Simultuous (#NaPoWriMo Day 10)

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Hey 😉

‘A poem of simultaneity’ was my optional task for this tenth day of National Poetry Month.  This is what I came up with:

 

 

SIMULTUOUS [simʌltjʊəs]

 

My son’s clock ticked

And, further off, the road was whispering

Tales of a thousand wheels.

The boys' art on a window from last year

 

Down in the playroom:

Chirps of tablet games,

The occasional whoop of kids.

 

My husband typed:

Re-enacting the opening

Of Murder She Wrote in his mind

(Or so it seemed

As pounded plastic pummelled

Through the thin thoughts in my head)

 

Tree branches waved

The intermittent bird

Past the chalk-pen wiggles

Emblazoned on the glass.

 

At Eldest’s window

I sighed deeply;

Poetry seeping slowly

From a pen I didn’t touch.

 

 

Yes, I made the title word up.

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Together (#NaPoWriMo Day 9)

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Hello 🙂

Today’s suggestion was to write a poem where something big and something small come together.

Youngest's hand in mine

 

How large my joints

On every finger seem,

Too clumsy 

To be gentle.

 

Yet here you rest,

A waking dream;

Sweet digits

In mine nestled.

 

 

 

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Wands and Swirls (#NaPoWriMo Day 8)

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Hi!

I wrote the below with a prompt to fashion a poem in which mysterious and magical things occur.

 

With sticky wands aloft

They frolicked into rooms

Festooned with battle scenes.

 

Plastic limbs tussled

Against hopelessly huge ones of fluff,

(No-one was injured.

Though some grimaces were fixed,

They seemed ironic in that light)

 

We tidied and shoved,

Cleared the floor with sweeps of strength;

Put paid to careful tactics

Any warrior had planned.

 

Teddy sentinels stationed,

Construction began –

We used the ‘best kind’ of bricks

To protect the Slither Snakes

From angry bird-breath.

 kids' block structure

Then the glue sticks were brandished once more –

Implements tested

For colour fastness –

And the sacred swirls

Produced by expert hands

For the mighty shields

(Cut by the blades of destiny)

 

The order of things,

Relayed by our blonde-haired general,

Executed by four pen-streaked hands.

 

The high photographer

Captured dragon flight:

A foe no snake expected.

 

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Conversing With Myself (#NaPoWriMo Day 7)

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Howdy!

My optional task for today was to write down all the many parts of my identity and then let a powerful part of myself chat to a disempowered one:

 

You are no scandal.
Playing small does not negate
The whispering.
They said what they did –
History stands –
You don’t need to crawl home,
Worry about old wounds:
A scab you ‘need’ to pick.

But I’m in turmoil!
Don’t you SEE how many pointless years have passed?!
I wasn’t grateful,
Did not engage well,
Felt always obligated
Though still mired in whys and hows.

Steadfastly ‘other’.
Too soon, too loud and broken…

Steps are forgotten,
Bonds you forged are stronger than
A test of cells.
And yes:
They’ll draw conclusions;
But your life is much more precious than
A misconception
Voiced.

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Rule of Thumb (#NaPoWriMo Day 6)

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Hey 🙂

For day six I was prompted to push my comfort zone in regards to where I break the lines in my poem.  Much easier task than yesterday!!

I wrote two poems as a matter of fact, but I liked this one best:

 

RULE OF THUMB

There was a smudge on the long lens;

the accident

looks hazy now

but it’s sharp technicolour in my head.

 

Running on a loop: silent and slowed down and ever so devastating.

 

Every time.

 

Not

frozen:

a fog

obscuring

our

view.

 

In reality:

his eyelids bore my living whorls.

But…

 

here we have

the fingerprint of history.

 

[Pic is from here]

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

Turn (#NaPoWriMo Day 5)

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Hi!

Today’s was a prompt I thought would be easy and fun, but which took me aaaages – and the end result doesn’t make much sense even to me 😉

I was to choose a picture, and a poem in a language that I don’t understand.  I was then to pretend that the poem I chose was about my picture, and ‘translate’ it by looking at the words and thinking about how I could make English words from them that would fit my image.

Well, I chose a pic of an apple because I finished reading “The Magicians Nephew” to the kids last night (after a loooong hiatus).  In the story, Digory is presented with an apple (by Aslan) from Narnia to take back to our world, for his sick mother.

I chose an Icelandic poem by Didda and didn’t read the English translation.  I was going to use all the poem below, but my ‘translation’ took over an hour, so I only used part of it.  Do check out the full Icelandic poem in the link in the second paragraph above 😉

I tried to keep any repeated words meaning the same (made up) translation, but I played with word order and synonyms as well…oh, and punctuation…!

 

TURN

Það er eitthvað ótrúlega magnað við nautstungur. Þær eru svo

Pass him ethereal utterances magnified via nightair – pass her our
sterkar, stórar og rífandi.

stalker stare, and music.

Ég þekkti eitt sinn naut sem hét Turn og hausinn á honum

we beckon: at night he comes, heads turn, and girls or boys
var svo stór að ég hefði getað búið um mig inni í honum.

keep our watch.  We heave up great structures, strengthen the men,
Hann hataði mig og bölvaði mér í hvert sinn sem hann sá

have the power to be happy; oblivious to the green sea, he is  
mig og það var mikilvægt að vera alltaf hauslengdina frá

mighty, and bad are those out to meddle in or significantly alter his livelihood.
honum annars barði hann mann utan í Iærin með hausnum

A man has years he must battle until the lessons of the village,
svo maður kastaðist um fóðurganginn.

our manors and customs, ensure he belongs.
En ég gleymdi að gera ráð fyrir tungunni. Svo að i eitt skiptið

When we claimed the raging fire was out: tyranny.  Our outlook changed.

 

þegar ég var að sópa frá kúnum þá sneri ég baki í hann. Og sem

Our beggars use cunning for soup, snare our bread.  We came
ég stóð beint fyrir framan hann þá fann ég fyrir þykkildi, eins

and stood outside, feeling the flames rise til no fan could tame them.
og lófa á risastórum manni, koma milli Iæra minna og leggjast

And an apple ‘restored’ us: millions now comatose, many mired and lethargic,
þétt upp í klofið á mér. Þrýstingurinn var svo mikill þegar hann

or beaten up in their personal sea.  Prestigious are our meddling beggars’
dró mig til sín að ég þurfti að sleppa takinu á kústinum og grípa

dreams, strength is there until sin leaves us bereft – taking our sleep as, unaccustomed  
í básinn hjá Randíði.

to its grip, we drown in the basin of randomness.

 

© Didda
From: Lastafans og lausar skrúfur
Publisher: Forlagið’, Reykjavík, 1996

 

Actually, having reread my version of this poem a few more times, I’m beginning to think that the ‘apple’ in the frame here may be representative of a technology company of the same name…

Thoughts in the comments, please 😉

 

[Pic is from here]

 

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

A Potent Potion (#NaPoWriMo Day 4)

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Good Afternoon 🙂

 

Today’s prompt was to use concrete nouns in a poem to convey an idea or feeling, instead of using more abstract ones.

I read the below to a friend and it they deemed it very obscure – albeit poetic – and said not many of my readers would understand it 🙁

What do you think this poem is talking about?

Please let me know in the comments…

 

A POTENT POTION

I measure out the feathers

(Sub the black for gold instead)

Throw in handfuls of rose petals

A dirty, dusty bed;

 

A leaky, twisted faucet

Joins the pile (with some songs)

My outlook becomes darker –

And this recipe is done.

 

[Pic is from here]

 

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Fantasy Parenting Blog List (#NaPoWriMo Day 3)

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Hello!

Day three, and the suggestion for my piece was to fashion a ‘list poem’ comprised of made-up names for something.  I decided to think of parenting blogs, and went through the alphabet to fire my brain a bit further.

I actually Googled the names I have here, and no blogs came up (on the first page, anyway…) for any of them. 

If you consequently decide to start a blog with any of these titles, please acknowledge me… 😛

 

Apathetic Upbringing,

Boogers And Bicycles;

Childhood Chartering,

Deserts And Icicles.

 

Evident Evolving,

Frolick And Fan C;

Gargantuan Giggleheads,

Half Hour With Nancy.

 

Indigo Buttercups,

Judgey And Proud;

Kindergarten Carnival,

Lucked-Out And Loud.

 

Mindful Misdemeanours,

Nonsense And Knowhow;

Optional Opulence,

Power Of “Pow!”.

 

Quintessential Quibbling,

Ribena And Rusks;

Slow-Cooking A Manchild,

To façade and fuss.

 

Unleashing Unicorns,

V-Signs And Vim;

Waiting For Blotto,

Xylophone Whims.

 

Yellow Rhino Dancing Here.

 

Zapp Ponders The Stratosphere.

 

 

Which is/are your favourite(s) – and why?

I loved how my mind started writing the opening lines of many ‘first blog posts’ during this poem!!  The names really gave me an insight into the different tones of writing required, as well as the personalities of the individuals who would probably choose each title.

Hmmmm…

 

[Pics are from here and here]

 

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Cross Words (#NaPoWriMo Day 2)

#NaPoWriMo, Childhood, Other Poetry, Parenting 2 Comments »

Hey there!

I have a second piece for #NaPoWriMo and it was put together before 9am!  All hail the power of the Easter holidays 😉

Today’s suggested theme was to explore voices within a poem.

 

CROSS WORDS

 

I saw you!

[So did I!]

You hit her!

[Did her die?]

She was bleeding!

[Did she cry?]

Why’d you do it?!

[Yeah Jake – why?]

 

I was angry

[Was you red?]

So I punched her.

[On her head?]

She deserved it

[What she said…?!]

I’m not sorry!!

[Uh-oh…! Bed…!]

 

GET UPSTAIRS!!

[Don’t tell dad…!]

 

SUITS ME PERFECT!!

[Jakey’s sad]

 

Less of the CHEEK!

[He not bad]

 

ARGH!! WhatEVER!

[He dust got mad…]

 

Mumma! Mumma…?

Jake my fwend:

That girl was

Hurting me AGAIN!

You no see her –

Her too quick –

But Jakey knewed her

Thw-owed that bwick.

 

Her taked my doose cup, too

(‘n’ said Jakey smelled o’ POO)

Her didn’t not give BACK my dwink

So Jakey PUNCH-ed her, I fink…

 

Is that true, Jake…?

[Tell on Jo!]

 

Yeah…she’s stupid.

[Way to go!]

 

 

Can’t think where this poem came from…

 

*Hears raised voices through the playroom door for the umpteeth time this morning*

 

[Pic is from here]

 

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Birthday Gift (#NaPoWriMo Day 1)

#NaPoWriMo, Other Poetry 3 Comments »

Hello 🙂

It is apparently National/Global poetry writing month in April (!) so I thought I would write a poem today using the prompt from the corresponding site: ‘a secret shame or pleasure’.

Here is what I came up with:

 

THE BIRTHDAY GIFT

 

As I read all her ideas

I balked at the choice

Of those expensive red shoes

(In my big girl voice)

But those Mary Jane buckles

Worked their magic on me:

In the night I was dreaming

Of my primary…

 

I used to own patents

In burgundy, and

Was so very proud of

My sweet feet in the sand!

There, in my memory,

Bold as can be –

Were little (red-ish) Mary-Janes

Modelled by ME!

 

So! I boxed up my objections,

Gift-wrapped, used bows;

And presented those pretties

To my daughter (composed).

 

Thanks for the nudge, Jennifer! 

(Check out her [un-prompted] first #NaPoWriMo offering of the year here – and be sure to keep following her progress because she’s hella talented)

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!