April 30, 2008
This is my final posting for NaPoWriMo. It’s a vignette, written in response to the prompt words at 3WW: highway, empty and ignored.
She screamed, Stop the car!
It pitched to a halt
on the verge of an empty road.
She slammed the door behind her.
and strode slowly, deliberately
into the middle of the highway.
The friends who left her there
agreed to synchronize their stories.
She could no longer be ignored.
I will now be taking a break to spend time with family near Geneva. Thank you to everyone who has either read or commented on my poems during April.
12 Comments | 
3WW, NaPoWriMo, Poetry | Tagged: 3WW | 
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Posted by watermaid
April 30, 2008
This is my penultimate post for NaPoWriMo. I’m using a prompt given by Michelle of Poefusion and Poefeti. Michelle has been a wonderful source of ideas and inspiration (even more than usual) during April and I’m sure that all of us on the Poefusion Blogroll are grateful. Thank you Michelle! The prompt is the first line from a poem by Emily Dickinson. Click on the logo to read more poems and find a link to the poem the line comes from.
Bring me the sunset in a cup.
Let me imbibe its heady vapours
to dizzy my brain
with myriad colours
in high definition.
Bring me the sunset in a cup.
Let me hold it in my hands:
Lets its warmth makes me tingle
from the tips of my fingers
to the tips of my toes
as it acquaints itself
with my topology.
Bring me the sunset in a cup.
Let me be like a wine taster
as I savour the last drops
before it quietly
slips away.
8 Comments | 
NaPoWriMo, Poefusion, Poetry | 
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Posted by watermaid
April 29, 2008
Here are two short poems on the theme of completion.
The spaces in which they moved are
empty of their presence leaving
only an intolerable ache where
the spaces in which they moved are…
The parmesan cheese they bought last week,
the garlic rich peso sauce,
the bottle of chardonnay,
the baby’s rattle under a chair,
celebrate their presence
after they’ve gone.
7 Comments | 
NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Writers Island | 
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Posted by watermaid
April 29, 2008
The Two for Tuesday prompts are: lesson/lessen and/or streak. I’ve used all three.
Alien
The life form glared
behind heavy black curtains;
an asymmetrical platinum streak
down one side. The eyes
almost human.
I recalled the baby blond hair
and crooked smile
after you lost a tooth
on your first birthday.
There would be many nights
watching the clock hands
claw away time, waiting
for the phone calls
that never came.
You must let me make my own mistakes.
If there is a lesson to learn, I will learn it.
This did nothing to lessen my angst
6 Comments | NaPoWriMo, Poetry, two for tuesday | Permalink
Posted by watermaid
April 28, 2008
Photograph by Kamsin
Delicate blooms:
Transience transfixed
on desktop.
To find and read more poems on the theme of ‘flowering’ click on the logo below.
9 Comments | Haiku, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, one single impression | Permalink
Posted by watermaid
April 25, 2008
A mound,
tussocks,
a stump
crossed by a branch
which stabbed a splinter
into the palm of his hand
as he ripped it
from the mouldering tree
- the backdrop.
Crow’s cries
punctuate the air.
A girl in diaphanous dress
holds a plastic parasol,
buffeted by the wind.
A boy in white T-shirt
and khaki shorts
stands beside her.
The cries of crow
are not distractions to
their votive ceremony
sealed with a blot of ink
on a scrap of lined paper
torn from an exercise book.
A mound,
tussocks,
an effigy in diaphanous dress
holding a plastic parasol
- the foreground.
Crow has settled:
his cries no longer
punctuate the air
9 Comments | Friday Five, Monday Mural, NaPoWriMo, Poefusion, Poetry | Permalink
Posted by watermaid
April 23, 2008
The luc-bat has alternating lines with 6 and 8 beats and a rhyme scheme that includes internal rhymes. For Michelle’s fuller explanation click here.
I have to admit that my poem is somewhat derivative. I’ve been reading a lot of Yeats’s s poetry and as i was writing I realised that these lines were going through my head:
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick…
W B Yeats, Sailing to Byzantium.
Thirteen lines
The sky above was grey,
before me stood an aged crone,
frayed tissue hung on bone,
mumbling in monotone to me,
You will never be free,
as long as you carry that charm.
Her words set off alarms.
A trinket to deflect harm, how could
it do other than good?
If I had understood her wish
was not to admonish
I would have relinquished my need
of irrational creeds.
5 Comments | NaPoWriMo, Poefusion, Poetry | Permalink
Posted by watermaid
April 23, 2008
In winter’s darkroom
spring soaks negatives
in succulent green.
12 Comments | Haiku, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, one single impression | Permalink
Posted by watermaid
