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.

NaPoWriMoDay 24 – Whoever said blue is the colour of sadness?

Today I’ve gone with the official NaPoWriMo prompt, and figured I’d make a link between the blue associated with sadness and the blue of the blue/little/fairy penguins.

Whoever said blue is the colour of sadness

never knew Eudyptula minor.

A little penguin with a huge heart,

it’s blue hues as deep as the smiles they elicit.

From mainland Australia

to Tasmania

they create life

2 by 2.

So too on Philip Island

where the sublime innate magic

of the fairy penguins

is on full display.

Like Piplup but real,

We gotta save em all!

NaPoWriMo Day 22 – What is Manchester?

Today I’ve opted for the official NaPoWriMo prompt of using metonymy.

Is it a bee?

Is it tea?

Is it a bee eating its tea?

Is it Oasis?

Is it the rain?

Is it euphoria that glides ‘cross your brain?

Is it United?

Is it City?

Is it the pints, the cheers and the ditties?

Is it your hopes?

Is it your dreams?

Is it a place that’s more than it seems.

From Peterloo to the splitting the atom…

it’s Manchester, and it’s fuckin’ smashing!

NaPoWriMo Day 12 – Aristotimus Disintegrator

Today I’ve opted to the official NaPoWriMo prompt of using both Lempriere’s Classical Dictionary and the Historical Dictionary of Science Fiction.

As a result I wrote a Ukiah based on the reign of Aristotimus in the ancient Greek city of Elis. I was eager to find the Statue of Cylon however in another fun twist that linked to the prompt I was linked to figurines from Battlestar Galactica.


Corrupt as a Scarlet Moon,
Forty-score exiles
till Aetolian sunset.

NaPoWriMo Day 10 – Trust

Today I’ve opted to use the Local Gems Poetry Press prompt.

I’m in somewhat of a fractured yet healing place right now. I’ve no idea where this journey is taking me. I just know I’ve become much more sensitive lately, and that I’m finding no humour in mockery, derision or malice. A knife edge between sanity and salvation.

For many years I’ve been guarded,

a mound around my heart

commemorating lost hope.

Yet as I work on showing kindness to myself,

this vault contains a trust

where I may also place the kindness of others.

NaPoWriMo Day 5 – Maybe

Today I went with the Local Gems Poetry Press prompt of beginning each line with the same word.

Maybe I haven’t achieved all I wanted.

Maybe roadblocks were mountains as I were pedestrian.

Maybe perseverance is the lesson.

Maybe everything really is random.

Maybe serendipity is broken clocks ceasing in unison.

Maybe trying to understand is another game we play.

Maybe I’m afraid of maybes.

Maybe the guttural chords of regret are echoes.

Maybe echoes are a blessing for those who can hear.

Maybe rumination is a sign that you’ve lived.

Maybe allow yourself to live once more.

Maybe greatness is your heart’s gilded armour.

Maybe splinters see themselves as grand oaks.

Maybe is the space between ideas and experiences.

Photo credit: Edited version of an original image by Woohyuck Jang operating under a royalty free licence.

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…