NaPoWriMo Day 5 -Styx and Tomes

Styx and tomes waylay my soul
but Olympus never scared me.
I plucked and shorn a Minotaur
and found it mighty hairy.

Styx and tomes are cold to hold
Their tales are often haunting.
I won’t be beat, I find my heat
Like Vesuvian molten vaulting.

Styx and tomes may take their toll
yet coins they are aplenty.
They pass through hands like timeless sands
yet silver cannot tempt me.

Styx and tomes are not my home,
In truth they can’t confine me.
Think not the page, but check the stage,
for there you’re bound to find me.

NaPoWriMo Day 27 – Agnosthesia

Today I’ve embraced the official prompt of using an entry from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.

For three fortnights I’ve pondered

as the diorama spun-

splintering inside my fractured mind.

“I’m aware it’s a game,”

“I’m aware that it’s a no.”

I’m aware I was tripping balls

but it’s an opportunity to grow.

In that realm context brought pain,

sautéed synapses soaked in regret.

Why does everything have to relate to everything

when you’re finding it hard to relate to anything?

Yet I stood tall, I owned the wrong I did to others.

I refused to partake in cruelty even in a realm defined by it.

But now, I must right the wrongs in how I’ve treated myself.

NaPoWriMo Day 4 – Neon Draconis

Today I opted to use the official NaPoWriMo prompt of using an image from SpaceLiminalBot on Twitter to inspire my writing.

I am the unknown entity

that lurks beneath

a grungy neon cityscape.

Ancient magicks

and cyberpunk dystopia

collide like Hadron’s incantations.

Sacral wings,

cybernetic tendrils…

that soar, spread and replicate

Malevolent manifestations.

Though I keep my lair

in the forgotten places

I exist within all spaces.

Obsidian flight shines ominously.

NaPoWriMo Day 2 – The Balance of Eternity

For day 2 I’ve attempted both the Local Gems and the official prompt simultaneously with a Petrarchan Sonnet relating to the question of how to find meaning and ancient knowledge in a world that has forgotten itself and it’s truths.

Souls burst from darkness in neon cascades

but are we rodents in a cosmic trap?

Third eye blind, Gaia wept like weirwood sap.

False realities rise while truth’s star fades.

Meaning was lost in exploitative trades.

Auras applaud – and begin with one clap

is rebirth’s renown a most lucid nap?

The universe, … a dream that never wades.

Love – the compass of celestial travel.

Mouths hushed silent, emboldened hearts agape.

Enlightenment upon firefly flutters.

Judgement is a Promethean gavel…

grant critics nor doubt Mjölnir, be happy.

For life … is a sentence … blessed … with … stutters…