#napowrimo 24
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Poetry Month 2024!!
April is nearly upon us once again, and that means it’s time to get ready for poetry month!! Just as in years past I’m planning to write and share a poem every day, and I could use your help. Send me an ask (or a dm on discord) with a fandom, a character or pairing, and a word or phrase. I’ll mix it all up, throw it in the oven, and see what comes out!
Below is a list of fandoms I’ve either written in the past (or would like to write)…
Battlestar Galactica
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (no Angel, please)
Carry On (the Simon Snow series)
Doctor Who (modern Doctors/companions, plus Eight)
Fringe
Good Omens
Harry Potter (Draco/Neville is my fave but I’ll write just about any character)
His Dark Materials (the books, I’ve still not seen the show!)
Lord of the Rings
The Magnus Archives
Marvel (the Avengers, Venom, Moon Knight)
MASH
The Old Kingdom (book series by Garth Nix)
Our Flag Means Death
The Raven Cycle (I haven’t finished the Dreamer trilogy yet so please no spoilers!!)
The Sandman
Star Trek (TOS/AOS)
Supernatural
The Tortall universe (multiple book series by Tamora Pierce)
Welcome to Night Vale
The Witcher (mostly Netflix, but I have a sprinkling of book and game knowledge)
Thanks so much for all the prompts y’all have sent over the years! It is truly a joy to write for you. 💜💜💜
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my anger and loneliness are lovers. 08/24. S.R.
napowrimo day 24 using @mercuriian's prompts (x): a poem about something you can't do
transcript under the cut:-
my anger and loneliness are lovers
I
The bodies on the olive branch writhe. The leaves fall one by one when I cut the tongue of Nemesis. A clean swoop, a bloodied strike. It falls to the floor writhing like the fishes I caught yesterday to eat. It whispers to me, secrets that are not secrets anymore. What is the point of the world when it is not hidden anymore?
I find myself in a cracked mirror each night. From a world where every heart is a stab wound, some with the knives still buried in them. It scorches my skin when I try to pull them out. The knives find a home in my hand, I find a home in the edge.
Let me be clear: every version of this story ends with rage licking my body all over before slaughtering me by feeding me ignorance.
II
My anger and loneliness are lovers. They stroll the gardens hand in hand and each kiss of theirs turns my world to dust. My loneliness throws a fit of rage each night if they do not get to sleep on either side of me. When they get married, I can do nothing but sob and stare at the sparkle each knife has. There is no fire to extinguish this wounded rage.
When I was seven, my father taught me to make a fist. He taught me to make a fist when I was seven and I carry those punches in a sack that chars my hands. And my anger is all early apologies as it throws me to the ground, tears it apart, and feasts on them like a servant of hades.
III
I cannot let them go. While anger and loneliness wander off for their sojourn of the world, I feel alone without them like a picture in a stained glass window. Immovable and longing for someone to see them and not look.
I get down on my knees and pray at a shattered altar. I pray my anger is enough to die out. I pray that my loneliness dies with it too, two lovers in a locked embrace, reunited by demise. I pray the enemy (hope) is strong enough to stop me. I twist the serpent and bee in a reunion of mayhem. I do not wish for them to leave. I would be all alone then. I do not want to be alone. I do not want to let them go…
Forgive me, I have eaten up all the anger from the store-bought box. I think I should buy one more in another flavour.
— S.R.
#my writings#my poems#napowrimo#napowrimo 2022#napowrimo 2022 day 24#poetscommunity#writerscommunity#poems on tumblr#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#poetblr#litblr#writeblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilled poems
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oh, how your
words have
such a
melancholic
persona;
i'm left
praying
that my heart
decides to heal.
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NaPoWriMo #14: Fake Scare
The zipper on the monster costume is visible to anyone paying attention.
If Bill doesn't post a reaction video to it, I don't know what to think.
Evil in the world isn't so hard to imagine.
All my best ideas arrive while I wait in line at the bank.
What is the wind but something else keeping me up at night?
A platoon of chihuahuas scuttling down your street.
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#prompt: write a poetic review of something that isn't normally reviewed.#this is a review of the year 2019. truly a year of “started from the bottom now we here”#got a little funky with my formatting for this one. not sure if i like it but you know... try something new#also don't @ me i know i have missed several days. i will try to post something for all of them but i wanted to make sure i did today's.#napowrimo#napowrimo 2023#spilled ink#spilled poetry#writeblr#poetry#poets on tumblr#poetry on tumblr#breakup poetry#heartbreak#recovery poem#hopeful poem#recovery poetry#damien.txt#napowrimo day 24#image description in alt
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Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day…
Temperature changing hourly
Needing a sweat towel from the hot flashes
Sunglasses while typing at my desk
Constantly desirous of some sort of beverage
Energy continuously removed from me
As if a vampire had chosen me for relief
Inflammation from enjoying vacations
Unable to relax self-care not intact
Body incapable of joy
Pharmacology becoming my source due to no care
Irritated…
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#NaPoWriMo_GloPoWriMo#day 24#gloprowrimo#Na/Gloprowrimo#napowrimo#NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo#nationalpoetrymonth#poetry
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Reviewing a Pomegranate
We purchased it for mixingwith garlic and honey, a dressingfor grilled halloumi and sourdough toast.
Its orb glowed crimson,the blade split smooth skin,spilling the ruby jewels within,
and stained our fingers with fruity blood.Its sticky flesh held heavenly food,the luscious seeds tiny surprises
crushed between our incisors,trickling juice upon the tongue,a fecund fruit with a tartly sweet…
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NaPoWriMo #24: A poem that starts with a line from another poem
Because I could not stop for Death
I simply never died
His Carriage can't catch up with me
However hard he's tried.
I've just got too much life to live
Too many things to see
To leave our grand and glorious world
For Immortality
Perhaps a couple hundred years
Will rob my life of zest
But until then I will decline
To be the Reaper's guest
So let him chase me 'cross the ways
Past lands of setting sun
I plan to stay one step ahead
And revel in the fun
#napowrimo 2024#poetry#apologies to emily#i just thought of the first two lines and giggled so much that i couldn't think of writing anything else#i wanted it to be a bit more of 'the epic life of the immortal'#mixed with general joie de vivre#celebrating life in a world that can be so pro-death#but it fell into this shape instead and i don't want to overlabor it#it takes away from the fun
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blast from napowrimo past! i have no idea what day this prompt was from last year but we had to write short (one-three worded) sentences and form a poem, and insert a made up word somewhere in between. i made up the word 'phoneliness' bec it sounded nice to me ✨
i can't believe napowrimo '24 is inching closer, hopefully i get to be equally consistent as last time! 💞
painting deets:
slide one: "Resignation" (1890) by Bertha Wegmann
slide two: "Trett" ("Tired") (1885) by Christian Krohg
slide three: "Lady Lying On Sofa" (1885-1890) by lakovos Rizos
slide four: "Young Smoker" (1877) by Tito Conti
#poetry#poem on life#tumblr poems#poems on tumblr#original poem#short poem#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#art#old paintings#defeat#it's okay to not be okay#spilled ink#napowrimo
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Pretend to Forget
A gold shirt on a cold day.
Once you had set out for the future, there must only be
the hard edge of the horizon before you.
Cloud/sun/cloud/sun, a moving striation of gold
and grey.
The inside of your heart, that you’re destroying?
That’s your only life.
Pink wine in a blue glass.
Uncage your heart, free your heart, let it be
wild.
—Jessie Lynn McMains (NaPoWriMo, Day 24; from my own fragments prompt—sources below the cut.)
Sources:
Title from the Message to Bears song of the same name.
“Once you had set out for the future…the horizon before you” from After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz.
“The inside…your only life” from something I overheard one of my kiddos say yesterday.
“Uncage…let it be wild” from a tea bag tag. (I used that instead of a headline.)
#jessie lynn mcmains#my writing#poetry#spilled ink#napowrimo 2023#found poetry#(half found)#fragments
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Unravelled
She aches—
muscles sore from her patrol,
everything else
from keeping up appearances
around her friends.
She just wants to be
herself.
Funny the only one
she can drop the act with is
Spike.
Sit, he says,
surprisingly gentle;
his fingers find the knots
in her neck,
along her spine.
A tear slips down her cheek,
pure relief.
When he pulls her into his arms
she goes willingly,
the coolness of his body a balm
to her admittedly lessened aches.
He kisses her hair, says
rest, love.
But she turns her face up,
looks into fathomless
eyes.
Kiss me again.
She needs to wash away
all the fighting,
to cover herself with
love.
A growl of need,
deep in his chest.
Always, Slayer.
The first kisses are
soft,
tender,
but soon they’re
clutching
at each other.
Buffy’s heart
rabbits in her chest
when Spike
nips at her throat—
not to bite,
just to
tease.
Soon,
like magic,
she is
uncovered.
Only Buffy.
Overwhelmed,
but entirely
herself.
Thank you.
She murmurs the words
into the shell of his ear.
He doesn’t say
anything,
just holds her
closer.
It’s answer
enough.
****
NaPoWriMo day 24 - buffy/spike and "kiss me again" for @vexbatch
#lirael writes#napowrimo23#buffy x spike#btvs#secret relationship#kissing#fandom poetry#i will always be soft for these two
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Napowrimo Day 24
Official Prompt:
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in the form of a review. But not a review of a book or a movie of a restaurant. Instead, I challenge you to write a poetic review of something that isn’t normally reviewed. For example, your mother-in-law, the moon, or the year you were ten years old.
My Prompt:
For today, I want you to take an image from nature and write describing it as something concrete. Avoid, if you can, any leanings towards discussing scents or sounds or slipping into what it reminds you of. Try to remain in the present and look at it almost as though it is a blueprint or an architect's specification.
Lucky Dip:
Bridges
#poetry#writerscorner#creative writing#new poets society#writing#spilledink#napowrimo#30 poems in 30 days
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Source: Found Poetry from Page 24 of The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson.
#thepoeming#shirleyjackson#hauntingofhillhousepoems#found poetry#30 poems in 30 days#napowrimo
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NaPoWriMo #1: And Vice Versa
Snake wrangler rates nine snake attacks in movies.
OK, then.
Our third baseman should be doing more yoga.
Selling crossword puzzles to the newspaper seemed like a dream job.
Danika wrote the first heart cento.
When she read it, my head nearly fell off.
I'm writing the second heart cento.
Titanic II, fare thee well.
It seems not at all like a good idea.
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NaPoWriMo #24
I dream that the desert takes me
My veins drain to a deep and verdant green
Acacia’s bone-white thorns reach up through my skin and keep growing
Sharp fingers grasping in the dim light
I feel flowers bloom as they climb
Up my throat to lie
Patiently behind my teeth
A lizard crawls inside my ear
Pushing its scaly head deeper
Until my scream scatters thin yellow petals across the floor
I lie there long enough to choke on a gasp
As my bones collapse into rocky soil
And thin fibrous roots wind through what’s left
The echoes of a ribcage
A half-sunken pelvis
There is a nest of mourning doves in the hollow of my chest
Cooing like the sunrise
I wake up before the lizard can skitter back out
Through a molding eye socket
I cannot decide
As my heart batters against a still-solid chest
If this is beautiful
Or disgusting
And I do not look at the golden blossoms
Hiding in my carpet
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Frozen, Dormant, Vital
Not under the weather, I'm along for it's ride
low when it's lifeless, bright when it shines
& leave it to me to live in extremes
frozen from Hudson to James Bay
dormant the long Bitterroot winter
& home is a place now, precise
vital only in the abiding sun
an uncompromise
a one of one
-
A. Wylde
April 27th, 2024
NaPoWriMo 24/30
#poems#poetry#poem#napowrimo#national poetry writing month#napowrimo24#a wylde#atlas wylde#awyldepoetry#spilled ink
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