mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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She slipped in through the open window, the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby Street
Her curls were tangled around her face, her countenance was calm, quiet, and sweet
Her work revolved around the delivery of deep dreams to answer life’s questions
She drew vivid images, symbols within ancient stories containing characters I must meet
Her home is with the Mother Moon, a place where fairies dance, sing, hide, and play
Dream flowers, colored fountains of jasmine scented liquid fill the air with a spray
Intoxicating transforming bolts of light shine out from behind dream boats at the dock
This harbor is a shelter in the storm, granting time to the mariner who may have gone astray
This poem is built around a line I found in another poem, The Rock-A-By Lady, by Eugene Field. In Mr Field’s poem she is covered head to toe in poppies, each of which brings a fleet and tiny dream to her patrons. I like that image very much. Find poems you like this month at #NaPoWriMo where you can find other poets who used this same prompt to write today.
Sitting pretty on the seat of orthodoxy the cat clergy ties the knot
Between radio-active caliche under the surface and the litter box
Declawed surrealism flows down the drain thickening the plot
Like a hairball flushed surreptitiously past inevitable paradox
Plunger of monasticism, spigot of liturgy turned on full blast
Jungle cat spirits haunt the souls of the monks praying for lost power
Canonization conflicts with basic instincts consistent with the past
Sainthood and survival exist as an experiment in imagination’s tower
This poem needed to be left overnight to simmer. I took the prompt yesterday to make separate lists of words that are too fancy to be in a poem and others too mundane. I made the list of words yesterday but the poem did not percolate. The combination, after sleep, is the poem above..kind of a surprise. Surprise yourself this April at #NaPoWriMo where you will find an abundance of poetry.
Liquid colors dripping down the landscape washing the background with rain
Iris connects the magical eternal womb of life to earth’s never-ending thirst
Rivers gather force falling down the mountainside, bring relief as well as pain
The dark sky full of swiftly traveling heavy clouds has explosively dispersed
Light to follow darkness, rainbow bridge from now to then, from here to there
Mystical highway to heaven, optical affirmation of higher power in glorious display
The fading intensity of stormy connection to nature is both common and rare
Colors draw a map to her pot of gold, the secret light no darkness can betray
This April ride the poetry train at #NaPoWriMo to find poetry and submit your own work.
Hanging from the tree to ripen, we fall when we are ready
Weight and pull toward the earth is constant and steady
Without orbit and centrifugal force we could not anchor to the ground
Our voices would float into space leaving no trace, vanishing without a sound
There would be no palpable difference between light and heavy
Our fate is to look up to find the place where divinity is dwelling
Religious orders, creation stories, iconic books are all-compelling
Yet earth itself holds us here with an understanding that we will return
To become dust when the time bell rings and we take our final turn
To bless this grave planet whose great wealth we have been selling
April is a month for poetry writing all over the world. Tune in to #NaPoWriMo to find new poets to read or submit your own work.
Where is the debate avoider
Controlling decider
Heavily armed, obscuring the truth
The invading, occupying force
Following orders that arrive
Trickling down from a wizard figure
Floating out of sight in a balloon
On a vector tangential to reality
Swirling in a vortex of candy coated spin?
The government is flying high on a cloud of delusion
Today’s prompt is to use kenning, a kind of riddle from Norse poetry. Since the elections are upon us during #NaPoWriMo I was inspired to write about the government. Join poets around the world this month reading and writing poetry.
Set your own priorities with no regard for reality or truth
Walk backwards into situations, the blind back of your head leading
Make sure you ignore the voices pleading, the garden in need of weeding
Blame poorly informed decisions and disruptive behaviors on the youth
Take no responsibility for the results of your actions, causes or effects
Turn your face in both directions speaking platitudes while thinking even worse
Ethical boundaries destroyed and forgotten by superstitious unconscious curse
Thoughts drift in the back door of imaginary enemies and fraudulent respects
Join the poetry fiesta all month in April at #NaPoWriMo . Submit your own poems and read the work of other poets.
Return the wagon to the stable, sitting still while the wheels look like speed
Red paint and chrome polish reveal a strong need to be admired in the crowd
Having taken up the badge of a hero, our tasks must constantly offer risk
To quiet the spectators, sharpen the sword, and to make the unconscious heed
A supercilious voice shrill, screeching, full of bold preaching, for crying out loud
Beneath the shelter of oblivious patrons of civil duty and artful tax evading dodge
The storm is brewing at the core of the society, hail falls steadily, wind is brisk
Tightrope strung in the path of a tornado, stars stream backdrop, time forgot
Today I took the prompt to write a san san, a form from Chinese involving an intricate pattern. Find your place in a world of poets during April. #NaPoWriMo is the place to look or submit your own work.
Executioner extraordinaire sailed to London from France
Her majesty was exposed to pomp and plenty of circumstance
Her death in public left politicians in peril, scattering like rats
Church tangled in the state’s affairs, power heading for collapse
Royal beheading, betrayal of honor, settled firmly with one glance
Call the servants to dress and groom the prisioner queen
Her ghostly praying is spooky, mumbled beneath this final scene
Gallows crowds fill the center courtyard to witness a royal flush
As her face is placed on the block the people respond with a hush
Followed quickly by gasping horror, then silence, cold and mean
April is #NaPoWriMo, a time to write poetry. This prompt for a limerick of a dark and scary nature took me by surprise. I am sure it is my first limerick but will probably not be the last.
The sails of the ship are set for a voyage to the edge of the map
Where the orphan dog and the sandman keep company in dreams
Each has received instructions that niether match nor overlap
To find meaning in the readings we hear murmured behind the scenes
The moment we weigh anchor the parrot starts to warn it is a trap
Hard to tell if the bird knows something or has been taught these routines
April is Poetry month. Join the fun all month at #NaPoWriMo. Write, read recite, invent, enjoy poetry!