NaPM April 3 2014

[milo]

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.

Topic 3: Today's topic is from justcloudy. "Write a poem that features an insect (or many)
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

[ChristopherSea]

Pest

Please leave my species alone, your
presence is akin to the plague.
Better scuttle back to your nest,
on those thorny chitinous legs.

How I loathe your acrid parlance,
its vitriol and vinegar.
Do not taint my multihued blooms,
spoil their delicate nectar.

Heartless below that carapace;
with one stomp, all threat would be snubbed,
your hemolymph oozing sickly
green and fertilizing my shrubs.

Lie low in the dark sodden loam
beside the decomposing wood,
exiled to your repulsive realm
in the shadow of the Monkshood.

[Truerenigma]

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.

Topic 3: Today's topic is from justcloudy. "Write a poem that features an insect (or many)
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

This one is too hard? Does that qualify as a question?

[milo]

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.

Topic 3: Today's topic is from justcloudy. "Write a poem that features an insect (or many)
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

This one is too hard? Does that qualify as a question?

Just write a poem with bugs in it. Or , in your case, have your woman compare you to a cockroach this time as she walks out the door.

[Truerenigma]

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.

Topic 3: Today's topic is from justcloudy. "Write a poem that features an insect (or many)
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

This one is too hard? Does that qualify as a question?

Just write a poem with bugs in it. Or , in your case, have your woman compare you to a cockroach this time as she walks out the door.

I don't get it. Should I? This time /my/ woman?

What did I miss?

What did she compare me to last time?

---

It could just be me. Sometimes I'm a little slow when the joke's on me. I'm just not very self-aware - much like an animal, or a ... a ... hey ... waitaminute... an insect!

[shemthepenman]

humanism is a sickness


I used to have six beautiful legs.
I used to be so free;
until some twisted karma made
a biped out of me.

(and
four
more
lines...)

[Keith]

On the cubicle door

I’m supposed to be working,
not staring out the window
at a fluttering frantic dance,
Its body twitches more than its wings,
something takes me to the light.

I've held so soft the gentle steps
of netted butterflies but yet,
my body and its hair alarms,
stand up on neck and both forearms,
a rising tide against the charms
of the ugly monstrous moth.

It tapped again and asked my name
then whispered through the glass.
I see your sweat and would like to bet,
we trapped you in a toilet.
On camp field loos we made you choose,
between paper and pure panic.
Stuck in your space we moths embraced,
the spirit of the manic.
Two on your head one on your leg,
the fourth we cannot mention.
You half way through a number two,
upped sticks and made a dash.
Out through the door slipped on the floor,
skid marks and gravel rash.

[Truerenigma]

Flies

Do you hear the flies too? The constant tapping
at the screen always reminds me of you.
Summertime in Washington, the Cascades,
was so different from this place I live in
now; no meadows edged with berry bushes,
no rope swings into the river; flies do
tap though, paradoxically -
one wants in, the other wants out. I can't
make up my mind either.

[ellajam]

Yikes

The cedar glider sat out on the dock
covered in snow or baked in the sun,
sometimes just it and the wind would rock
without us they had their own fun.
Suddenly one day we heard a faint hum,
searched the dock as we followed the song.
At last we found where it was coming from:
my old glider, oh that was just wrong.
It had never played a tune before,
certainly no symphonies.
We spotted a hole, then several more,
it was filled with carpenter bees!
The trusty glider, now a hollow shell,
was sent to old furniture hell.

Tomorrow's another day

[Erthona]

Some days were nice
you’d get the sun in a slice
between the bees and the leaves.
Some days the sky would boil,
full of angry dark pearls,
tornadoes they would hurl!
Some days are the best,
like today when it’s
.......................just cloudy.

[milo]

Helping my mother move out of the family home

Two flights of stairs
and who'd have thought she'd bother
moving after all these years, "without your father
I just don't need the space and there's
the lawn, the boiler, keeping up on stuff."

I've got the heavy end, her old couch friction-burns
my palms as my brother
guides around the turns
then two more trips - 2 lamps an "antique plate",

my mother whispers through the psalms
(She got it down at Kmart for $1.88)
until my brother cries -enough-

My mother calms,
"Take a break, after all it's hot."
On the concrete stoop we drink a beer
and stare at ants that march around the gate.

She told me once - an ant can lift 10 times his weight
But that's OK, they don't look like they weigh a lot.

[Truerenigma]

Helping my mother move out of the family home

Two flights of stairs
And who'd have thought she'd bother
Moving after all these years, "without your father
I just don't need the space and there's
The lawn, the boiler, keeping up on stuff."

I've got the heavy end, her old couch friction-burns
My palms as my brother
Guides around the turns
Then two more trips - 2 lamps an "antique plate",

My mother whispers through the psalms
(She got it down at Kmart for $1.88)
Until my brother cries -enough-

My mother calms
"Take a break, after all it's hot"
On the concrete stoop we drink a beer
And stare at ants as they march around the gate

She told me once - an ant can lift 10 times his weight
But that's OK, they don't look like they weigh a lot.

I'll be repeating that last line next time someone mentions the strength of ants.

[justcloudy]

The Big Move

Dad rented the dump in New Jersey
over the phone, pacing our yard
in Kansas. Mom shook her head slowly
but there was no other way, I heard
daddy say. Movers packed up our stuff
and all seven of us piled into our gold
Toyota Previa. Three days and many prayers later
we saw our new home. Mom cried. Even at eight
I knew that dark and dank didn’t begin to describe
the rank, shaggy interior, filled with buzzing.
Big brother and I explored behind, but turned back
and reported to dad that all the mosquitoes came
from the pond down the hill.

That night we squeezed into Days Inn room 213.
I lay between the queens on a folded bedspread
and scratched and scratched and scratched.

---

Some days were nice
you’d get the sun in a slice
between the bees and the leaves.
Some days the sky would boil,
full of angry dark pearls,
tornadoes they would hurl!
Some days are the best,
like today when it’s
.......................just cloudy.

;D

---

humanism is a sickness


I used to have six beautiful legs.
I used to be so free;
until some twisted karma made
a biped out of me.

(and
four
more
lines...)

I think the line requirement is more of a suggestion, or should be anyway. This one really made me chuckle!

[cidermaid]

A blight in the orchards of Eden.
You looked small and insignificant
when first you alighted.
That first bite pieced as light
and you oozed a sweet succour,
secreted from your being, like the sap
you sucked from under my skin,
that is now wrinkled and dry.

My outer bark peels and withers
as I slowly loose my vigour and die
from the kiss of your lips.
That soft white fluffy exterior,
hides your colonising lies;
each one of which makes five
more lies come to life and take flight
for each blighted word that exists.

So the cycle begins, spring is here,
birds and flowers have appeared.
And you arise once again
to crawl and creep from the deep
depths of my ingrafted family roots.
I will flood and flow into new growth
buds, but this season I will know
that I need to wage war.

Woolly apple aphids beware!

[Brownlie]

The Bee

I sat Imbibing flames atop
A mountain road at night
And caught a buzzing radio hum
That told of tragic blight.

I drove towards wastelands high
And heard apocalypse
Was near and we would cease to be
Because the bugs were hit

By smoke that billowed out our machines.
My caravan grumbled low
Beneath my feet . Encased in steel
I sat a cinder glowing

Off my final fires that ate
The air of night. “The bee”
I thought, “ is not a second coming.
After A comes B.”

[Mopkins]

Mosquito (2)

Hmm he goes when you talk to him
hmm he goes when you snap
hmm he goes when you’re tired and
trying to have a nap.

He’s hovering around your head
when the lighting is dim,
swipe at the sound you will, but still
you’ll hear his murmured hymn.

[Todd]

Sartre, No Exits, and Glass Elevators

Beneath the chocolate river is a pipe.
Given enough pressure a stuck boy
can be dislodged with a pop
like a champagne cork.

Upon impact, this boy will slide down
a chute for bad nuts
to land bruised beside the juicing press.

In this room of no mirrors
Augustus Gloop like a dung beetle
will push the Blueberry Girl
across the floor to prevent the inevitable explosion
of words from the Salt Girl.

In this room where there is nothing
to acquire, and only each other
with the stench of chocolate

and a terrible hunger.