NaPM 11 April 2022

[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.

Topic: Write a poem in honor of a particular animal.

Form: Ode, after Pindar, in three parts; meter and rhyme aren't strict

Line Requirement: At least 12

[Mark A Becker]

Merlin, though you are lord
of no country, you are the guardian
of hallways, a nocturnal magician
performing early morning miracles.

Your eye beams search each shadow;
you check out noises at any window.
As if according to some secret plan
every corner is at your command.

You guide every hand by silent demand,
nudging your head in for soft petting
and firm scratching behind ears.
You measure time in naps, not years.

Merlin, though you are lord of no country
you keep your humans under control,
each one knows what role you give,
and so, maybe, you’ll let them live.

[Semicircle]

It appears we've just entered Mark's element.

[CRNDLSM]

The weeks wore us into turd,
Coworkers calling out sick
Working the holidays is hard
A symbol of hope, a hawk
Perched the fence in our back yard
No more anxiety, luck
Let out the dogs, and the bird
Flew off with a little Chihuahua.

When mom and dad heard
We were under attack
Even though we had no guard
Their lawyers dropped the case haha

[TranquillityBase]

Abominable Showmen of the Himalayas

After Intermission, K. Howard-Bury, 
a seasoned performer sent to Katmandu, 
explored very well, getting another good laugh. 

He put out the footlights then returned in a nightgown. 
A woman, a small pocket lamp on her face, 
was allowed some time and considerable effort 
far above the clouds, singing   
If You'll Go Fifty-Fifty With Me, I'll Go Sixty-Forty With You. 

The Indian telegraphist then took a turn 
from the Tibetan side with   
All She Could Say Was Mmm, Mmm, Mmm.

The Evening Light suddenly went out 
and carrying a feather fan dyed by those creatures 
(who had once been but slippers) 
Lady Peacock made her entrance and sang  
 I'll Be With You When The Clouds Roll By.

When they were done, 
we were treated to an Abominable Snowman number. 
The Missing Link sang  You're Too Pretty To Be Lonesome . 
This creature left and reentered in tuxedo 
to scattered applause.

Lady Peacock, approaching from the northern face, 
saw a number of dark forms moving about on the snowfield. 
The haunting melody of "I'll Never Let You Drive My Motor Car" 
was then heard wafting in from off stage.

Lord Peacock seemed to be disconcerted 
and a rescue expedition sang 
"I'm Tired Playing Second Fiddle to You”.

[dukealien]

Ode to the Brown-Headed Cowbird


Now let us praise the wonderful
sagacity, philanthropy
and conservation values of
Brown-Headed Cowbirds whose
efficient style of living must
endear them to mere humans.

She wastes no straw in building nests
contributes her own eggs to those
of other birds and leaves her chicks
for foster mothering
and making winning ways in life
dispatching their false siblings.

But then we humans cry against
poor Cowbirds for their way of life
as if they had a choice in it
and find their lifestyle odious
as if no humans ever
did the like.

[RiverNotch]

goshdarnit duke, that fits the bill so good xD pun not intended, but from what little i understand of the whole strophe-antistrophe-epode thing, that fits it to a t
also TqB i loved what you did for the sappho prompt, just commenting now cuz i figure it's too late to comment in the older thread or something, idk -- but it was so clean

[Semicircle]

Moth breaks loose
from the rattle,
careening from ear
to shredded web.

Reeling it inside
writhing and flapping,
the spider wraps moth up
and hisses in gratitude.

What a handsome creature.
All I would need, is the ok,
to give it a rat or toad-
perhaps my cat
with mouse, still in mouth.

It only asks moths,
but I could feed so much
that it deserves.

[RiverNotch]

Regard the terrier, black and white,
who paces vigilant the cushion's edge,
who leaps, stalks, and leaps again
and, if a miss, who gives chase
in a mad dance to snap shut
his jaws around a roach.

Regard the silence he desires
when he begins to dig at tile,
when he is held close to the breast.
Regard his eyes, his unshorn hair
browning then greying, his snorting at play
and snoring at rest.

Regard his leaping with his prize
twitching and bleeding white in his mouth.
Regard his smile at a job well done,
at the plates pierced open to spill the guts,
at the legs twisted, wings shredded, and mandibles
pulsing with movement, opening and closing
as if the victim cries for mercy.
Regard the stain he leaves on the cushion
and the sound of scraping from behind the door.

---

Maybe I could structure this better, hmm....

---

Okay, quick revision:

Regard the terrier, black and white,
who paces vigilant the cushion's edge,
who perks up his ears at a subtle hiss
then leaps down, sniffs, and leaps again
and, if a miss, gives loud chase
in a mad dance to snap shut
his jaws around a roach.

Regard his smile at a job well done,
at the plates pierced open to spill the guts,
at the legs twisted, wings shredded, and mandibles
pulsing with movement, opening and closing
as if the victim cries for mercy.
Regard the stain he leaves on the cushion:
mangled black scales spilling white.

Regard the silence he desires
when he begins to dig at tile,
when he is held close to the breast.
Regard his eyes, his unshorn hair
browning then greying, his snorting at play
and snoring at rest. Regard his smell:
cinnamon bark with a hint of piss.

[Semicircle]

Regard the terrier, black and white,
who paces vigilant the cushion's edge,
who leaps, stalks, and leaps again
and, if a miss, who gives chase
in a mad dance to snap shut
his jaws around a roach.

Regard the silence he desires
when he begins to dig at tile,
when he is held close to the breast.
Regard his eyes, his unshorn hair
browning then greying, his snorting at play
and snoring at rest.

Regard his leaping with his prize
twitching and bleeding white in his mouth.
Regard his smile at a job well done,
at the plates pierced open to spill the guts,
at the legs twisted, wings shredded, and mandibles
pulsing with movement, opening and closing
as if the victim cries for mercy.
Regard the stain he leaves on the cushion
and the sound of scraping from behind the door.

---

Maybe I could structure this better, hmm....

---

Okay, quick revision:

Regard the terrier, black and white,
who paces vigilant the cushion's edge,
who perks up his ears at a subtle hiss
then leaps down, sniffs, and leaps again
and, if a miss, gives loud chase
in a mad dance to snap shut
his jaws around a roach.

Regard his smile at a job well done,
at the plates pierced open to spill the guts,
at the legs twisted, wings shredded, and mandibles
pulsing with movement, opening and closing
as if the victim cries for mercy.
Regard the stain he leaves on the cushion:
mangled black scales spilling white.

Regard the silence he desires
when he begins to dig at tile,
when he is held close to the breast.
Regard his eyes, his unshorn hair
browning then greying, his snorting at play
and snoring at rest. Regard his smell:
cinnamon bark with a hint of piss.

My spider and your dog would be friends,
one would end up eating the other I'm thinkin'

I like the idea of flat brained dog 
taking enjoyment out of killing a roach,
I imagine its doofy grin
as it rips it apart.

[TranquillityBase]

An Episode from The Great Spring Offensive



Normally the phones rang incessantly,
those serving at headquarters 
did their work quietly, walking softly
and bringing cigarettes sent from the rear
to the staff cadres answering the telephones.

It was early spring.
The willow forests of Tan Nguyen
had not yet put out their leaves
and the noon heat was all the more sultry.
The sounds of all kinds of insects
and the cry of peacocks blended
with the cannon fire echoing in the distance.
There was the drone of reconnaissance planes 
hanging overhead, searching for targets.

All telephone lines were suddenly broken off.
There came the trumpeting of a herd of elephants, 
gradually growing louder.
The headquarters guard was sent out 
but ordered not to open fire
and to avoid making them angry.

Everyone was ordered into the reinforced bunker.

There’s nothing wrong with running from elephants.

This is from a collage, original can be seen here I hope:


https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1...sp=sharing