Intent (30/30)

The final prompt for day thirty over at NaPoWriMo was to take a previously written poem and write it backwards, flipping the order of the lines from the last to the first. I’m using a poem I wrote back in January of 2014 entitled Meant To to accomplish this challenge...



I really meant to love her more,

but in reality,
I am genuinely sorry
for capturing our moments
unapologetically.

Her smile,
her aroma,
her flesh,
deciphered 

intricacies
squandered
while obsessing
over written memories.

Beneath her breast,
a thumping quasar
accompanied
the universe 

in her eyes
which
ink strokes
attempted to mirror.

Our dreams,
our uncertainties,
our happiness,
all immortalized effigies
lingering like
a sunset with no horizon;


every letter
a tragic beauty
delicately embraced.

She inspired me to write,
but more than her,
I foolishly loved words.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Ink


2 comments:

The Inevitable (29/30)




You occupy

crevices of 

thought residing

next to imagination 

and the inevitable.


You own sunsets

and live in 3am;

the dream is to 

swim inside your mind 

and surf on its thinking,

watching synapses become 

the texture of ancestral 

sand as fingers birth 

hallelujah from 

massaging neurons so 

radiant they restore youth.


Amazing how the

mind draws up fascination

with sentences strung

together with shards of

starlight and the future;


I climb inside your words and make myself home.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly




Butterflies


1 comments:

Burning Bridges (28/30)

The prompt for day twenty-eight over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem about bridges.



It burns!

It burns!

Yells the bridge 

you’ve set ablaze;

ashes won’t hold your weight if you need to return across it.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly




Burning Bridge


0 comments:

Uprising (27/30)

The prompt for day twenty-seven over at NaPoWriMo was to write a variant on the haiku called a hay(na)ku, which is a poem that consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words.




Seal

is broken

on pressurized frustration.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly





0 comments:

Baptism (26/30)





The congregation lines up in the lake,

to rescue our souls we cannot wait,

because of my ignorance, I start to clown;

hey momma, does being saved mean we have to drown?





© 2015 abruvanamedsly






0 comments:

Speaking In Tongues (25/30)

The prompt for day twenty-five over at NaPoWriMo was to attempt a Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name...



Reverend Johnson stayed on his knees,

the women’s choir he aimed to please;

his gilded tongue gave them life,

until it was cut out by his wife.
 





© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Tongue


0 comments:

In Moments (24/30)



In
moments
where time
dissolves into
dust and dusk
crashes into 

dawn, the world 
seems to slide
between the concrete 

and abstract,
especially in the
bedroom;

walls
and floors
melt, the ceiling
transforms
into an ocean,
mattress,
a Spanish galleon; 

lovers becoming
captors and slaves
sailing the high seas
of desire;

conjoined skin swimming
deep in the life
aquatic.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Passion


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Homage (23/30)




Poets hurl their 

hearts at the moon,


turning the night sky 

into sonnets and sangria; 

Shakespeare is somewhere 

drinking from a pitcher.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Sangria Moon

1 comments:

Breeze (22/30)

The prompt for day twenty two at NaPoWriMo was to write a pastoral poem in honor of earth day. A Pastoral poem usually engages with nature in form or fashion so I thought this might work…



The

night breeze

sneaks through my open window

like a lover’s unexpected enchantment;


it wisp across bare skin,

taking up residence in the bed sheet and bones.

Body hairs become so aroused,

they never want this


sensation 

to

cease.






© 2015 abruvanamedsly




Open Window

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Rebellion (21/30)

The prompt for day twenty-one over at NaPoWriMo was to create an erasure poem...I used a page from Kenneth B. Clark's book Dark Ghetto: Dilemmas of Social Power


Book



0 comments:

Stasis (20/30)

The prompt for day twenty over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that states the things you know; each line can be a separate statement or you can run them together.



Black is beautiful

but gets marred by

a thin blue line

which is a real shame, seems like

black lives matter most

when they are spending money

on sneakers, weaves and xbox games.

Folks want to martyr criminals

who don’t comply, but

appear to give no f%&ks

about the young black males

who every day senselessly die.

We are desensitized beyond recognition,

celebrating ignorance like it has value;

one hundred forty character

revolutionaries whose flash mob mentality

hashtags injustice and upholds privilege.

We are in an age of technology

where trading convenience for control

equals access to your soul,

salvation lying one click away.

One thing I know for sure,

this reality really needs

a log out button.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly

Stasis

1 comments:

By Yourself (19/30)

The prompt for day nineteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a landay. Landays are usually 22-syllable couplets, generally rhyming and ranging from sly and humorous to deeply ironic and melancholy. These were kinda fun to write…



A life of solitude is not that bad;
says the person who reminisces on what they had.


Being alone is never lonely;
your matchmaking grandma calls this saying baloney.


In the darkness, fingers make her moan;
she secretly wishes she could pull him through the phone.


In darkness, infidelity makes him cry;
his best friend is teaching his wife’s vagina how to sigh.


The writing life, full of sex and sin,
you make love to your keyboard, monitor, pad and pen.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Face

2 comments:

Missed (18/30)





The hospital called;

car wheels couldn’t spin fast enough

to clutch your last words.






© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Flatline


0 comments:

#Randomness (17/30)

The prompt for day seventeen over at NaPoWriMo was to take elements from your social media life and make a poem out of them…I chose to take some of my old facebook status updates and add hashtags to them…


The time will come when you let go of all fear, doubt and uncertainty concerning your life's true passion; it will either be the most liberating day of your existence or you'll be too dead to give a shyt
#followyourpassion


Ink is my life's blood; I bleed on pages nightly. In the daytime, I become anemic.
#vampirepoet

I am a stranger in a strange land searching for a normalcy that doesn't exist; 3am chronicles my exploits and holds all my secrets.
#insomniaswhore

It sometimes aches remembering the way her body wrapped around mine; mostly at 4am when the ghost of us haunts cold bed sheets…
#sleepingalone


Is there a rest home for unwritten words and thoughts that didn't have the courage to become poems? If such a place exist, I need to make a sojourn to it and reminisce with the lines and stanzas that almost made it
#visitingunfinishedpoems

When the greatness in you makes its debut, it will shock everyone...even yourself
#surprisepotential

We crawled into each others lives and learned how to walk together under the sun; unfortunately you couldn't help me fly...I had to learn how after you pushed me off a cliff
#invisiblewings

We danced on the edge of frigidness searching for warmth that never came; permanent icicles daydreaming about an invisible summer.
#imaginarysky

The one thing about life that is certain...nobody makes it outta here alive
#iftheresahellbelow




© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Icons

1 comments:

Terzanelle: The Burn (16/30)

The prompt for day sixteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a terzanelle, which is a combination of a villanelle and terza rima. Form poetry...oh what fun!



Her kiss burned down my bones,
setting fire to lips and skin,
ashes turning into a love jones.

Her glance, a piercing sin;
eyes the color of sun and coal,
setting fire to lips and skin.

My spirit she has stole,
becoming my secret salvation;
eyes the color of sun and coal.

Between her legs lies damnation;
perdition has the sweetest taste,
becoming my secret salvation.

Limbs freeze; time becomes chaste,
trapped in her scorching flame;   
perdition has the sweetest taste.

My curiosity is to blame,
her kiss burned down my bones,
trapped in her scorching flame,   
ashes turning into a love jones.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



0 comments:

Dear Poem (15/30)

The prompt for day fifteen over at NaPoWriMo (woohoo the halfway point!) was to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self...



You steal sleep

and hijack thoughts;

always the center of attention,

you're a mistress,

a mystery,

misery.

You impregnate blank pages,

sometimes abandoning lines in their infancy;

you are prayers reincarnated as ink,

moonlight searching for a home,

words seeking immortality,

deep sighs splattered 

upon a broken canvas.

I try escaping you

but you hunt me down

like a jilted lover

not ready to end the romance;

I secretly enjoy

the chase.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Poetry

1 comments:

Discussion About Polygamy (14/30)

The prompt for day fourteen over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem that takes the form of a dialogue...




Ayo baby in

Afrika men are allowed

to have more than one

wife, would you allow me

to bring another

woman into our life?



She said...

go find Umfufu

if you want mister,

but if you bring another

woman into this house

I will be pulling the trigger;



you must have fell

and bumped your head,

the only way you'll have

another wife in this life

is when my ass is good and dead.



But think of all those

righteous women

without a good man?

Wouldn’t having

a sister wife be grand?

You know polygamy

is in Allah's plans…



…see this is what happens

when you stay up late

watching Shaka Zulu;

alright Mr. I Want Another Wife

No Maybe TWO

let me go find another

man to bring into this

house, then we'll see if you like

having to share a spouse...



Aiiiiiiiight cut that s@#t out

because it ain't funny...



Oh but me sharing you

is in Allah's plans???!!



You need to shut the hell up

A.S.A.P. before your head

starts to share the bottom

of this frying pan.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



0 comments:

Ice Queen (13/30)



Her 
eyes were 
the color of ice 
and sapphire, telling 
the story of a thousand 
lonely blizzards.

Her
crown made 
of crystal and 
starlight reflected
a sacred truth
few could ever 
fathom;


throne 
devoid
of warmth is indeed
a cold place 
to be.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Ice Queen

0 comments:

Pulling Teeth (12/30)


Because of years
of mistaking candy for
one of the four food groups,
I have teeth that need to be
pulled.

I'm reluctant to see
a dentist because I've
become accustomed to
the pain;

sharp stabbing lighting
that strikes at any given
moment, electrifying
nerve endings.

Reading about dental
horror stories from the
times when there were
no dentist is how I try
and motivate myself to seek
medical attention,

they don't work;

the pain passes
like a storm in the
summer. 



© 2015 abruvanamedsly





0 comments:

Bullets & Bulldozers (11/30)



I
was
sitting
in a trendy
restaurant trying
to enjoy the company,
food and ambiance of a
Saturday night, but the
sterilized view of the street
from where I was dining gave
me an uneasy feeling;

all
I could see
were the ghost
of former residents,
family owned businesses
and taped off crime scenes.

The
music,
voices and clanging
of dinnerware drowned out
by the memories of bullets and
bulldozers.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Restaurant

0 comments:

Commonality (10/30)

I've been busy off-line for the past couple of days, so for these next few poems I'm gonna skip the NaPoWriMo prompts...


I was riding
a packed afternoon 
metro train full of 
wide eyed and
curious looking tourist,

the giant yellow W on my
t-shirt amplifying my
difference from them.

As I tried to ignore 
their stares, a cherub 
faced lad approaches me,
gazes straight into my 
eyes and pulls up his 
right shirt sleeve;

his skin read:
WU-TANG FOREVER.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Wu

0 comments:

Known Elements (9/30)

The prompt for day nine at NaPoWriMo was to come up with a visual poem or calligram...I used a program called Tagxedo to create this word cloud...













 
When
essential
elements from the
periodic table of
Sankofa are
combined
properly,
they paint 
harmonious
hieroglyphics
onto the minds of
those who know
just how powerful
galaxy rays can
be.


© 2015 abruvanamedsly

2 comments:

Inevitability (8/30)

The prompt for day eight over at NaPoWriMo was to write a palinode, a poem in which a poet retracts a statement made in an earlier poem to make a new one. I decided to use words from my piece *Saddening...



*you lie under my skin
taking up the space between
muscle and tomorrow



-----------------------------------



more like;

you live in my sighs
taking up the space between
probability and today.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Candles


0 comments:

Blood Money (7/30)

The challenge for day seven over at NaPoWriMo was to write a poem about money.



No

matter

how

many times

you wash your

hands or your soul,

the blood never comes off.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Blood Money


0 comments:

Mourning (6/30)

The prompt for day six over at NaPoWriMo was to write an aubade poem. This is what I came up with...



The

snooze

button becomes a eulogy

as dawn transforms into a pyre,

setting fire to the comfort of sleep.





© 2015 abruvanamedsly





Dawn


0 comments:

Caged Sunlight (5/30)

The prompt for day five over at NaPoWriMo was to find an Emily Dickinson poem and make your own poem out of it. I chose The Poets Light But Lamps.



Poets are broken radiance

mimicking the flickering

of lamp wicks; vital light

illuminating the darkest

recesses of curious minds.


Too bad most sit on shelves;

caged sunlight waiting for the

chance to once again shine.




© 2015 abruvanamedsly




Bookshelf


0 comments:

Lava (4/30)

The prompt for day four at NaPoWriMo was to write either a loveless love poem or a break up poem avoiding clich├ęs and the traditional trappings associated with the subject matter...I chose love:



You
flowed
into my life
like lava setting
off a million pyroclastic
moments within my
chest.

My
blood is
now molten
coursing through
veins with such heat
my skin glows like
empyrean;

I
am
Dante
helplessly
swimming in your inferno.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Lava Heart

2 comments:

Disturbance (3/30)

The challenge for day three over at NaPoWriMo was to write a fourteener which is nothing more that a poem where each line contains only fourteen syllables; it can be as long as you want it to be...this one is short because I'm sleepy...



The night was still until suddenly a loud thump took place,
it scared me shitless causing my heart to quicken its pace.
I jumped out of bed to investigate the commotion,
my toe hit the bedpost, I stumbled over some lotion.


While cursing the night, the thump has now turned to loud scratches,
the light switch wasn't working, so I reached for some matches.
I headed toward the window to lay eyes on the sight,
pulling open the curtains to see two cats in a fight.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Cat

0 comments:

Amid Midnight & Morning (A Villanelle: 2/30)

The prompt for day two over at NaPoWriMo was to take a gaze upward and write a poem about the stars. I was feeling a little ambitious today so I thought I'd write today's poem as a Villanelle...


Between the blackness thoughts tend to roam, Twilight illuminating the absence in my soul;  
Points of light becoming beacons to home.

Open windows at dusk kiss atmospheric rays,  
The night, a lover whose mysteries cajole;  
Between the blackness thoughts tend to roam.

Stars, pulsating jewels setting the mind ablaze,  
The sky breathing like shimmering coal;  
Points of light becoming beacons to home.

The past, present and future a converging maze,  
Appearing like a riddle with a hidden goal,
Between the blackness thoughts tend to roam.

Onyx moonbeams putting imagination in a daze, Slivers of darkness wrestling for total control,  
Points of light becoming beacons to home.

Ancient eyesight rekindled by an upward gaze,  
Secret constellations starting to unfold, 
Between the blackness thoughts tend to roam,
Points of light becoming beacons to home.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly



Stargazing

2 comments:

Knots (1/30)

Well here we are again...another year of NaPoWriMo and another year of prompts. Day one's prompt was to write a poem of negation...and here we go!


I've never
seen sunsets
in your eyes
or the stars 
in your 
smile.

There is no
melody playing
when you walk
into a room;

no skipping
of heartbeats
or butterflies
making love
in my stomach.

I don't stare
at the ceiling
around 3 am
wondering about
the many ways
your body heat
could blanket me;

seconds don't
seem brighter
nor do the minutes;
time is not on my side
and neither are you.



© 2015 abruvanamedsly


Dreamcatcher

0 comments:

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