr.com/photos/vervial/6084493791/


Build your house
On a hill.
That will give you an advantage
Over your neighbours
And it will keep you dry
When the floods come.
Lay your foundations
Onto the roots
Of an oak tree.
That will remind you
There’s someone older
And stronger around.
Your ditch should be large and deep.
You don’t need any unwanted visitors.
The door should be simple, made of wood,
And it should creak when you open it.
That way you will know 
That your job is not done.
Make your windows large,
So there is always plenty of light,
But build a deep cellar
To retreat to when you need darkness.
Finally, a tower
To write in,
Solitary and secluded
With just a single window,
Should you wish
To let your hair down.

My Day 8 NaPoWriMo poem. I used the 2013 April PAD Day 8 prompt.

The Only Problem

cc licensed ( BY ND ) flickr photo by h.koppdelaney: http://flickr.com/photos/h-k-d/4030113126/

To celebrate seven days of NaPoWriMo (and eight written poems), I should have created something festive. Instead, I came up with the darkest poem I have written this week. Sorry, but it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.


He bought a rope.
Then he fixed that fence.
He had been postponing it for a long time.
He tidied the house
and wrote a will.
Then he wrote one more letter.
He took his bills out of the box and checked them.
All paid.
He called his son, who said he was feeling better today 
and even managed to eat.
He hung up, then called his daughter.
She was unavailable.
It was getting late, so he had to hurry.
He took the rope from where it was lying
And slowly walked out.
At the door he stopped and looked at the room.
All nice and tidy.
Then he walked over to the barn.
That was all.
But who will take care of his cat now? 

The Post

cc licensed ( BY NC SA ) flickr photo by cindy47452: http://flickr.com/photos/cindy47452/1796528206/


It was their home.
I don’t know 
What they thought or felt,
If anything, 
But they must have enjoyed
The garden
And the kind autumn sun.
The cold must have killed them.
They say this happens to wasps
When the weather changes.
They also say the queen leaves the nest
And goes into hybernation 
During winter.
I hope she did that.
The nest was still there,
Intact.
The mailbox was full of them.
There was nothing else inside.
Nobody writes letters 
These days.

My NaPoWriMo Day 6 poem. I used the PAD Challenge Day 6 prompt (the word was "post").

A Box Full of Trinkets

cc licensed ( BY ) flickr photo by ahisgett: http://flickr.com/photos/hisgett/504354910/


Just start
And keep going
It will all make sense in the end
The words
A box full of trinkets
That dog
Who loved you
That afternoon
When the sun was hot on your skin
And the cold wind
On that graveyard
Your life
Full of trinkets you don’t need
But can’t throw away
A box
Where every button or a piece of thread
Might be needed
To stitch it all together.

My Day 5 NaPoWriMo poem and the prompt is taken from the April PAD Day 5 challenge (write a plus poem). I got stuck and almost didn't write this one, so I played some sad music in the background, closed my eyes and started typing. Then I just kept adding stuff.