Poetry competition CLOSED 30th April 2024 5:12pm
A public vote has been requested
2024 Official DUP NaPoWriMo Challenge
29/30
Soul Mate
As I rest my head on your shoulder
I wish I could zip off my skin
And let my soul emerge
In yours
Intertwining currents
Separation is by far
the most unbearable curse
A soul must fare
For in the afterlife
We blend as one
Wholly together again
But for now our breathe aligns
And your form melts into mine
And the remnants of the particles
We have exchanged dance like
Air igniting fire
{59 unique words}
Soul Mate
As I rest my head on your shoulder
I wish I could zip off my skin
And let my soul emerge
In yours
Intertwining currents
Separation is by far
the most unbearable curse
A soul must fare
For in the afterlife
We blend as one
Wholly together again
But for now our breathe aligns
And your form melts into mine
And the remnants of the particles
We have exchanged dance like
Air igniting fire
{59 unique words}
29/30
Rx
Remedy for heartbreak
If only there was such a thing
Finding solace in anything
has its merits but…
What of the consequences there-in
Fore’ there are always some
intended or not
The poor sods wishing us happy
feel it most, never the ones
claiming the seek
I wish you well sojourner of desire
You’ll never realize you had it already
51 u/w
Rx
Remedy for heartbreak
If only there was such a thing
Finding solace in anything
has its merits but…
What of the consequences there-in
Fore’ there are always some
intended or not
The poor sods wishing us happy
feel it most, never the ones
claiming the seek
I wish you well sojourner of desire
You’ll never realize you had it already
51 u/w
29/30
Who am I?
I was there in the beginning
and I will be there at the end.
I am present throughout time and space,
and to the ends of the Earth.
I exist in other parts of the universe;
also in heaven and in hell,
inside and outside,
and within everybody.
I am in your home,
although not among the doors and windows,
and I am particular
about the rooms I inhabit.
You cannot see me
and many people do not know of me,
but I exist inside their heart.
Who am I?
Who am I?
I was there in the beginning
and I will be there at the end.
I am present throughout time and space,
and to the ends of the Earth.
I exist in other parts of the universe;
also in heaven and in hell,
inside and outside,
and within everybody.
I am in your home,
although not among the doors and windows,
and I am particular
about the rooms I inhabit.
You cannot see me
and many people do not know of me,
but I exist inside their heart.
Who am I?
29 of 30
Nature’s claim.
In walking along forgotten lanes,
Where what remains,
Is nature's claim,
Wilderness seeps amongst the grains.
The amassing crooks of bracken,
Raise their masts,
Soon to flood the scenes,
In a tidal sea of summer green.
Deeper in, upon the moor,
Beyond the banks graced with,
Blooming thorns of gorse.
The tumbled stones,
Some scattered slate,
Spindrift wood of a high burn’s spate.
Are what remains,
Of different times.
From carving out a niche within,
To a confronted turn of thread.
And as before each other,
The steps return,
Cloven, pawed, grouse and more.
Out across the open moor,
The scattered signs of hare,
And tufts of some stag’s hair,
Lay caught within a heather snare.
It's always been nature's claim,
More than any agents name.
And in those,
Overlooked and marginal places,
Nature sows her seeds in place of ours,
Fills the furrows that once were tilled.
Mills her flowers,
In once grazen glades of green.
And slowly wakes from an exiled sleep,
Amongst the faithful weathers weep,
And the creeping willows,
Claim of steeps.
Nature’s claim.
In walking along forgotten lanes,
Where what remains,
Is nature's claim,
Wilderness seeps amongst the grains.
The amassing crooks of bracken,
Raise their masts,
Soon to flood the scenes,
In a tidal sea of summer green.
Deeper in, upon the moor,
Beyond the banks graced with,
Blooming thorns of gorse.
The tumbled stones,
Some scattered slate,
Spindrift wood of a high burn’s spate.
Are what remains,
Of different times.
From carving out a niche within,
To a confronted turn of thread.
And as before each other,
The steps return,
Cloven, pawed, grouse and more.
Out across the open moor,
The scattered signs of hare,
And tufts of some stag’s hair,
Lay caught within a heather snare.
It's always been nature's claim,
More than any agents name.
And in those,
Overlooked and marginal places,
Nature sows her seeds in place of ours,
Fills the furrows that once were tilled.
Mills her flowers,
In once grazen glades of green.
And slowly wakes from an exiled sleep,
Amongst the faithful weathers weep,
And the creeping willows,
Claim of steeps.
29/30
No Depth
It feels as though
faltering
on life’s exam
this is not me
not who I am
Have no doubt
stronger
than forces within
born to fight
where I begin
I am a warrior
engaging
battling my foe
albeit an opponent
I have come to know
I will uphold
advantage
only mine to forsake
never to happen
this win I shall take
Upper hand maintained
persevering
taking my time
no depth in your assault
victory mine
No Depth
It feels as though
faltering
on life’s exam
this is not me
not who I am
Have no doubt
stronger
than forces within
born to fight
where I begin
I am a warrior
engaging
battling my foe
albeit an opponent
I have come to know
I will uphold
advantage
only mine to forsake
never to happen
this win I shall take
Upper hand maintained
persevering
taking my time
no depth in your assault
victory mine
29/30
Zephyr
Passing through a bed of flowers
The gentle wind here blows
Ruffling petals in the breeze
With a sweet scent that flows
Wherever the current takes it
From this river to the meadow
Blossoms dance with vibrance
A breezy ambiance grows
The posies are an assortment
Some red, some pink, some yellow
Grateful for mother nature’s gifts
All that I can see from my window
Zephyr
Passing through a bed of flowers
The gentle wind here blows
Ruffling petals in the breeze
With a sweet scent that flows
Wherever the current takes it
From this river to the meadow
Blossoms dance with vibrance
A breezy ambiance grows
The posies are an assortment
Some red, some pink, some yellow
Grateful for mother nature’s gifts
All that I can see from my window
#29
Rhyme and no punishment
If you've got the rhyme
I've got a pun-ishment
for the word crime,
a little lyrical larceny like
borrowing a syllable or two
with tread oh so catlike,
steal some semblance
reappropriated on credit
to forge resemblance,
For if you've got the time
to indulge in a little act
of a linguistic word crime,
and other such misdemeanours
acquiring at four note discount
taking the meter to the cleaners.
(Unique words: 51)
Rhyme and no punishment
If you've got the rhyme
I've got a pun-ishment
for the word crime,
a little lyrical larceny like
borrowing a syllable or two
with tread oh so catlike,
steal some semblance
reappropriated on credit
to forge resemblance,
For if you've got the time
to indulge in a little act
of a linguistic word crime,
and other such misdemeanours
acquiring at four note discount
taking the meter to the cleaners.
(Unique words: 51)
29/30
Hand In The Box
Ancestral dregs
wear on the budding mind
forcing expansion
the wake up call imminent
in each ticking minute
we face the emmissary who knew
everything antiquity taught
fully cognizant and anticipant
of the way we are to emerge
unrobing all weakness and potential
we are expected to do the unlikely
and face the disappointment
of those we try to rise to
but in the darkest weakness
entrapped by our best asset
we just might do that
55 uw
Hand In The Box
Ancestral dregs
wear on the budding mind
forcing expansion
the wake up call imminent
in each ticking minute
we face the emmissary who knew
everything antiquity taught
fully cognizant and anticipant
of the way we are to emerge
unrobing all weakness and potential
we are expected to do the unlikely
and face the disappointment
of those we try to rise to
but in the darkest weakness
entrapped by our best asset
we just might do that
55 uw
30/30
The singing ringing tree
Strike the bell
blow loud your horns
for we return
this April morn
with golden fleece
and gorgons head,
a quest complete
despite the dead.
For thirty days
and thirty nights
each treacherous page
our poets write.
They tell the tales
of fought and slain
now home we sail
our prize to claim.
We've journeyed far
through sand and spice,
followed stars
when sand-worms bite.
Then so my friends
let us raise a glass,
unfurl the flags
we're here at last
and as the ink
drys one last time
back from the brink
we stand in line,
each medal pinned
on puffed out chests,
the queens and kings
of NaPo's quest.
The singing ringing tree
Strike the bell
blow loud your horns
for we return
this April morn
with golden fleece
and gorgons head,
a quest complete
despite the dead.
For thirty days
and thirty nights
each treacherous page
our poets write.
They tell the tales
of fought and slain
now home we sail
our prize to claim.
We've journeyed far
through sand and spice,
followed stars
when sand-worms bite.
Then so my friends
let us raise a glass,
unfurl the flags
we're here at last
and as the ink
drys one last time
back from the brink
we stand in line,
each medal pinned
on puffed out chests,
the queens and kings
of NaPo's quest.
29/30
DAMAGE CONTROL
They thought they had
It all under control
But nature has her special quid pro quo
The salmon always fought
The river’s tow
To find the place to nest their gentle roe
It took so long to build
But now we know
The best thing we can do is let it go
We made some cracks
And watched them grow
Now there is no chance to stop the flow
(54 uw)
DAMAGE CONTROL
They thought they had
It all under control
But nature has her special quid pro quo
The salmon always fought
The river’s tow
To find the place to nest their gentle roe
It took so long to build
But now we know
The best thing we can do is let it go
We made some cracks
And watched them grow
Now there is no chance to stop the flow
(54 uw)
29/30
Body
Every so often I’m reminded
of the fact that I have a body.
Today, it hurts.
It’s my own damn fault –
dashing through forest
up and down hills
over roots and mud
for over two hours
will do that to a body.
And I relish the feeling.
Not because I enjoy pain,
but because it means I’m still here
and I get to inhabit this miraculous form
that can smell peace in the spruce trees
see joy in ripples on the streams
and I get to test
what else it can achieve and endure.
Last fall, I ran my age in kilometres.
(a marathon plus a decade, if you must know)
Next month, I’ll try to exceed that,
just to see if I can.
It will hurt -- and I will survive.
Some day, this body will die –
if I’m lucky, through old age,
if not, maybe through disease or violence –
I didn’t get the memo about when or how.
All I know is
I will continue to explore
all that it is capable
of doing and experiencing
and I refuse to surrender
this precious gift to neglect.
Body
Every so often I’m reminded
of the fact that I have a body.
Today, it hurts.
It’s my own damn fault –
dashing through forest
up and down hills
over roots and mud
for over two hours
will do that to a body.
And I relish the feeling.
Not because I enjoy pain,
but because it means I’m still here
and I get to inhabit this miraculous form
that can smell peace in the spruce trees
see joy in ripples on the streams
and I get to test
what else it can achieve and endure.
Last fall, I ran my age in kilometres.
(a marathon plus a decade, if you must know)
Next month, I’ll try to exceed that,
just to see if I can.
It will hurt -- and I will survive.
Some day, this body will die –
if I’m lucky, through old age,
if not, maybe through disease or violence –
I didn’t get the memo about when or how.
All I know is
I will continue to explore
all that it is capable
of doing and experiencing
and I refuse to surrender
this precious gift to neglect.
30/30
Condemned
hanging around
like a
condemnèd man
waiting on
that noose
under this
black hood
my heart
is thumping
tho i'm
hardly breathing
oh silence
take me
home
end all
the torture
of life
bury each
painful memory
just release
everything
please
no more
enough
has been
done here
time
to let
it go
unique word count 53
Condemned
hanging around
like a
condemnèd man
waiting on
that noose
under this
black hood
my heart
is thumping
tho i'm
hardly breathing
oh silence
take me
home
end all
the torture
of life
bury each
painful memory
just release
everything
please
no more
enough
has been
done here
time
to let
it go
unique word count 53
29 of 30
Theme 3: Attitudes of Life
april song 29—all my love
frivolity doth not attend true love
that hath his own integrity to prove,
though all the world may crumble in the wake
of pledges that his humble soul doth make.
adam knew eve, as romeo juliet,
whose happy sleep was pale death’s sobriquet.
what tho i pledge my body to be burnt,
scant, still, the wisdom all my wits have learnt;
for human sacrifice falls short of breadth,
to substitute for love that knows no depth.
when i surrender all my love to God,
no glory find i in life’s blind façade.
© cab♫
UWC 71
