NaPoWriMo 2018 Two Sylvias Press April 13, 2018

This prompt was to write a 4 stanza poem, each beginning with the phrase “Each day I choose”, which can be removed or not during revision. Here is my quick attempt:

 

Each day I choose

to mute the alarm, to snooze
five minutes more and then another
five, before I sit up and frown.
Another day I’ve slept too long.

to ignore the white page staring
back accusing me from the one-eyed
screen, the empty space where words
of poems were always meant to be.

Each day I choose procrastination
and delay, plan to write another day, and yet
each day is the same as the one before.
I rise intent and then ignore.

I tell myself I’ll do better tomorrow.
But tomorrow is just another version of today.

public doman per wikimedia

Carol A. Stephen
April 13, 2018

NaPoWriMo 2018 Two Sylvias Press Day 12

The prompt for April 12th is about seashells, used in surprising ways.

Here is my attempt:

The Front Door is for Angels

I heard again the small sound of her knocking.
When I opened the front door, a tiny girl
stood there, ginger hair wild above her
keen blue eyes, an angel of an urchin.

Her dress was the colour
of faded sky. On her feet,
seashell sandals sparkled
like bright sand in the sun.

One small hand dipped into
a pocket. Flat-palmed, she
offered me pink and yellow pieces
of salt-water taffy.

My mother makes them, she told me.
Won’t you try? Please say that you will buy!

Her eyes dropped as she looked away.
I strained to hear her say,
I need new shoes.

Carol A. Stephen
April 20, 2018

NaPoWriMo 2018 Two Sylvias Press Day 9

The prompt was to write about a favourite childhood toy, and to end each line in “ing”.

 

Elephant, Singing

My favourite cuddle toy was not the usual thing,
when I was small,  I held close an elephant that could sing

He only knew a simple tune, a lullaby to wing
me off to sleep and every night he sang his offering
his gentle  notes of sleepytime, his music sending
me to the land of Nod, the land of childhood dreaming.

My elephant came at Christmas in December 19something
his fur was white, his ears were red, a ribbon tying
round his neck. One day when Mum was washing
sweaters, my elephant tumbled in, red running

through the wash colouring everything.
From then on he was pink, and I?  Explaining
why a child so small  knew pink elephants, not the usual thing.
He’s gone now, I don’t know where, but I’m still remembering.

Carol A. Stephen
April 9, 2018

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 14 & 15

“today’s prompt is to write entries for an imaginary dream dictionary. Pick one (or more) of the following words, and write about what it means to dream of these things: Teacup   Hammer  Seagull  Ballet slipper   Shark  Wobbly table   Dentist Rowboat

Fish Story            Carol A. Stephen April 14, 2018

I wake from the dream again, my breath
coming hard in short gasps of stale night air
Always the same dream, the green teacup
filled the rim with almond-scented tea,

the pain behind the eyes, a small hammer
pounding in rhythm to my heart minutes
after I drink the last of the bitter brew.
My dentist hovers at the door, a seagull

perched on his left shoulder, in its mouth
pink ribbons attached to a size 4 ballet
slipper. The bird lifts off, settles
on the wobbly table beside my chair.

He pokes my cheek with his sharp beak,
once on the left, then hops round to the right
to peck three more times, each a little harder.
He’s a mean bird.

Through the doorway, there’s a bathtub.
I hear water splash but I’m too far away to see what.
The dentist beckons me forward, pushes me
through the door. I see a small child, in a rowboat,

a bigger-than-he-is fish swims laps around him.
The tub-water, red, has a familiar salt-iron smell.
The child points to the fish. Says, This is Sharky.
He loves the taste of blood. The echo of his words
still with me as I shake off sleep.

All it says in the dream dictionary
is to stop eating fish.

 

 

 

 

Day 15 NaPoWriMo.

 

And now for our prompt (optional, as always). In her interview, Blake suggests writing a poem in which a villain faces an unfortunate situation, and is revealed to be human (but still evil). Perhaps this could mean the witch from Hansel & Gretel has lost her beloved cat, and is going about the neighborhood sticking up heart-wrenching “Lost Cat” signs, but still finds human children delicious. Maybe Blackbeard the Pirate is lost at sea in an open boat, remembering how much he loved his grandmother (although he will still kill the first person dumb enough to scoop him from the waves).

The Orange Man

His small fingers
creep closer to the red button
as he tweets in a rampage about
this country or that.

He threatens, he promises
and tomorrow what he promised
he will deny, what he threatened
he’ll forget, or blame someone else.

Day upon day upon day, so that
we worry now that we’ll become
blasé, ignore his threats, believe
he’ll never do what he says he will.
We become immune. The man
is dangerous, but the bigger danger
is to dismiss him.  His is an evil
presence. And yet,

we see his humanity
in his need for ego strokes
and in his combed-over
yellow hair.

Carol A. Stephen
April 15, 2018