April 8 NaPoMo 2021
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.

NaPM April 8, 2021

Topic: write a poem, rhyming or non-rhyming about anything, consisting of four or more couplets

Form: couplets

Line Requirement: 8 or more

Our teacher told us during class
That in our future we'll need math

We won't have access to a cal-
culator in the grocery aisle.

The tricks we learn to quick tip staff
Will save us dough when service lags.

It's funny now, who could've known?
The future of the telephone.
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
The Versifier's Lament

Writing couplets makes me sick at heart
Always makes me want to wail.
Couplet number two is just another start
One more way to fluff the sail.
Third not last is like an eyeless art
Broken glass and bleeding hands that flail.
Fourth and final, left with just a fart
Fitting end to what was bound to fail.
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
Fault Lines

I’m old enough to remember things
that never happened, and forget some things that did.

Old enough to speak of a past in which I was
barely present, though I thought I was on firm ground.

I’ve risen up from those depths like a volcano-
a mile high mountain with its head blown off.

That red, billowing cloud rising up in the distance-
that’s me, my age erupting.
Indefinite Defined

“Anything!” How simple yet abstruse
a tag that’s grasped by any silly goose

with total lack of understanding, said
by passing wits who should have stood in bed--

does “any” overleap the class of life
or “thing” restrict it to dumb objects rife

with sure inanimation? Rather, say
“Whatever,” shrug, and waddle on your way.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
It buddhist belief

Sapling’s rise from the forest floor
In times when trees can walk no more.
They teach the ways of root and leaf
and cut the ragweed from belief.

As sure as sun will bring the rain 
the laws of droplets can be changed.
The owl that turns his head to see
will be at one with all that breathe.

A flower-bud bursts into life
the bloom so bright it carries light,
a cry announced into the world,
yet still the blossom starts to curl.

Of spiders that rebuild each web
and walk the path step by step,
with nothing and no need of choice
Nirvana is the silenced voice.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Dad comes at 3, just as he said he would,
to make the boiler cupboard shelving good.

I ask if he wants tea; but no, not yet,
he's getting out some sort of drilling set.

He warns it might be loud and shuts the door
(the office one), and then he starts to bore.

An hour or less, the shelves are looking great;
I place Dad's favourite biscuits on a plate.

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