2025 NaPM 2 April

[RiverNotch]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.


This year, there are no form requirements, only "tiers" or "rankings" given informally to all participants:

Bronze Tier: Participate at least once.

Silver Tier: Participate all days.

Gold Tier: Participate all days, and have all entries be the same form or have all entries be different forms.


Write a poem involving magic...or fraud.

[dukealien]

In the First Place


Inflation’s not so hard to understand:
the government takes certain monies in
‘til it’s got all the moolah it can get
so much as groaning taxpayers will bear.

From there, a legal magic comes about:
replete, the treasury spends all it got
and then mints more bright tokens to support
unending purchases.  All tokens pass
diluted, equal, every one worth less.

[Form:  Acrostic]

[RiverNotch]

As did the sun herald the seasons
by every passage through the ecliptic,
so did the stars by their aureola
fashion the psyche, or so went the laws
held with conviction even by Newton,

likewise the birthright of Galileo,
Kopernik, Kepler, and all the lesser
lights who then laid, through blind observance,
guileless conjecture, and dilligent math
paths to transform heavenly wisdom

first to mere magic, robbed of all logic,
then to a con: signs without planets
houses abandoned, destiny's arrows
now a mere paycheck, as fits the guest's mood.

[Mark A Becker]

C'mon in! step right this way!
From outta your hat pull a poem a day.
What sleight of hand
shall I put into play?

Should I conceal similes
like squirrels hiding nuts,
or just be plain spoken,
no ifs, ands, or buts?

Should I be concerned
if my meter teeters,
or just play along
like follow the leader?

Will some trick I perform
make a reader applaud,
or will I wind up sawed
in half as a fraud?

Step right this way! It's free to play!
From outta your hat pull a poem a day.
For my first trick, keep your focus clear
and your eyes right here

(as I disappear)

[Tiger the Lion]

In the First Place


Inflation’s not so hard to understand:
the government takes certain monies in
‘til it’s got all the moolah it can get
so much as groaning taxpayers will bear.

From there, a legal magic comes about:
replete, the treasury spends all it got
and then mints more bright tokens to support
unending purchases.  All tokens pass
diluted, equal, every one worth less.

[Form:  Acrostic]

First time seeing an apostrophe in an acrostic. Nice.

[depressedmetalhead]

Don't do what others tell you!
Work for your own heart!
And don't mind
as I tell you where to start!
Listen to my words, and I'll be sure
that your personality is pure!
Click that button, join my fans, come and see
the legion of others all becoming
Their true* selves thanks to me!

*"true" is subject to opinion, and I therefore legally cannot be held liable if you are dissatisfied with the results. Side effects of listening to me may include but are not limited to: false sense of security, loss of individuality, failure to see the real world, lack of actual mental health help, and feelings of not being enough.

[Mark A Becker]

*"true" is subject to opinion, and I therefore legally cannot be held liable if you are dissatisfied with the results. Side effects of listening to me may include but are not limited to: false sense of security, loss of individuality, failure to see the real world, lack of actual mental health help, and feelings of not being enough.

the disclaimer is funny as hell

[busker]

I am with Percy on this one

Percy died at 29 in 1822
having buried three children
a lover
maybe dogs and cats too.
And so he knew, he knew
about the human condition,
the wandering Jew,
the layabout minstrel,
more than you.

I’m with Percy
that poetry grows on you -
fresh young saplings
become churchyard yews.

That poetry is magic.
Read on a mountain height
on snow white blanket
pages. By sages
old in song and story
seeking the flame
and some, the fame
of hermit glory.
Poetry is magic
on the lips of a tragic
Romeo. The vaulty heaven,
he says. The unleavened
bread eaten, at dawn
an unrested Mary.

There is poetry
and poetry is fraud
it indicates a god
behind the machinations.
Perhaps not too good
at public relations -
see the rapes, murders, and violence!

But in the faint traces
of perfection in the stars.

Nothing should make sense
yet here we are.

There is no magic
but in the spaces
where there’s silence.

[Mark A Becker]

There is no magic
but in the spaces
where there’s silence.

The last stanza is a poem all on its own.

---

In the First Place

It's fraud
... but of course. Good one duke

[brynmawr1]

I am with Percy on this one

Percy died at 29 in 1822
having buried three children
a lover
maybe dogs and cats too.
And so he knew, he knew
about the human condition,
the wandering Jew,
the layabout minstrel,
more than you.

I’m with Percy
that poetry grows on you -
fresh young saplings
become churchyard yews.

That poetry is magic.
Whether read on a mountain height
where the snows are like white
blank pages. Or by sages
old in song and story
seeking the flame
and some, the fame
of hermit glory.
Poetry is magic
on the lips of a tragic
Romeo. The vaulty heaven,
he says. The unleavened
bread eaten, at dawn
an unrested Mary.

There is poetry
and poetry is fraud
it indicates a god
behind the machinations.
Perhaps not too good
with public relations -
look at the rapes, the murders, the violence!

But in the faint traces
of perfection in the stars.

Nothing should make sense
yet here we are.

There is no magic
but in the spaces
where there’s silence.

beautiful piece, Busker.  Last stanza, particularly.  Worth keeping around and workshopping.

---

As did the sun herald the seasons
by every passage through the ecliptic,
so did the stars by their aureola
fashion the psyche, or so went the laws
held with conviction even by Newton,

likewise the birthright of Galileo,
Kopernik, Kepler, and all the lesser
lights who then laid, through blind observance,
guileless conjecture, and dilligent math
paths to transform heavenly wisdom

first to mere magic, robbed of all logic,
then to a con: signs without planets
houses abandoned, destiny's arrows
now a mere paycheck, as fits the guest's mood.

Bravo River!  Another worth workshopping.

---

We Burn Women, Not Witches

Vaccines, not too hard to understand.
Like a cheat sheet on a college exam

giving you the edge on that deadly
pop quiz.  Cause you know, right?

That professor always out to get you
to study and learn; prepare yourself

for the next final exam. There is no magic,
just biology and common sense.

[rowens]

The Evolution of the Peacock

Friend, you are born with all
the weapons of a soft creature.
Your creator is your past.

Open your present to investigation.
Silent as the truths hidden in banknotes.
All appearances have the same rights as foreigners.

Any future is your enemy.
Death and change are plain prose.
Clear, open and free from and with all apparencies is the mystery of the deck.