S.A.D.

30 Apr

For day 30 of napowrimo – translate a poem in another language. I’ve chosen to take some licence and modernise a Medieval English poem. The original is shown below my effort.

Happy am I while summer’s here
With its birdsong and sun
Until the fierce winds start to blow
And the weather takes a turn
I fear for when the nights are long
And all that’s good will seem as wrong
In the cold and bitter dark.

Original
Mirie it is while sumer y-last
With fugheles son
Oc nu neheth windes blast
And weder strong.
Ei, ei! What this nicht is long
And ich with wel michel wrong
Soregh and murne and fast.

Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Narnia anymore

29 Apr

For day 29 of napowrimo – a memory

Upstairs in grandma’s house
Roly polies on the beds
Back and forth the light cord
Swings above our heads

Some bedrooms are off limits
Like that of Auntie Liz
Which makes it more beguiling
Than the rest of upstairs is

Peeking in we see the ragdoll
Hung upon the wood
Of the enormous wardrobe
That had for ages stood

We tiptoe over to it
And pull the heavy door
Inside there is a skeleton
Which falls out on the floor

We scream and run and stumble
Crying down the stairs
Into the lounge where adults are
Playing cards in pairs

Great Uncle George consoles us
And then he goes to see
He comes down, ‘don’t you cry now
It was just the ragdolly’

That was the last time we saw
Great Uncle George alive
He had a massive heart attack
And never did revive

Speechless

29 Apr

For day 28 of napowrimo – a backwards poem

Walk away
Tired now of waiting, you
As no words still are formed
The seconds feel like hours
Turned to stone
Uncharacteristically, I’m
Always with the quick response
Normally verbose
Paralysed me
The words that you just uttered
As if a magic spell

The Damp Fox

27 Apr

For day 27 of napowrimo – a long-lined poem.

I’ve not tried one of these before so this is very experimental!

The damp fox looks at me dejectedly as I ‘hello’ while jogging by
He’s supposed to be timid but he looks like he’s past caring
Or maybe in my shorts and vest he knows I’m not a threat
Either way he sits there like a fisherman on a fish-less lake
Knowing at his time of life there’s not much else he can do
He’s a fox – it’s not like he can get a job in the factories
Those anthropomorphic stories have a lot to answer for
I hope the next time I’m round here I don’t see him again
He makes me feel awkward like he looks right at my soul
As if maybe he’s sad because of all the bad things I’ve done
And not because the houses here don’t keep chickens

I’m more a ghost than you’ll ever be

27 Apr

I’ve already done a callback poem, so for napowrimo day 26 I’m doing the opposite.

When the sun sets I come
Climbing over padlocked gates
Down the winding paths
To you

Beside you I sit and wait
Hoping for your faint embrace
That soft and slight touch on my face
Of you

I can’t accept you won’t appear
Can’t accept your soul’s at peace
Won’t accept you died happy
With him

Klutz of Heaven

26 Apr
From day 25 of napowrimo – take the first line of another poem and then run away with it. My first line is from Yeats’ Cloths of Heaven – sorry W.B.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths
I’d probably leave them on the bus
You can’t trust me with valuables
I’d rather not have the fuss
Your heart? No please, I can’t have that.
In my heavy hands it would break
I wouldn’t want that on my conscience, love
It’s too much for me to take
Your faith, dear, is in me misplaced
I don’t know what more I can say
Forget me, move on and take care of yourself
You’ll get over me someday

Gratuitous Fruity Language

25 Apr

For day 24 of napowrimo

A gelatinous toad
On a bituminous road
Did explode
When hit by a truck
His last word was “ouch!”
This showed
That amphibians’ luck
Can oft come unstuck
Poor dumb fuck

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