GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXIV: On the Death of Lazarus

Today NaPoWriMo challenges us to write an Elegy – a poem typically in remembrance of someone who has left this mortal veil, except with a tone of hopefulness. That’s an innately beautiful thought, and one that might even be hardcoded into the human animal – the thought of bright lights, of a place beyond the darkness. And whether its real or not, it’s a nice thought. And there are fewer of those in the world than there should be.

As for my poem today… well, there are many kinds of death… and many kind of hope…

Goodnight sweet prince
You wonderfully naive soul
Farewell to your brave heart
That once made mine whole

I can fondly remember
The stupid smile on your silly face
I’ll never forget
What you’ve tried so to erase

They say fools rush in
And you were never any exception
Deceit and subterfuge and betrayal
Were always beyond your perception

You lived a dozen lifetimes
So often died and resurrected
But this too did pass
And in the end each is bested

I feel you less and less now
With each passing day and year
Not gone, not entirely
But not as quite here

Your trials taught me well
And though I am not man you were
I will try to honour your lives
Your lessons I will not spur

Forgive me if I falter
If I cannot open my heart as you did
I am scared where you were not
My spring not undiluted

Lazarus you were the best of us
And now gone you are missed
Your shadow hangs over me
Your spirit not yet dismissed

Goodbye is not forever
Though I do not know, I have faith
One day we’ll see each other again
Whether mortal flesh or ethereal wraith

Goodnight sweet prince
Farewell my friend
And may we never say goodbye
If you ever rise again

 

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GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXIII: End of the Board

For today’s NaPoWriMo prompt inspired poem I went with a phrase I overheard at work… While I started writing with the intent of penning a 2-4 verser, somehow it just ended up feeling like it was meant to be a short one…

When will my turn come
End of the Board

Why does the world burn
End of the Board

Where will my blood fall
Replied the hoard
End of the Board
End of the Board

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXII: Done the Impossible

Have you ever seen
A clock that strikes thirteen
Would you believe me if I told you
That such a thing had been

It was on February 31st
At just past mid-day
The sun was about to set
And the pigs were flying away

I’d just woken from my day at work
And a frigid summer breeze was blowing
The TV was set to TNT
And episode 14 of Firefly was showing

I looked upon my Grandson Clock
Its wings struck by a moon beam
And as I saw its gentle hand strike
I woke from a peculiar dream

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXI: Narcissus and His Reflection

Today NaPoWriMo challenges us to be inspired by the myth of Narcissus (an interesting and somewhat morbid one if you’re inclined to read up on it). While their examples rather openly target the “cult of the celebrity”, as well as the ingrained narcissism of modern generations, I thought I might try something closer to the source.

Hello there beautiful
Where have you been all this while
I’ve searched all my life
For such a beautiful smile

Why are you so shy
Why hide in this frigid lake
Come out and take my hand
What a gorgeous pair we’ll make

Don’t you see you’ve stolen my heart
None in the land is as fair
Without you even one more moment
I do not think I could bear

I see your eyes gazing into mine
I see how they adore me
And I adore them just as much
What more sign of love could there be

You are shy, keeping me waiting
But for you I shall wait always
I’ll sit here by your side every night
On this bank I’ll spend all of my days

I am entranced, I am bewitched
I am betrothed to you and no other
Take me, heart and soul and body
Take me, as confidant, soul mate and lover

I hear them call me away
Let them beat their chests in vain
In your face I have found true love
And in your reflection I’ll forever remain

 

 

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XX: Breaking Free (Form)

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is all about rebellion… something I’m not terribly familair with.

It’s not that I haven’t broken a rule or two in my life. I dare say I’m not really as straight laced or “white bread” as I was in my school days (man was I a teacher’s pet!) But I never really had a “rebellious phase”. I partied, stayed out late, even got inked. But my parents mostly gave me the space and the patience to do my own thing, make my own mistakes.

So with that avenue out, lets go with another kind of rebellion (as suggested by today’s prompt)… The well known saying goes that “some rules are meant to be broken”. So lets break some rules.

Sitting quietly
I wait for my turn to speak
But that turn will never come
And I’ll get stress marks on my bum

Arguendo and
Innuendo fly across
A room full of suits
With their shiny black boots

Sleep of night before
Calling me back to its arms
Gotta pop to an offie
And get myself a coffee

Eyes tired

I walk

In waking dreams

And my thoughts

Drift

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GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXIX: Rollercoaster

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt makes me think about the phrase ‘lost in translation’. Not because I’m literally “translating” from one language to another (an exercise NaPoWriMo has prompted before with strange and sometimes humorous results) – More because I don’t know if this distilled product is at all representative of what I started out with. But in the end it is what has come out of it. And perhaps therein lies the purpose. (Did that sound a bit pretentious? Coz I feel like maybe it sounded a bit pretentious ; P)

 

We met
Week before classes started
Naught

Didn’t really notice her
She got with someone else
A guy’s-guy. Handsome. White
Lot of things I wasn’t

Then
I remember
the night
All dressed up
Make up. The works
Just had eyes for her

Grew closer
More than her
Heart started to fall
Didn’t see me that way
They never do

In time she saw, desirable qualities
But I don’t know
Actually “desirable”
I wasn’t like the others
Instant
Maybe she settled

Always felt
Held back
Thought I didn’t think
She was beautiful
So wrong
Couldn’t get her to
Something missing
That instant attraction
Lack there of

I wish I believed
She believed me
Don’t regret much
Regret that
Never… one
Piece missing

Don’t talk about us
Too painful
Hurt too much to hear
The truth
That was part of it
Didn’t talk
Didn’t open up

I was smitten
Remember that
I’ll never believe
She was too

 

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XXVIII: “Heightened Discomfort”

Pain pain
Go away
And don’t come again
Another day

You’re making me cranky
You’re making me mad
And when I tell my friends
You make them sad

Pain pain
Go away
You’re quite the bother
I’ve got to say

You make me tired
You make me slow
You make me beg
When will you go

Pain pain
Go away
I just can’t deal with
You today

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XVII: Running Away From Home

For the life of me I can’t think of a family anecdote. I mean there must be dozens, hundreds even. But for some reason when I saw the NaPoWriMo prompt today my mind just drew a blank; and continues to do so. The one thought that did pop into my head was an amusing one though. It’s apparently a short little story of childhood hubris. I even remember it being published in the school magazine when I wrote about in Class/Grade 3 or 4. Sadly I don’t have the original to share. But, since we do live in the golden age of reboots…

(And do try to remember this is from the perspective of a 6-7 year old)

 

RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME

I’ve had enough of this
I’m supposed to be the favourite
How dare they ignore my tantrum
And leave before I can savour it

I’m supposed to get the attention
Coz I’m the biggest boy
I’m supposed to get the sweets
The first pick of the toys

I’ll teach them all to ignore me
I’ll run away and hide
Then  they’ll regret not doting
Then I’ll make them cry

I’ll pack my tiffin box
And I’ll get into my car
And by the time they notice
I’ll be so very far

Though there was a small flaw in my plan
Upon which I did not arrive
I was sat in the back seat
Because I didn’t know how to drive

That’s where they found me an hour later
Where I’d sat without a peep
And they tried not to laugh or snigger
Because I was fast asleep

 

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XVI: The Game

It’s officially the second half of Glo/NaPoWriMo 2018. And I am officially starting to run on fumes. So until that blessed second wind kicks in, my offerings may be a little strained or uninspired. Apologies dear reader. But, even sans muse we carry on.

Day 16. Poem 16.

 

Watch them with their heads hanging low
Eyes transfixed on their screens
Don’t they seem a sorry lot
Addicted to their machines

Is what you’d say if you looked on
Without a hint or clue
Of what it is these players seek
What they’ve set out to do

From the youngest lads and lassies
To the wizened and mature
Trainers of all ages
Out on a grand tour

There are battlers, there are collectors
And some just along for fun
There are the social butterflies
And those that prefer solo runs

They tap, tap, tap their way to victory
Battling elements and pesky bugs
They celebrate with heartfelt grins
Commiserate with sorrowed shrugs

We may have different missions
Or different styles when it comes to this sport
In the end we’ll fighter together
Be you “Ground Infantry” or “Air Support”

This game we play may seem silly
To onlookers and passers-by
But we play for our own glory
We play for our team’s pride

This may seem just a game to you
A revival of a fad once was
But to catch them all is our test
To train them is our cause

 

GloPoWriMo 2018: Day XV: The Joke’s On Me

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt reminds me of a poem from a former challenge – An Ode to Batsy – honestly looking back it was one of my favourite prompt poems to write. And today’s challenge offers the opportunity to revisit it… and perhaps offer some more depth…

True the prompt probably imagined this a little different, but my mind can’t help but go to Alan Moore’s haunting yarn in ‘The Killing Joke’ (as well as the DC Animated feature starring the voice of my own personal God – Mark Hamill). So in honour of these greats, I offer this humble homage

 

You know I wasn’t always a clown prince
Once I was just a man
Hustling and struggling to get by
Living life on another’s demand

Instead of this beautiful grin before you
There were tired lines from a long day’s shlepp
And I was full of sad little dreams
Instead of my signature pep!

Instead of this gun pressed against this man’s temple
I probably had a briefcase and charts and a stamp
I probably never would have thought
Of turning a child’s skull into a reading lamp!

I probably had a wife who loved me…
Or some sort of family to call my own
Maybe I had a son named Timmy
Maybe… I had a home…

But it’s all so terribly blurry Batsy!
Not as clear as the blood on this knife!
Besides where’s the comedy?
In a son and a house and a wife!

I’m an entertainer extraordinaire!
I thrill and I awe and I chill
I’ll do anything for a standing ovation
I’ll maim and I’ll bludgeon and I’ll kill

It’s all such a colossal joke!
Every little thing these open eyes can see
But when I look, no one else is laughing, Bats
So I guess the joke’s on me