April 20 NaPoMo 2021
#1
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 20, 2021

Topic: Write a catastrophic weather rondelet

Form: rondelet

Line Requirement: at least 7 lines

It's safe to drink.
I don't have to demonstrate, what?
It's safe to drink!
We know what top scientists think,
The earthquake forced the plant to shut
down, the wave washed it to sea but
it's safe to drink.
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Reply
#2
Is this the end?
All life but mankind turned to glass.
Is this the end?
Except the ants that ride the wind
they come at night to strip our skin
and we can crystallize at last.
Is this the end?
Reply
#3
Mi tormenta,
I will not run from you tonight,
mi tormenta.
Smite the atmosphere magenta
and send more anxious birds to flight.
Your bark's as sexy as your bite,
mi tormenta.
Reply
#4
Atlantic Hurricane

Deep in the mud
our precious pieces still reside,
deep in the mud
we prayed then saved all that we could
and begged the rivers not to rise,
still dredging the dead from our eyes,
deep in the mud.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Reply
#5
My Mountain Home

My mountain home-
a blackened shell is all I found.
My mountain home-
wildfires burnt it down to stone.
I cannot hear one living sound
among charred silence all around
my mountain home.
Reply
#6
These are great guys and I have really been enjoying the quality of everything you have been writing, how did we get to 20 out of 30 so quickly ? Great stuff and a massive thank you to CRNDSLM for being the dedicated master of ceremonies.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Reply
#7
Wharoosh, wharoosh!
Jill Wind howled loudly through the trees...
wharoosh, wharoosh!
She shouted in the branches, whoosh!
and brought an old oak to his knees
while laughing in a wild wheeze...
wharoosh, wharoosh!
Reply
#8
The Blowing of a Blizzard

The wrath of a blizzard blows.
How tragic in its snow blowing hard.
The wrath of a blizzard blows.
Its goes and goes, its makes a throw.
Into the void and creates an avalanche
through, into the fields and makes a push.
The wrath of a blizzard blows.
Reply
#9
Cold Snap

Cold kills, you know.
Dry heat of drought may parch, no doubt.
Cold kills.  YOU know.
Hot forests burn from lightning’s clout
and man-caused warming’s wailed about.
But even when the Sun is out
cold kills, you know.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#10
The dying of the bush

One hot summer day, a gusty wind
scorched the lily pilly's leaves,
for want of watering.
Spiders spun their webs
between thin branches.
Snails moved on to the hibiscus.
And at night, cars coming up the hill
shone their lights again.
I had hoped for a red-green canopy
with butterflies in spring, white clouds
on a blue sky. Or maybe I was remembering
a postcard. Next spring
it'll be camellias.
Reply




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