Poetry competition CLOSED 30th April 2024 5:12pm
A public vote has been requested
2024 Official DUP NaPoWriMo Challenge
24/30
Insanity
Bring me back to passion
All the things that I once knew
Lost in vain reactions
Broken serenades of failures point of view
Caught up in self traumas of fractures in routine
All the blessings I take for granted
Abusing every breath of the unseen
All the ways I’m disenchanted
Highs and lows, the ups and downs of empty praise
Compensations of heartache in writing
When struggle is just a phrase
I keep speaking like I’m fighting
In truth it all comes crashing
This fabricated narrative of me
The same things I’m rehashing
By definition of insanity
Over and over again I relive and I die
My heart on the altar pleading
All the things that I can’t seem to crucify
Open wounds still find me bleeding
Clouded eyes and lost horizons of hope
Swinging back and forth as I dangle from the end of my own rope
Another word in the chamber of my heart
When everything is hit and miss
Prayers to sanctify and restart
I believe but I’ve still got my Judas’ kiss
Love me past myself and inspire the change I long to see
Longing to become who you say I am but I’m afraid that I am me…
Insanity
Bring me back to passion
All the things that I once knew
Lost in vain reactions
Broken serenades of failures point of view
Caught up in self traumas of fractures in routine
All the blessings I take for granted
Abusing every breath of the unseen
All the ways I’m disenchanted
Highs and lows, the ups and downs of empty praise
Compensations of heartache in writing
When struggle is just a phrase
I keep speaking like I’m fighting
In truth it all comes crashing
This fabricated narrative of me
The same things I’m rehashing
By definition of insanity
Over and over again I relive and I die
My heart on the altar pleading
All the things that I can’t seem to crucify
Open wounds still find me bleeding
Clouded eyes and lost horizons of hope
Swinging back and forth as I dangle from the end of my own rope
Another word in the chamber of my heart
When everything is hit and miss
Prayers to sanctify and restart
I believe but I’ve still got my Judas’ kiss
Love me past myself and inspire the change I long to see
Longing to become who you say I am but I’m afraid that I am me…
24/30
disregard
he said,
"I will call YOU
after meeting....."
and I wait every day,
I console myself,
that he will be busy,
his work is such
that he may not be
able to get time,
by the way,
he posts stories on Instagram,
he puts nature's pick on it
but maybe... he is looking
for the right time for me,
well he is the same person,
who used to talk to me
a year ago
who met me
who kissed my lips
who decorated my breasts
with his saliva,
I have kept
those silky moments alive
inside me,
he ignores me
still I think that
even while doing this,
i think...he still thinks
the right thing for me,
I have always accepted
that white image with positivity
I never felt any negative energy
about him
and that evening,
months later, when I tried to call him,
I discovered that he had blocked me
I had sent him several text messages
over the past months,
hoping he read me,,Secretly...
he has strong feelings for me
every day I bargain with
dreams in this hope,
from morning to evening,
from evening to night and
back from night to morning...
disregard
he said,
"I will call YOU
after meeting....."
and I wait every day,
I console myself,
that he will be busy,
his work is such
that he may not be
able to get time,
by the way,
he posts stories on Instagram,
he puts nature's pick on it
but maybe... he is looking
for the right time for me,
well he is the same person,
who used to talk to me
a year ago
who met me
who kissed my lips
who decorated my breasts
with his saliva,
I have kept
those silky moments alive
inside me,
he ignores me
still I think that
even while doing this,
i think...he still thinks
the right thing for me,
I have always accepted
that white image with positivity
I never felt any negative energy
about him
and that evening,
months later, when I tried to call him,
I discovered that he had blocked me
I had sent him several text messages
over the past months,
hoping he read me,,Secretly...
he has strong feelings for me
every day I bargain with
dreams in this hope,
from morning to evening,
from evening to night and
back from night to morning...
24/30
MANY MILES FROM HOME
My eight-year old self, many miles from home
stuck at boarding school in constant overwhelm
bewildered, tries to come through on his own
Clock-driven bell-ringing at the helm
blue dorm, thirty-two boys, rise at seven
stuck at boarding school in constant overwhelm
Chapel before lessons, think of heaven
bell rings for maths and later for break
blue dorm, thirty-two boys, rise at seven
School: hundred and sixty boys — strict rules make
for little time free of ‘noise'— no space to be …
a bell rings for games and later for break
Eight-year old self still gets triggered — I’m he
who, despite adult care, has meltdowns — can’t cope
still squeezes out free-time — no space to be
Sixty years on, exhausted … what hope?
my eight-year old self, many miles from home
despite adult care, has melt-downs, can’t cope
bewildered, tries make it through on his own.
MANY MILES FROM HOME
My eight-year old self, many miles from home
stuck at boarding school in constant overwhelm
bewildered, tries to come through on his own
Clock-driven bell-ringing at the helm
blue dorm, thirty-two boys, rise at seven
stuck at boarding school in constant overwhelm
Chapel before lessons, think of heaven
bell rings for maths and later for break
blue dorm, thirty-two boys, rise at seven
School: hundred and sixty boys — strict rules make
for little time free of ‘noise'— no space to be …
a bell rings for games and later for break
Eight-year old self still gets triggered — I’m he
who, despite adult care, has meltdowns — can’t cope
still squeezes out free-time — no space to be
Sixty years on, exhausted … what hope?
my eight-year old self, many miles from home
despite adult care, has melt-downs, can’t cope
bewildered, tries make it through on his own.
24/30
Rwanda Policy
dont dare
seek asylum
migrating
over water
will deliver you
as a criminal
escaping persecution
no excuse
nothing beneficial
coming here
we care little
for your plight
stifling freedom
is our stance
forget coherent
truth
after marching
thesevdangerous paths
find shutters up
and not wrlcome signs
cold indifference
creates better barriers
open hatred disguised
under law
twenty first century nazis
thriving within government
Unique Words 63
Rwanda Policy
dont dare
seek asylum
migrating
over water
will deliver you
as a criminal
escaping persecution
no excuse
nothing beneficial
coming here
we care little
for your plight
stifling freedom
is our stance
forget coherent
truth
after marching
thesevdangerous paths
find shutters up
and not wrlcome signs
cold indifference
creates better barriers
open hatred disguised
under law
twenty first century nazis
thriving within government
Unique Words 63
24 of 30
unwritten endings
I watched him walk away
with a distinct air of unfinished business
didn't even glance over his shoulder
no indication he ever would
but I felt the later in his departure
my mind began to tremble
while my heart skipped a beat
like a poem that ends in the middle of a stanza...
...just left me hanging
there's no letting go without closure
I simply had to keep it moving
do the best I could to focus on the present
while hope kept poking me in the back
the silent emptiness continually kicking me in the ass
he went on with his life while I fumbled through mine
I didn't try to hold onto the past
refused to wait for any nebulous future
but I always knew he'd show up again
his shadow gracing my doorstep
reclaiming those dangling heartstrings
& caressing my unhealed pain
seeing him go...saying nothing...
...no begging...no recriminations
...refusing to close my eyes on his retreat
...one of the hardest moments of my life
especially with that sense of temporary
haunting my broken dreams
maybe...just perhaps...
his return might one day write our incomplete verse
giving it finality
unwritten endings
I watched him walk away
with a distinct air of unfinished business
didn't even glance over his shoulder
no indication he ever would
but I felt the later in his departure
my mind began to tremble
while my heart skipped a beat
like a poem that ends in the middle of a stanza...
...just left me hanging
there's no letting go without closure
I simply had to keep it moving
do the best I could to focus on the present
while hope kept poking me in the back
the silent emptiness continually kicking me in the ass
he went on with his life while I fumbled through mine
I didn't try to hold onto the past
refused to wait for any nebulous future
but I always knew he'd show up again
his shadow gracing my doorstep
reclaiming those dangling heartstrings
& caressing my unhealed pain
seeing him go...saying nothing...
...no begging...no recriminations
...refusing to close my eyes on his retreat
...one of the hardest moments of my life
especially with that sense of temporary
haunting my broken dreams
maybe...just perhaps...
his return might one day write our incomplete verse
giving it finality
24/30
Sunlight
Morning had the coffee on,
the car defrosting on the drive,
she was ready to leave.
How much longer do you need ?
she hollered into the house
but the family wasn't up.
What time is it asked Rain
scratching his balls in the kitchen doorway,
go back to bed your not in today.
and please tell your sister
to get out of the bathroom,
those teeth cant get any brighter.
Wind burst in grabbed some toast
and shot out the door, Hey you.
I know, go slow, don't worry I'll be gentle.
Snow was trying to warm himself by the stove.
Chop chop, get a move on
your taxi to the north will be here any minute.
make sure Hale and Sleet
are with you when you leave.
Morning crept back into her bedroom,
We're leaving now dear, sleep tight
Night growled something dark
then turned over.
Young lady I am leaving with or without you !
The bathroom door swung open
flooding the house in light
Just as Morning pulled on her sunglasses.
I don't need breakfast said Sunlight
walking out the door to the waiting press.
Hello boys she flirted
Get in the car Morning said firmly
Sorry boys, later
You do know how beautiful I make you look
don't you mother?
Yes dear, now say hello to Mist he's working in the fields
Oh I'm going to make him sparkle.
Hi Mist love you, you're welcome.
Sunlight
Morning had the coffee on,
the car defrosting on the drive,
she was ready to leave.
How much longer do you need ?
she hollered into the house
but the family wasn't up.
What time is it asked Rain
scratching his balls in the kitchen doorway,
go back to bed your not in today.
and please tell your sister
to get out of the bathroom,
those teeth cant get any brighter.
Wind burst in grabbed some toast
and shot out the door, Hey you.
I know, go slow, don't worry I'll be gentle.
Snow was trying to warm himself by the stove.
Chop chop, get a move on
your taxi to the north will be here any minute.
make sure Hale and Sleet
are with you when you leave.
Morning crept back into her bedroom,
We're leaving now dear, sleep tight
Night growled something dark
then turned over.
Young lady I am leaving with or without you !
The bathroom door swung open
flooding the house in light
Just as Morning pulled on her sunglasses.
I don't need breakfast said Sunlight
walking out the door to the waiting press.
Hello boys she flirted
Get in the car Morning said firmly
Sorry boys, later
You do know how beautiful I make you look
don't you mother?
Yes dear, now say hello to Mist he's working in the fields
Oh I'm going to make him sparkle.
Hi Mist love you, you're welcome.
xxiv
Untitled
Life is a dark jungle
hiding gifts of danger
behind fresh scents
of wood and pineapple
Owning naught but itself
it is unfettered
by human idealists
swinging their machetes
It merely grows back
retakes its belonging
when man moves on
We poets crawl blindly
through cobwebs and blossoms
risking potential poison
and death from an Earth
we take for granted
We know why our soul
lingers in the underbrush
of possibility’s touch
when given a chance
once a month
Seeking the abducted
moments of inspired verse
we forgo treasure
of silver and gold
meant to sustain us—
materialistic traps
coveted by most
Not us
We Poets don’t mine
for earthly riches
but rise above expectation
Our sustenance tonight
is celestial alone:
The exposed breast
of the Full Moon
Untitled
Life is a dark jungle
hiding gifts of danger
behind fresh scents
of wood and pineapple
Owning naught but itself
it is unfettered
by human idealists
swinging their machetes
It merely grows back
retakes its belonging
when man moves on
We poets crawl blindly
through cobwebs and blossoms
risking potential poison
and death from an Earth
we take for granted
We know why our soul
lingers in the underbrush
of possibility’s touch
when given a chance
once a month
Seeking the abducted
moments of inspired verse
we forgo treasure
of silver and gold
meant to sustain us—
materialistic traps
coveted by most
Not us
We Poets don’t mine
for earthly riches
but rise above expectation
Our sustenance tonight
is celestial alone:
The exposed breast
of the Full Moon
24/30
nobody
Things never really go as planned,
Do they?
Especially in the wasteland.
As prepared as I tried to be –
My stock of supplies, support from people who took me in –
On paper I know the place,
Know what I have to do to
Go where I want to go.
I stare up at the single incandescent bulb –
Trying to fight the nausea,
My vision a bit blurred as I ground
Myself to the cold floor,
My face against the coolness of
An old metal locker.
Rad-sickness, my pip-boy said.
And Doc had warned me about this, too.
For a second,
I thought,
“Is this the way you go?”
Got out, survived enough to reach safety,
Stay long enough to be
Prepared enough to get out again – and
Here you are. Still lucky enough to find
An abandoned shack in the middle of
Nowhere –
But still.
Might be fitting for a nobody.
Not that the people back in town weren't fond of me –
But…it just –
Wasn't.
I just
Wasn't.
Another second,
“It's not like they’ll miss me
Much. Those back in the old
Place, they probably don't.
Might be for the better.
Might be for the better.”
Die by a glowing drink churning,
Burning,
Your insides. At least, for once,
You aren't
All darkness, right?
The light of the bulb flickers,
I feel the rad-away kicking in –
Enough to hear the radio,
Faint from the other room.
“It's me again, Mr. New Vegas,
reminding you that you're nobody
'til somebody loves you.
And that somebody is me.
I love you.”
I closed my eyes as sleep pulled me under.
And if tears fell from my eyes,
By morning,
They’d be gone.
nobody
Things never really go as planned,
Do they?
Especially in the wasteland.
As prepared as I tried to be –
My stock of supplies, support from people who took me in –
On paper I know the place,
Know what I have to do to
Go where I want to go.
I stare up at the single incandescent bulb –
Trying to fight the nausea,
My vision a bit blurred as I ground
Myself to the cold floor,
My face against the coolness of
An old metal locker.
Rad-sickness, my pip-boy said.
And Doc had warned me about this, too.
For a second,
I thought,
“Is this the way you go?”
Got out, survived enough to reach safety,
Stay long enough to be
Prepared enough to get out again – and
Here you are. Still lucky enough to find
An abandoned shack in the middle of
Nowhere –
But still.
Might be fitting for a nobody.
Not that the people back in town weren't fond of me –
But…it just –
Wasn't.
I just
Wasn't.
Another second,
“It's not like they’ll miss me
Much. Those back in the old
Place, they probably don't.
Might be for the better.
Might be for the better.”
Die by a glowing drink churning,
Burning,
Your insides. At least, for once,
You aren't
All darkness, right?
The light of the bulb flickers,
I feel the rad-away kicking in –
Enough to hear the radio,
Faint from the other room.
“It's me again, Mr. New Vegas,
reminding you that you're nobody
'til somebody loves you.
And that somebody is me.
I love you.”
I closed my eyes as sleep pulled me under.
And if tears fell from my eyes,
By morning,
They’d be gone.
24/30
Drunken Haze
Rainbows in my drink
Vibrant and inviting
Sparkle alluringly making me
take that sip of sweet release
My mind fixates on fantasies
Always unfulfilled but so desired
Alone in these moments yet
never ever lonely, I find the love I seek
His only feature are his eyes
and just a single presence,
virile and quiet
Communication is through his actions and eyes, those eyes - penetrating
Piercing my soul such that my rainbow filled drink sloshes in the glass
Reminding me that fantasies are never fulfilled as he diminishes with each sip
65 u/w
Drunken Haze
Rainbows in my drink
Vibrant and inviting
Sparkle alluringly making me
take that sip of sweet release
My mind fixates on fantasies
Always unfulfilled but so desired
Alone in these moments yet
never ever lonely, I find the love I seek
His only feature are his eyes
and just a single presence,
virile and quiet
Communication is through his actions and eyes, those eyes - penetrating
Piercing my soul such that my rainbow filled drink sloshes in the glass
Reminding me that fantasies are never fulfilled as he diminishes with each sip
65 u/w
#24/30
Silence
Silence is a crime
When there is injustice
When there is abuse of power
When there is manipulation
Silence is a crime
When people's rights
Are not recognized
When people's voices
Are not heard
When people are not free
To exercise their right
In a society
Silence is a form of assent
It is complicit to injustice
A deterrent to truth and justice
What's the use of having a voice
When you cannot speak and be heard
What's the use of having rights
When you cannot use them to your advantage
And to save yourself
What's the use of having laws
When people who swore
To uphold it
Cannot implement and live by it
In our society
Where there is a wide gap
Between rich and poor
Silence is the only way
To stay alive and be safe
In the face of injustice
Silence
Silence is a crime
When there is injustice
When there is abuse of power
When there is manipulation
Silence is a crime
When people's rights
Are not recognized
When people's voices
Are not heard
When people are not free
To exercise their right
In a society
Silence is a form of assent
It is complicit to injustice
A deterrent to truth and justice
What's the use of having a voice
When you cannot speak and be heard
What's the use of having rights
When you cannot use them to your advantage
And to save yourself
What's the use of having laws
When people who swore
To uphold it
Cannot implement and live by it
In our society
Where there is a wide gap
Between rich and poor
Silence is the only way
To stay alive and be safe
In the face of injustice
24/30
Inconducive
Dropped a shiny nickel down a well
Hoping for a splash
Hearing a kerplunk
What???
I should have known
expected this arid bit
no more energy
for no more spit
Been getting by on
perhaps, due to the well
having been dug deeper
from a hole an “Alice”
fell into chasing rabbits
or wishful dreams
(thinking)
I wish I was thinking
then I wouldn’t have to
ruminate something
out of thin musty old
air in the depths of
my ancient history
buried in a billabong
O well………..
68 unique words
Inconducive
Dropped a shiny nickel down a well
Hoping for a splash
Hearing a kerplunk
What???
I should have known
expected this arid bit
no more energy
for no more spit
Been getting by on
perhaps, due to the well
having been dug deeper
from a hole an “Alice”
fell into chasing rabbits
or wishful dreams
(thinking)
I wish I was thinking
then I wouldn’t have to
ruminate something
out of thin musty old
air in the depths of
my ancient history
buried in a billabong
O well………..
68 unique words
24/30
So, You Want to Try Your Hand at Blank Verse
Dear Bill,
Before you start to write in verse that’s blank
it’s vital that you learn iambic feet.
“Iambic feet?” you ask, then scratch your chin.
“Iambic feet,” I say, “must march along:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.
This poem’s written in iambic feet.”
“So what exactly is a foot?” you ask,
“when talking poetry and writing it?”
A foot contains one beat in metered forms:
most often it involves a ti and tum,
and since you want to write blank verse, we’ll use
iambic feet in strict pentameter.
“Pentameter?” you sigh and hang your head.
“Pentameter,” I smile and carry on,
“just means you need five feet in every line:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.”
You do not need to fret about your rhymes,
because this form does not require such things.
Just chant the march as you begin to write:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.
Sometimes it’s hard to get your syntax right,
so please ensure you keep that syntax straight.
Around your words, don’t twist in tangled knots,
or you’ll sound strange – just like the line above.
To sum it up, remember these three things:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM,
you do not need to fret about your rhymes,
and please ensure you keep the syntax straight.
Lots of love,
Daisy
So, You Want to Try Your Hand at Blank Verse
Dear Bill,
Before you start to write in verse that’s blank
it’s vital that you learn iambic feet.
“Iambic feet?” you ask, then scratch your chin.
“Iambic feet,” I say, “must march along:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.
This poem’s written in iambic feet.”
“So what exactly is a foot?” you ask,
“when talking poetry and writing it?”
A foot contains one beat in metered forms:
most often it involves a ti and tum,
and since you want to write blank verse, we’ll use
iambic feet in strict pentameter.
“Pentameter?” you sigh and hang your head.
“Pentameter,” I smile and carry on,
“just means you need five feet in every line:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.”
You do not need to fret about your rhymes,
because this form does not require such things.
Just chant the march as you begin to write:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM.
Sometimes it’s hard to get your syntax right,
so please ensure you keep that syntax straight.
Around your words, don’t twist in tangled knots,
or you’ll sound strange – just like the line above.
To sum it up, remember these three things:
ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM, ti TUM,
you do not need to fret about your rhymes,
and please ensure you keep the syntax straight.
Lots of love,
Daisy
24/30
Mentatstasis
Waxing on numeric
cold analytics tinged
with regret and doubt
never sufficed in the long run
when planning never ceases
direction never emerges
and beginnings stall
perhaps the key is to let go
of what makes sense
and fits an equation
and to just initiate
in the blink of an eye
what took years to plan
and rumimate about
to let logic fall away
to let your dreams
steer you like formless
ghosts in a machine
and all things being equal
just let that be enough
and the outcome not
be a sum of parts but
a path of totality
71 uw
Mentatstasis
Waxing on numeric
cold analytics tinged
with regret and doubt
never sufficed in the long run
when planning never ceases
direction never emerges
and beginnings stall
perhaps the key is to let go
of what makes sense
and fits an equation
and to just initiate
in the blink of an eye
what took years to plan
and rumimate about
to let logic fall away
to let your dreams
steer you like formless
ghosts in a machine
and all things being equal
just let that be enough
and the outcome not
be a sum of parts but
a path of totality
71 uw
24/30
Bubbles
the water’s gone cold
and I want to get out, but
reality has grown heavy, I’m
stuck beneath myself;
the weight of the world is
threatening me with bitterness;
I ask, in earnest:
how many more times
will I sink to the bottom
and hope to rise renewed,
lighter and finally ready?
It’s time to pull the plug,
cast my cares into the vortex
let it all circle the drain
Bubbles
the water’s gone cold
and I want to get out, but
reality has grown heavy, I’m
stuck beneath myself;
the weight of the world is
threatening me with bitterness;
I ask, in earnest:
how many more times
will I sink to the bottom
and hope to rise renewed,
lighter and finally ready?
It’s time to pull the plug,
cast my cares into the vortex
let it all circle the drain
24/30
Transfiguration
I’m looking back
over my shoulder
but the view has now
changed…
I can no longer be
who I used to be
a new me must be
made…
Making peace with mistakes
of yesteryear
I am no longer
afraid…
Focused on my values
taking a fresh direction
and learning from the
old…
Painting me with
novel brush strokes
kneading clay into the
mold…
Rising from the ashes
of my former life
building a brand new
home…
…I am writing a brand new Poem…
Transfiguration
I’m looking back
over my shoulder
but the view has now
changed…
I can no longer be
who I used to be
a new me must be
made…
Making peace with mistakes
of yesteryear
I am no longer
afraid…
Focused on my values
taking a fresh direction
and learning from the
old…
Painting me with
novel brush strokes
kneading clay into the
mold…
Rising from the ashes
of my former life
building a brand new
home…
…I am writing a brand new Poem…
