Not As The Sparrow (30/30)


Well this is it...the final prompt from NaPoWriMo. For this last challenge, we had to find a short poem and rewrite each line replacing each word (or as many words as possible) with words that mean the opposite. I chose...

As The Sparrow by Charles Bukowski


To give life you must take life,

and as our grief falls flat and hollow

upon the billion-blooded sea

I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed

with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures

lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes.

Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow

did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be

young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.

I hated you when it would have taken less courage

to love.





My opposite rewrite: Not As The Sparrow


To refuse decay you must not give into rot,

and as your joy rises round and full

above the healed land

you skip over frivolously outward-fixed shores straightened

with colorful-armed, colorful bellied flourishing critters

momentarily alive and obedient to distant vistas.

Dear child, you do not do to me what the sparrow 

did to me; you are young when it is passé to be 

old; you laugh when it is passé to cry.

You loved me when it could have taken more courage 

to hate.





Dead Sparrow

0 comments:

Thanda (29/30)


The prompt for day twenty-nine over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that contains at least five words in other languages...I chose to write about a universal word that needs no interpretation...
 

To

love is a risky

entreprise;

it

requires one to strip away

susceptibilidad and dive

head first into  

l'ignoto.



The

initial pular

can be the most

frightening undertaking

of one's

жизнь;

but the freefall

is worth the effort.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Love

0 comments:

Black (28/30)


The prompt for day twenty-eight over at NaPoWriMo was to pick a color and write about it...this is what I came up with:



Atramentous

are we;

noir and unapologetically

piceous;

the supposed stygian

of humanity

with souls blacker than

the space in between the stars.




As 

much 

as folks in this world

would try and denigrate 

our beauty, we still paint

obsidian rainbows

all over their 

hatred.




© 2013 abruvanamdsly



Fist

0 comments:

Isthmus (27/30)


The prompt for day twenty-seven over at NaPoWriMo was to think of a common proverb or phrase then plug the first three words of said phrase into a search engine and use the first few page results as
inspiration for a piece. I chose the proverb No man is an island...


No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main ~ John Donne



No man is an island

but many attempt 

to become isles

mostly British Virgin, 

Cayman & Cook

crooks 
 
who swim 

in the waters of wealth

while the rest 

of the world drowns

in stock prices that stay down

caught in the undertow

of rigged 

annuities.



Maybe

one day

man will learn to be an isthmus

and fly like an eagle

into the future.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Flying Island

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Erasure Poetry (26/30)


The prompt for day twenty-six over at NaPoWriMo was to perform an erasure poem. An erasure poem is created by blotting, highlighting or taking out words of an existing piece of poetry then using those borrowed words to form a new poem. I chose a piece by Mariahadessa Ekere Tallie entitled Raindrop Women...


Women






Raindrop Women

are like balms

brown skin draped in gold

sunshine on brass

hair tuned

against inevitable crashes

with

chaos.


Teardrop Women

refusing to tip toe

between oppression and

aching wails

are

lightening bolts

speaking in tongues.

0 comments:

Mitch (25/30)

The prompt for day twenty-five over at NaPoWriMo was to write a ballad poem. Traditionally, ballads were rhymed poems that told a story of some kind and often set to music. They are set in four-line verses, with an abab rhyme pattern, utilizing alternating 8 & 6 syllable, iambic lines. They are also on occasion, long as hell...but not today.



Mitch the wino is always drunk

Speaking a dialect deranged,

Smells like he hasn't bathed in months

Hand stretched out for spare change.



His eyes tell a story of pain

Few will ever notice;

Especially when it starts to rain,

The tale becomes unfocused.



But from a distance I can see

A reason for his suffering,

His eyes have the same vacuous hue

As my Iraq war vet cousin.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly




Wino

0 comments:

A Bruva Named...(24/30)


The prompt for day twenty-four over at NaPoWriMo was to try writing a self-portrait poem using words that were generated from just your name. Since I write under the name Abruvanamedsly, that's what I plugged into this anagram generator to get the words for this semi-senryu:




A nude sun raven

suave as a maven slave

bare as vale sand.





© 2013 abruvanamedsly




0 comments:

Empty (23/30)


The prompt for day twenty-three over at NaPoWriMo was to write a triolet, which is an eight-line poem where all the lines are written in iambic tetrameter (eight syllables per line) and the 1st, 4th & 7th lines are identical, as are the 2nd and final lines. It has a tight rhyme scheme of ABaAabAB.




This bed is empty when you're gone

for your body heat is sorely missed;

vacant snuggling I rely upon,

this bed is empty when you're gone.

Sheet threads sing a mournful song,

your pillow longing to be kissed,

this bed is empty when you're gone

for your body heat is sorely missed.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Empty Bed

1 comments:

Inertia (22/30)


For day twenty-two over at NaPoWriMo the challenge was to write a poem with Earth Day in mind...




For

many 

a millennia

man has suckled

from Gaia's bosom

only to squander

her

sustenance.



This iniquitousness

shadows 

the 

day.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly


Earth

0 comments:

Misfortune (21/30)


The prompt for day twenty-one over at NaPoWriMo was to re-write Frank O'Hara's Lines for the Fortune Cookies. I'm not going to do as many as he did... 





You will meet someone who makes you laugh. Keep your legs closed.


Everything will be fine, mostly after you die.


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Today you may wish you were blind.


You can't trust a big butt and a smile, especially if you meet in a strip club.


Life is full of surprises. Today you will wish it wasn't.


Your writing will be loved. Mostly by your mother.


You're not fat, but your shadow is.


You will find a soul mate. He will need a flea collar and litter box.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly


Fortune Cookie

2 comments:

Four Hundred Twenty Answers (20/30)


The prompt for day twenty over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that uses at least five words from a list of twenty-eight...this is what I came up with:




an

artillery

of nerves

curl around a mind

haunted by the ghost

of existence;


four

hundred twenty

answers temporarily

satisfy the questions

of a svelte life

frequenting the

entrails of reality's

gutter.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Marijuana_Leaf

0 comments:

Seeking...(19/30)


The prompt for day nineteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem in the form of a personal ad...I was gonna do a raunchy Craiglist causal encounters ad but I came up with this instead...




Imagination architect seeks thought designer to assist in restoration of the art of conversation; must be able to construct complete sentences, intense eye glazes and enjoy sipping on smoldering cups of spontaneity.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly

 

Ad

1 comments:

Night (18/30)


The prompt for day eighteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that begins and ends with the same word...I'm also sharing this piece over at dVerse Poets Pub.




Night

wraps itself around us

as star shine sinks into our skin.



I

trace 

the twilight draping

your breast with my heartbeat,

rooting fingers in the

soil of your

Eros.



We

meld

into an ocean,

becoming primordial waves


crashing against the

reflection of the

night.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Night

6 comments:

Groove (17/30)


For day seventeen the prompt over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem of greeting. This is what I came up with...




Needle

pops and crackling

give the warmest

salutations to vinyl

as music begins

to take the 

mind;



welcoming

a groove 

that

kidnaps the spirit

while holding

hostage

space

and

time.





© 2013 abruvanamedsly




Vinyl

0 comments:

Nausea (16/30)


The challenge for day sixteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write the translation of a poem in a foreign language using the sound, shape of the words and lines to guide you, without worrying too much about whether the translation makes sense. I chose the poem entitled Lelo Lihlo Lethu (The Third Eye) by African poet Mazisi Kunene...this is what I came up with:




Original Poem:


Kuzobe kuyilihlo elifunayo
Eliyobe libona ububanzi bethu
Bona bungezintaba ezimangelengele
Bona bungezimpophoma ezidilika zilandelana
Bona bungamahlathi ahlobise ngamahlamvu
Sengishaya phansi ngenduku yami yenganekwane
Sekuvela imithombo kuvela abantu
Kuvela bona abalandikazi bezindaba.




My Translation:


Kobe beef kabobs killed with flavor;
Eclipsing libidos and euthanizing bellies; Their
Bones burglarized by an enzyme armada.
Bones burglarized by euphoria zephyrs.
Bones burglarized by alibis and nagging.
Stomachs that neglected yams yesterday phase shift,
Seeking immediate kaopectate abate.
Kabob bones set abdomens ablaze.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly




Nausea

0 comments:

Supposition (15/30)


The prompt for day fifteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a pantun poem which is a traditional Malay poetic form consisting of rhymed quatrains (usually with an abab pattern) and 8 - 12 syllables per line. The first two lines of each quatrain aren't meant to have a formal or logical link to the second two lines, although the two halves of each quatrain are supposed to have an imaginative or imagistic connection...





Democracy is an illusion

Alluring in its function and design;

A man can come to his own conclusions

Even when he's old, crippled and blind.




© 2013 abruvanamedsly



Democracy

0 comments:

I, Thanos (14/30)


The prompt for day fourteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a persona poem in the voice of a superhero or supervillian. I chose Thanos The Mad Titan...his infatuation with the physical embodiment of death, who is a woman, always fascinated me when I read about him in comic books as a kid...




The quest to conquer

is forever wed to death.

She is the beating of

my heart and the

marrow of my soul.

I, Thanos will prove my love for you death,

by destroying everything associated with life.

I will peel the flesh off the universe

and rape the heavens to be by your side.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly




Thanos

1 comments:

Adrift on Privation (13/30)


The prompt for day thirteen over at NaPoWriMo was to take a walk, make notes and then transform those observations into a poem...this is what I came up with:



On 
this day
the sun shines 
sideways
in my hood.

It 
illuminates
broken glass 
littering
cracked concrete
masquerading as a 
sidewalk.

The 
birds sing
background for a couple
of neighborhood winos
who reminisce about
the good old days 
to the key of
I remember how 
it used to be.

distant 
police siren
harmonizes with the 
rustle of the wind
as a lone leaf floats from the
broken limb of a rotting tree,
riding shadows to a place
called 
unknown.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly




Leaves

0 comments:

Unsaid (12/30)


The challenge for day twelve over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem consisting entirely of things you'd like to say, but never would to a parent, lover, sibling, child, teacher, roommate, best friend, mayor, CEO, etc, etc...

We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out ~ Winston Churchill

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool and fuck you, I'm out! ~ Scarface, from the movie Half Baked


 
You got what you deserved

for karma is a bitch.

You're overcompensating,

I bet your penis is small;

Does it feel bigger now you're rich?


Yes, your breath smells like 

fried monkey shit

every time you speak;

1492 must have been the last time

you brushed your gotdamn teeth.


Stop telling me a hundred times

what the fuck you need to do,

you're not motivated, just aggravating;

I feel like smacking you

in the face with my steel-toed shoe.


Red light cameras can eat a dick,

trying to separate me from my cash.

Hope you caught me giving you the finger,

while a picture of my license plate you flashed.


Is the glass half full or empty?

Who the fuck really cares?

Ask me this question one more time,

I'm going to break the glass over your head,

then push your ass down a flight of stairs.



© 2013 abruvanamedsly




1 comments:

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