Elfchen (Das Trio)

 

The prompt was to write a double elevenie, or Elfchen.  I chose to write 3 single Elfchens that are not related in any way.

 

Sommer-
Frische Luft
Eliminiert die Belastung
Jetzt kann ich atmen
Erneuerung

 

 

Grazia
Amore sacrificale
Elimina la vergogna
Asimmetrico, benevolo, e intenzionale
Libertà

 

 

Oprimido
Marginalizado agora
Além das fronteiras
Último será o primeiro
Afinal

 

 

 

NaPoWriMo.net  DAY 23  “Our prompt for Day Twenty-Three comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us to write a double elevenie. What’s that? Well, an elevenie is an eleven-word poem of five lines, with each line performing a specific task in the poem. The first line is one word, a noun. The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, the third line explains where the noun is in three words, the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, and the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line’s noun being what it is and where it is. There are some good examples in the link above.”

Choking Humanity

Today’s news, quietly screaming the ugly truth,
We are a completely broken humanity.

Hatred, violence, and political pretense
Are prowlin’ about provokin’ humanity.

The “bliss” of ignorance has become our disgrace
We’re the kiss of poison oak in humanity.

Change will not come unless we humbly face the facts —
Primary facts — and get woke in humanity.

Can I, Julie, help turn this Ship of Fools around?
I’ll use voice — with an outspoken humanity.

NaPoWriMo.net (Day 14) “Today’s is an oldie-but-a-goody: the ghazal. The form was originally developed in Arabic and Persian poetry, but has become increasingly used in English, after being popularized by poets including Agha Shahid Ali. A ghazal is formed of couplets, each of which is its own complete statement. Both lined of the first couplet end with the same phrase or end-word, and that end-word is also repeated at the end of each couplet. If you’re really feeling inspired, you can also attempt to incorporate internal rhymes and a reference to your own name in the final couplet.”

This writing prompt — writing a ghazal — after today’s events is necessary, critical,  and Timely.

Portrait of a Student Who Desperately Wants to Learn

 

Hearing a hullabaloo from
the next classroom over,
I hopped into the hallway
To see a student spewing sass at her teacher.

She flips her hair and rolls her eyes.
At the same moment —
Smack —
A smart snapping sound sails off her lips.
“Whatever,” she huffs,
Crossing one arm over the other,
Pointing her elbows out
Like the quills of a porcupine.
“I didn’t want to be in your class anyways!”

She pivots,
Fifty percent ballerina, fifty percent basketball player—
One hundred percent attitude.

I spy
the same student
several hours later,
Beside a classmate,
During after school tutoring,
Blatantly whispering
“You know what I hate?”
She begs of her buddy,
“Teachers that say they don’t care.”

Her companion corroborates,
“Mmm-hmm.”

“They should know
I’m fronting.

They got something
And I want what they got.
That’s why I show up.
Now, why would you
Tell someone
Who show up
Everyday
That you don’t care ‘bout them?
Ain’t you the grown-up here?”

Again, her friend
Renders Assent,
“Mmm-hmm.
They should
just know, no
Matter what,
No matter how you act
No matter what you say,
That you want
What they got.
They should
just know.”


 

NaPoWriMo.net – Day 10 Prompt “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.”

My Tears Make Me a Warrior (Day 8)

I don’t need nerves of steel
To be allowed to grow and heal.
My tears make me a warrior.

Call me sensitive, if you will,
Emotions don’t scare me — 
I’ve had my fill.
My tears make me a warrior.

It takes courage to face the things I’ve seen.
Bliss, pain, and everything in between.
My tears make me a warrior.

Depression, sadness, and despair?
Bitter and angry beyond repair?
My tears make me a warrior.

I may scream;
I just might cry.
I won’t pretend
Something’s in my eye.
I have no need
To hide or deny.
Ask about my feelings?
Let me demystify —
My tears make me a warrior.

I don’t need to act tough.
Reality is enough.
It takes guts to cry,
That’s why I’m so fly—
My tears make me a warrior.

NaPoWriMo.net Day 8

“Today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that relies on repetition. It can be repetition of a phrase, or just a word. Need a couple of examples? Try “The Bells” by Edgar Allan Poe, or Joy Harjo’s “She Had Some Horses”. Poe’s poem creates a relentless, clanging effect through the repetition of the word “bells,” while Harjo’s repeated use of the phrase “she had some horses” and variations thereof gives her poem poem its incantatory effect, while also deepening its central philosophical conceit of what things are the same and what things are different.”

A Day Late and a Dolour Short

 

Sometimes she tries to give it her all.
Others notice this about her, too. I
Can’t compete with her; don’t want to, really.
So, what is it that I honestly want?
Time to trace my toes in the sand. More
Magical moments – more meaningful than
A number, score, rank, grade or anything
Quantitative could claim. Time to be in
Company of colleagues, comrades, peers – the
People who know me best in all the World.
I want to travel to where there is
Culture, flavor, sunshine and music to
Remind me that I can taste, smell, feel,
See, and hear all that has been valued.
New faces, voices, ideas and
Chances to say that I have lived and loved.

NaPoWriMo – Day 4 Prompt 

“One of the most popular British works of classical music is Edward Elgar’s “Enigma Variations.” The “enigma” of the title is widely believed to be a hidden melody that is not actually played, but which is tucked somehow into the composition through counterpoint. Today I’d like you to take some inspiration from Elgar and write a poem with a secret – in other words, a poem with a word or idea or line that it isn’t expressing directly.”

Training


(NaPoWriMo2017 – Day 2)

5 years friendship
12 miles bike path
4 gym shoes, slightly worn
2 caps baseball
3000 milliliters water

Locate 6-mile bike path, and confirm that at least one end has parking.  Fill 2 water bottles for each person, set aside.  Dress comfortably.  Be sure to use baseball caps to protect eyes and face from the sun.  

Walk together. Share funny stories. Ponder aloud. Reveal fears and worries. Discuss emotions.  All of them.  Listen.  Provide pep-talks.  

Pause

Notice the breeze.  See the color of each leave, noting the differences since the last walk.  Celebrate the slivers of sunshine that drip through the canopy of trees above. Pay attention to the beauty around you.  Declare the metaphor among long walks and important friendships.

Continue walking to the end of the path.  Drink more water.  Turn around and make 6-mile return hike.

Prompt for 4/2/2017

Today, I’d like you to write a poem inspired by, or in the form of, a recipe! It can be a recipe for something real, like your grandmother’s lemon chiffon cake, or for something imaginary, like a love potion or a spell.  NaPoWriMo.com

When I Grow Up, I want to be a Fire Truck

screen-shot-2017-02-10-at-6-22-30-pmFire truck

I remember looking through
an old childhood book,
In which I had added
My two cents.
With all of my sense,
And my backward-letter
Penmanship, I had plotted
my plans
on the page.

“When I grow up
I want to be
a firetruck.”

Since then,
I had laughed at
Such silly, sophomoric
Sentiment.

“Look,” I’d say, and point
at my self-prescribed,
Pre-school script.
“I really took it to heart
When they told me I could be
Anything I wanted.
A firetruck?
What could I have
Been thinking?”

But, tonight,
As I listed and lamented
The long list of
Other occupations

I had once considered:

Interior designer,
Psychologist,
Cultural anthropologist,
I realized something. . .

Haven’t I since,
In a sense,
Become all of these things?

Except for the fire truck.

But that, perhaps, is
What I am to become.

I still
Want to be
A fire truck!

You see, of a fire truck,

Nobody has ever said:

“Don’t listen to her,
she’s just overreacting.”

“He’s making all of that noise,
Because he didn’t get his way.”

When fire truck wails and screams,
nobody says:

“She has become angry and bitter.”

“Maybe he wants something to really cry about.”

“She’s probably about to get her period.”

“He’s being irrational and crazy.”

As the fire truck
Declares an emergency,
Nobody dismisses it with:

“I don’t know why she is crying. It was her own fault.”

“There he goes, getting all political again.”

“She has no reason to be upset.
She is just being manipulative.”

“Dude, seriously?
Are you complaining again?”

But, a fire truck is respected,
Heard, heeded, honored.

The fire truck is a warrior,
Shouting out
An alarm call,
A barbaric yawp,
A siren cry to save lives.

The fire truck is
not a second-hand good.
Not a victim,

A fire truck is not
Something to be seen and not heard,
But instead,
Is a voice.
A voice that matters.

A voice that pushes through denial
Saying
“Hey!
There is something wrong here.
I can point it out.
I can lead the way.
Hear me.”

I still
Want to be
A fire truck!