Hello everyone! Here is my first out of four features of the winners of NaPoWriMo! I'm splitting them up because no one likes super long features and it wouldn't be fair to the people at the very end who would get less attention. I'm so sorry this took so long to prepare, I'm very swamped with real-life stuff!
I'll be showcasing each of the winners along with three of my favorite NaPo pieces by that person. I planned this before realizing that some people have condensed all their poems into one deviation, so I'm sorry to those who will get less exposure
Please give these talented writers some love!
betwixtthepages
SundreamsSundreams kiss dry skin,
waves crashing--thunder--on the
shore. Gulls' broken
cries, crisp across the wind,
promise things
I know the
mortal world can't keep.
Post-It NotesI imagine you--
left leg tucked up
beneath you,
hair shoved hastily
behind your ears,
fingers perched on that spot
I used to leave kisses--
blotting these words
with your tears
and frustration,
guilt wrapping you
like a quilt
because you know
you always knew better.
You thought
you were sharing something intimate,
a secret
that would make the rest
change,
somehow--
a part of you
you didn't think I knew about.
You were a mystery--
burgundy lip stains
on my clean pillowcases,
a half-empty bottle of champagne
left at room temperature...
but you can't con
a conman.
In the morning,
the Post-It notes
around the bathroom mirror
will make more sense to you.
"Don't fall in love with me.
You won't like it
when I leave."
Husks of the PastYellow Jacket flannel hangs
in the back of my closet,
an active memory hive.
I put it on sometimes,
deep pockets engulfing me
and buttons pressed to my skin
like a threat.
A trace of your cologne
still lingers,
the promise of spring
snatched away too soon.
I dream of being suffocated;
it always smells like you.
RedDragonfly
April 2013 Napowrimo Haiku Set30
cold hands
dig into the fur of
sun-warmed cats
29
first warm weekend
deli patios packed
iced tea season
29.2
voices far away-
a butterfly
tasting my father's bald head
28
desert road
more lonely
than I know how to be
27
above the hospital-
parachutes
spiralling down
26
a kind word
frost-wilted
tulips making new buds
25
finally spring
cats outside
chickadeedeedeedee
24
soothing whisper
wind in the spruce
snowmelt
23
snowdrifts
along the fenceline
or horse hair?
22
snowy day
the yearlings stand heads togther
color wheel
21
cats know
you are not asleep
eep eep
20
sun-warmed cat
peaceful
cup of tea
19
melting snow
clunks musically
through the branches
18
spring lake-
geese float
geese stand on the ice
17
stomachache-
kitten puts one footprint
in the snow
16
purring
silhouttes
in the snowy window
15
empty teacup
cats have stolen
string and tag
14
woken by
the sound of rain
not a cloud in the sky
13
signs of spring
yellow tulip
baseball game traffic
12
fox track on snow
I'll follow
and es
JayDanjerCobain
12April showers
like sparrow bones
a lullaby
against the window pane.
Constellations
like velvet hands
a sonnet
in dark dying fire.
Tossing waves
like broken flowers
a lament
dancing for the albatross.
14isabelline fractures
and lilliputian speckles
lonely caramel dew
melancholic and moribund
crimson dwarf stars
in nets of spun gold
a kingfisher beating
breaking through ribs
swallowing grey tuesdays
and drowned wednesdays
and hail and snow gale
29I am not the cure.
I can't melt your bones
back into place
and hold them while they set.
I can't whisper away
your headaches
with golden threads from my lips.
I am not co codamol,
but just as addictive.
I don't numb the pain
or sing you to sleep.
I don't kiss your forehead
as you listen to the radio and the rain.
I open you up to the river
and slap you frantically awake.
I push you, running, dancing,
through forests and thickets.
But isn't that better, darling?
D-A-Skelly
*Femme Fatale*Vermillion lips pout
Eyes with long lashes flutter
Coquette, femme fatale.
2013 Delice1941
16th April2013
*Falling Angel*Star fell this dark night
Angel surrounded by light
Morning dew delights.
2013 Delice1941
24th April2013
*May Beauty*April hesitates
May moments of great beauty
Flowering cherry blooms.
2013 Delice1941
11th April2013
camelopardalisinblue
Day 22: You Need To Have A Plan...Plot out your contingencies--
build each day in your mind
secure the possibilities &
confer with your superiors:
omit nothing or risk
everything. Live each moment
at the edge of your seat,
prepare yourself for the end
that comes, unwelcome
as it may be, you cannot stave off
what is inevitable--
not through disbelief, nor
fear and ignorance. Carry
only your plan-- when the rains come,
unfold it and use it. You can build
new worlds upon the foundations
& pillars of the old, but remember,
you will always need plans.
Day 01: When People VisitMy stepmother's mixing salad
while sausages sizzle and pop-pop-pop,
burnt black on Dad's barbecue.
I'm hearing my two brothers hiding,
with my eyes closed, counting.
Nobody speaks of our secrets--
we know our parts in this portrait.
Day 17: How To Bury Your MotherStart with the feet; push down
handfuls of earth over stubbed toes
and childhood injuries--
(remember the time she pulled your hair,
called you a bitch and said your father
could never have wanted you).
Press the soil around her calves
and into her knees; let it rest there
as a symbol of the years you parted--
(remember calling her and asking
if she would visit; the way her voice
echoed yours but she never came).
Cup handfuls of dirt and splatter them,
her waist disappearing under the weight
of gravity, just like her abandonment--
(remember wondering if there'd ever be
another place called home; the space
of her now inside you).
Let the ground carve itself, wearing the shape
of her chest, arms by her sides; her heart
invisible, like the way you always felt--
(remember family events you weren't invited
to attend; her mouth hooked in a line
when she said you could have come anyway).
Cover her features one at a time with
lightly sprinkled earth; obliterate her totally
from life, like a ge
Concora
IcarusFledgling of the
four-winds; feather-
light
against a
jaundiced sky
(dawn is quiet
when the noose is
tight).
Sundropo
n
some
days I
watch you
rise and rage
with a new year
firework fervour–
untamed and glorious,
pulling the years together
with a snap of your fingers.
but some days you are languid,
stretching like the summer dusting
of freckles along your forearms, the
slumberous strands of hair shuttering
your sky-eyes from the morning light.
on these days, I think the earth spins
slower and the birds sing a little
quieter. on these days, I look
at you and I think:
sundrop.
Con AmoreCicada violinists,
and champagne flutes
brushing lips:
an autumn concerto.
nospoonwriter
Hour
can we just begin with the fact of how alone you are
and from there we can explore your downward
spiral into self loathing, your dreams were
whet from hours in front of tv
screens and you think
to yourself that
maybe you
won't
add
up
&
so
you
try to
become
someone who
is more like you
yourself and less like
the version of you that was
filtered through screens. your worst
self falls through hour glasses, attempt to tell
time with the setting of the sun and the feeling of waking
up naturally, everyday that passes you become more of who you are
and yet there is a part of you that worries that sooner or later it will be too late.
Last Love Poem for M.You are the anti-muse, emotional vampire, succubus,
I sleep with cloves of garlic, I bathe in holy water,
I drown you in dreams and never feel guilty about
the blood on my hands. All I have to do is think
about the lies on your lips and I am forgiven.
This optimism was once a token to hold onto.
Something to be proud of, a badge of honor,
and now it is a splinter in my heel. It burrows
deep, I feel it with every step until it is
a part of me.
Hardly HedonisticSun soaked skin ripens like watermelon,
an ambivalent affect as I look into
the mirror. I dug Dionysus
a grove-grave, garlands of grapevines rested on
his high head-- a remembrance
of my madness. I can almost taste it--
those wine withered summers wasted on myth.
madameshadowenn
:thumb367229312: :thumb368225109: :thumb368785327:
miserabel
Lord Byron's night (reinvented)She walks in beauty, like the night
in which the streets are dipped in
glittering gold with young rain and soft,
orange glowing streetlights - she walks,
and clicks her shoes and wishes
to be taken away
(I don't know where,
but she dreams of 'far away'
as if any other place would be
preferable to home - and no one's there
to tell her that she's wrong, wrong, wrong
so she'll have to find out by herself
how it hurts to never look back)
she walks in silence,
because that is safe, -
dreaming of another street to walk
another lung to breathe with,
another life to live -
stuck in her skin
always itching to scratch
her way right out of it whenever
she walks until her feet feel raw and sore
(a human tragedy,
the way we are taught to live)
and she is blind to it
but even when stumbling
she is beautiful, like the night.
a feeling like Springin my heart
flowers have grown and died
only to grow anew again
Spring and Autumn
go hand in hand; both are pretty,
one is filled with melancholy, yes -
but it seems so long ago
that magical green eyes
have sent me into months
of nothing but fog;
colourful leaves, and cold
and colder waves of air
I remember, I'm not sure
I will ever forget -
still, it feels different -
while people complain about
Winter's clinginess this year
I feel Summer coming close
what I can see are clear skies
and I walk easily, freely
unable to stop the smile
since you won't let me forget
how you love me and how
I love you just as much
Lines For The Fortune Cookies (title: stolen)Better write bad poetry than no poetry.
Tell them what you think. Out loud. Right now.
Gorgeousness is a lot like American Swiss Cheese - mostly fake.
Don't drink the wine - be the wine.
Wonder who loves you? Look in the mirror.
People will tell you things you didn't really want to know.
Green is not as Irish as you think it is.
The answer is sitting on your right.
Ever thought of the poor intern who thinks of these?
A lot of firepower doesn't mean you won't blow yourself up.
Singing makes happy, and there are scientific studies to prove it.
What would the cavemen do?
Don't let your head hang low or you'll drown.
This fortune cookie is a disappointment.
Please don't go into politics.
Get a cat.
Rollercoasters - the thrill isn't worth it.
Kiwis or apples are your lucky fruits.
Ever realised how awesome the sky is? Stare at it some more.
Are you sure about this?
Your TV is trying to brainwash you, be wary.
Don't marry them before you had sex with them.
Two sugars are enough, trust
