Tonight

Day 30 of NaPoWriMo. And so with a sad heart i say goodbye to NaPoWriMo 2022. It has been an awesome monthlong of writing poetry.

Tonight

tonight i could sing the most heartbreaking song
with mournful melody that could break anyone’s soul apart
with a sad refrain that summarizes the agonizing suffering of a heart in pain.

how can there be so much pain in a heart where there is so much joy?

tonight i could dance in the saddest most powerful impulsive way
channeling my inner intensely expressive self that may murder the spirits of spectators who feel no wish to dance themselves.

how can there be no other emotion that has the ability to make you feel both indescribable joy and deep fear and sadness, sometimes simultaneously?

tonight i could write the most lonesome poetry
for there is nothing more beautiful than to a poem written by poet whose heart is not just broken but shattered in million pieces where no amount of careful skillful hoisting could assemble it back together.

is it really better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

tonight i could utter the saddest word ever, and it says your name.

All Over Again

Day 28 of NaPoWriMo

Today’s (optional) prompt is to write a concrete poem. Like acrostic poems, concrete poems are a favorite for grade-school writing assignments, so this may not be your first time at the concrete-poem rodeo. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem. For example, May Swenson’s poem “Women” mimics curves, reinforcing the poem’s references to motion, rocking horses, and even the shape of a woman’s body. George Starbuck’s “Sonnet in the Shape of a Potted Christmas Tree” is – you guessed it – a sonnet in the shape of a potted Christmas tree. Your concrete poem could be complexly-shaped, but relatively simple strategies can also be “concrete” —  like a poem involving a staircase where the length of the lines grows or shrinks over time, like an ascending (or descending) set of stairs.

Happy writing!

my concrete poem above, in case WP messes up with my form 😄

Sublime Love

Day 27 NaPoWriMo

Sublime Love

i miss seeing you making breakfast with a smile
asking me to hold my hunger for a while
with each pancake you make, there’s an unusual story at stake.

i remember you telling me coffee is a must to get through the day fast
with every sip you make words of wisdom you narrate.

you look so charming and brilliant as you read the newspaper daily
and i will never forget,  i am the apple of your eyes, you always say.

i wanna come home to a sweet afternoon nutella sandwich snacks
with you leaving post it notes on our front door with “i love you, dinner is on the table”.

i wanna hear you again hum your favorite  songs as you try to make sense with my Art projects all along.
i wanna be swooned by how your eyes glow by the mere mention of a lovestory so true.

and i am the luckiest i get your purest most sublime love
not motivated by necessity, not conditioned by self – interest, even by DNA.

it’s been over a decade dad, and i hope you could hear me when i say
i wish you had stayed longer, for i sure need you right now.

for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt:

Family

day 26 of NaPoWriMo 💛💫

what does it really take, to be a family?

a mother?

a father?

a sister?

or a brother?

will that single scientific bond called DNA be enough?

or is it a requirement?

but what happens when apart  from that scientific bond called DNA
nothing binds you anymore?

what if that basic molecule contains nothing but the instructions an individual needs?

to develop?

to live?

we need more than just DNA to belong

there is the need for someone to be loved unconditionally in spite of

there is the need for someone to be valued and cherished when things are not easy

to belong, to be one, that is family; for life, our forever, our promise.

Mikaela

Day 25 of NaPoWriMo – Today’s (optional) prompt is based on the aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights, or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe you will be addressed by the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves. Whatever form your dream-visitor takes, happy writing!

For Sadje’s WDYS: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/04/25/what-do-you-see-131-april-252022/

Mikaela

i’ve never lost sight of you lately, in my dreams and in people i see
you’re the one thing my heart’s been crying for months now
with tears in my eyes i saw you walked me through my own childhood
the games that children play, to which i failed to do
’twas so fun seeing you skip and hop; shout and yell.

you were there too maybe when i was talking to a friend one afternoon
as i couldn’t get you off my mind, you keep coming out through my words
the things we would have done together, and the places we would have visited sooner
the friends and relatives you would have met around
would surely be happy and gay just by mere mention of you.

one night you showed me how your growing days would be
carefree and jolly, that’s how you want your days woud be
you walked me through the playground you wish to go
with the slides and the swing; you taught me to be play along
i swear i’d do everything just to keep you and see you smile all along
i swear i’d be keeping you company in all that you wanna do
i swear to be fun around.

i never lost sight of you and i never i wanted to, for i got your name
tattoed in my heart, in my mind and in my soul
you will be loved and remembered wherever you are
just promise me, you visit me always in my dream
show me places you’ve been to, show me things you’ve done.

make me the happiest by witnessing you become the wonderful woman i’ve always thought you’d be
losing you is tantamount to losing one pontentially good human being
come back anytime soon let’s read my favorite childhood books
let’s master multiple wordgames or we could play hide and seek; a game mama failed to do as a child.

but first let me start by calling you Mikaela, which means “one who is like God”.

Danger Zone

Day 24 of NaPoWriMo…Today, I’d like to challenge you to channel your inner gumshoe, and write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile. Feel free to use just one, or try to go for broke and stuff your poem with similes till it’s . . . as dense as bread baked by a plumber, as round as the eyes of a girl who wants you to think she’s never heard such language, and as easy to miss as a brass band in a cathedral.

Danger Zone

his perfume smells murder in the coming even from two blocks away you’ll be churning.

his built reads like a “danger” sign when crossing a bridge under renovation.

he carries a tone of excitement as crazy as a tornado crashing a building.

and his eyes, oh! his eyes its burning like a California wild fire.

not to forget his love is red flag waving war and distraction.

an absolute peril to a woman craving for affection.

Doormat

Day 23 NaPoWriMo, Today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms. Once you’ve read a few, you’ll see what I mean. Here’s her “Token Loss,” “Blue China Doorknob,” “Houdini,” and “Crustacean Island.”

Doormat

doormats are used
to dish dirt outside
trap dangerous germs
from entering the
actual main house
placed in a doorway,
on which we can wipe
our shoes on entering
any facility. what happens
when you allow others
to dominate you?
you are either a
living saint
or a doormat.

Pitter- Patter

Day 22 NaPoWriMo

In honor of today’s being the 22nd day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of thing

Pitter- Patter

i said i love you
you said i love you more

i whispered i miss you
you whispered back i miss you more

i said i do love you really
you said i do love you really more

we could beat rappers
vying for rap beat titles

even the pitter- patter of raindrops
with our unending exchange of “more”

we love unconditionally as evident
in our words and affection

and at the same time we could be
pretty mess up on some occassions

for like mirrors we see the beauty
yet it we become deadly when broken

Cliche

Day 21 NaPoWriMo

Cliche

i’ll begin with a cliche
love truly hurts, so damn bad
for it’s true what they say
when all is said and done
grief is the price we pay for love
at least i have my poetry
to truly call my own
one who never leaves my side
come rain or sunshine
come holidays or weekends
i have my words
to silence my thoughts
to tamper my grieving soul
one who never thinks its sarcasm
one who believes in what i say
at least i have my poetic meter
one who measures the rhythm of my heart
one who  filters unwararranted tension
and when all is said and done
when everything else has been written
i could just dive, dive into oblivion
hang on with silence and
be friends with indifference.

Burn

Burn

there is nothing i can do when my mind
is going crazy torrid
heated, burning like a hot mid summer day
there is nothing i can do when my heart
is going crazy wild
running faster than the wind could blow
a dandelion away
and it’s all because of you
of your thoughtless, unfeeling consideration
of matters around
so don’t you ever wonder baby
if one day
i become a wildfire;
unstoppable, unyeilding
bouyant, rebellious
for now i can only hope that
a few more dew drops could settle
the growing fire in my heart
i hope
i pray
before it even burn you.

for Eugi’s Prompt