Narcissus Does Narcissus Selfies – NaPoWriMo 21.4.2018

 

Narcissus Does Selfies

 

Narcissus, your hair

has thinned and been replaced in part;

you check this on your reflecting mobile app.

Tweet yourself the night away.

 

Your stout insipid chest

sports a tie not yet removed.

Its long tongue could be

 

the tweeting finger, even your

fingertips are pretty. Beautiful to you –

right down to an up-pointing

wagging digit pointing to the stars

you see in the well. Traffic for you

going one way; each tweet

as if another selfie.

 

Benita Kape © 21.4.2018

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And now for our (optional) prompt. In her interview, Brim provides us with several suggestions for generative writing exercises, and we’d like to challenge to today to tackle her third one, which is based in the myth of Narcissus. After reading the myth, try writing a poem that plays with the myth in some way. For example, you could imagine that imagine the water is speaking to you, the narcissus flower. Or you could write a poem in which the narcissus berates the Kardashians for stealing their neurosis. Or a poem that comments on the narcissism of our time, i.e. beauty and body obsession, etc.

 

 

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Rebellious 20 – NaPoWriMo 20.4.2018

Who Scared This Cat 😉

 

You’ll never get me

travelling in an aeroplane.

I’ll never take to the skies.

 

You’ll never catch me

stepping onto a rail train,

or marching;

demanding;

neglected lines are re-commissioned

and maintained.

 

And I will never

get behind the wheel of a car.

I will only ever a passenger be,

 

I will never step into a rubber raft

and paddle three days

ninety-five kilometres             (aaaahhhh)

twenty-six rapids                     (yyyeeeekkk)     (Grades 2 – 6)

river flooded miles      (where are the helicopters to take us home)

to the sea.

 

I will never let such things

stir my blood

drive another adrenalin rush.

Not me.

 

Benita Kape © 20.4.2018

Now I don’t need to tell you what I love, do I!!

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Our prompt for the day (optional as always) takes its cue from Notley’s rebelliousness, and asks you to write a poem that involves rebellion in some way. The speaker or subject of the poem could defy a rule or stricture that’s been placed on them, or the poem could begin by obeying a rule and then proceed to break it (for example, a poem that starts out in iambic pentameter, and then breaks into sprawling, unmetered lines). Or if you tend to write funny poems, you could rebel against yourself, and write something serious (or vice versa). Whatever approach you take, your poem hopefully will open a path beyond the standard, hum-drum ruts that every poet sometimes falls into.

 

 

 

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This is a poem of my own I have chosen to embrace Grace giving us a choice in dVerse today. This is the copy of a women’s movement newsletter from the ’80’s. A poem from way back. Shortly after that Sylvia Plath became one of my all-time favourite poets, though I doubt it was her lovely birth poem Grace shared which drew me to her.

Birth of a summer Poem

dVerse – Birth of a summer Poem

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Erasure poem – NaPoWriMo 19.4.2018

Haiku: A Cloud

 The sun is going down. There is not a cloud in the sky. The leaves on the hedge next door glistens in the burst of the day’s last rays. This is a quiet street. The hibiscus has several buds almost ready to flower. If we have a frost tonight they may be damaged.

 

a cloud

glistens

frost damaged buds

 

Benita Kape © 19.4.2018

 

I have followed the prompt for today. Looked for a minimal response. Moved the word buds two places forward. Not seen this done with erasure poems. But then I decided to write the haiku backwards

 

buds damaged

frost glistens

a cloud

 

BK ©

 

Is there a third way I might do this? I don’t think so.

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Our (optional) prompt for the day takes it cue from Brady’s suggestion that erasure/word banks can allow for compelling repetitive effects. Today we challenge you to write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even gives directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem.

 

 

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Novel Feeling – Novel exercise. NaPoWriMo 18.4.2018

Take a poem, preferably one not known to you. Cover all but the last line. Write out that line and then write a line to correspond or in response. Then take the penultimate line and do the same and so on back to the first line of the poem. First the poem I got from this exercise, followed by the poem which inspired it.

 

Novel Feeling

 

But nothing is as it seems

Is much more difficult than dreams.

Weaving into a wider awakening

To where and what and how

For now this was their chosen byway – for now

Cliff drops; let’s go for the southern cliff.

Changed road signs! Which way to go?

And you: I hand the wheel over to you.

As if you need a licence in an unreal world.

Or reliving life at such a pace.

Slow, works ahead sign.

Spacious the car’s trunck spilling with flowers.

Too late to ask how we got here.

It was that novel feeling; another wrong turn.

Benita Kape (c) 18.4.2018

 

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The following poem (black lines) and written from the bottom of the poem back to the top line is by Bolton Street Cemetery 1 by David Beach from his book Abandoned Novel. The reason I named my poem “Novel Feeling”.

 

Seemed cinematic, indeed heavenly

But nothing is as it seems

Itself along with a vividness, which

Is much more difficult than dreams 

Oblivious to its fate the traffic chased

Weaving into a wider awakening.

They were really going. Spectacularly

To where and what and how

Destinations. Of course this was the place.

For now this was their chosen byway – for now

Shades and shade, watching the rush to vital

Cliffdrops; let’s go for the southern cliff.

Disapprove of death. I stood amidst the

Changed road signs! Which way to go?

Of motorists almost as much as I

And you; I hand the wheel over to you.

Nor a motorist, in fact disapprove

As if you need a licence in an unreal world.

Grand Prix. I felt out of place, neither dead

Or reliving life at such a pace.

Light the motorway was putting on its

Slow down, works ahead sign.

As mushrooms under the trees. Back in the

Spacious the car’s trunk spilling with flowers.

Instant gloom the tombstones looking recent.

Too late to ask how we got here.

Above the bridge there was a path in and

It was that novel feeling; another wrong turn.

 

 

 

 

 

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Family – Pop – NaPoWriMo 17.4.2018

Pop @ church door 001

Pop at Church Door

A Cycle Clip & the Queen

 

Here is a photo of Pop;

custodian at his local church –

after an earthquake, something

like forty years ago, rubble spread

down the front steps.  But

there he was hearth brush and shovel

about to sweep the spoil into a bin.

 

The family still talk about the day

the Queen attended service here

and at the bottom of these very steps spent

a moment or two speaking with our Pop.

 

This photo, taken just after the earthquake,

is how best we remember him.

That cycle clip holding his trousers:

(and what you cannot see, the string,

never a belt, around his waist holding

up those trousers) yes, that clip always just

above his right ankle: that, and the call

of a magnificent AMEN at the end of every

prayer, every hymn: the congregation

well remembered, and took his lead.

 

The many Sundays he was here is what

comes to me as I take my place in choir

so many years after he has passed away.

 

I doubt he would have worn the cycle

clip around the right trouser leg of his

very best suit, nor the length of string

at his waist, the day he met the Queen.

 

Benita Kape © 17.4.2018

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Our prompt for the day (optional as always) follows Gowrishankar’s suggestion that we write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time. It could be the story of the time your Uncle Louis caught a home run ball, the time your Cousin May accidentally brought home a coyote and gave it a bath, thinking it was a stray dog, or something darker (or even sillier).

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Game Play NaPoWriMo 16.4.2018

 

Game   Play

 

why the game

the game is

that today is no game

today is no game that

play the score

the score played

again the score today

and tomorrow whatever

whatever and tomorrow

what is the game

the game is what

and why tomorrow

tomorrow and why game

when and why tomorrow

begins to score

             begin

                        the game

play       playing        played

Benita Kape © 16.4.2018

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In this vein, our (optional, as always) prompt for the day asks you to write a poem that prominently features the idea of play. It could be a poem about a sport or game, a poem about people who play (or are playing a game), or even a poem in the form of the rules for a sport or game that you’ve just made up (sort of like Calvinball).

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