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Another somewhat underrepresented year is 2019, and its 25 April prompt seems especially juicy. By Quix: Quote: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 25, 2019
Topic: write a dramatic monologue in response to the work of one NaPM participant. Specify in the title which participant. You can respond to one or all of that participant’s NaPM poems.
Form: dramatic monologue
Line Requirement: any
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I did not say much
I did not say much
the last time
that I would see you,
in Florida.
We stood quietly
then, on the shore
of the Gulf, and watched
the sun set.
But I want you to know
Dad, that I do visit
from time to time
now,
to talk,
to the wind.
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Busker's "Unlike Jesus"
DJT, Oh DJT!
I was ecstatic to see a poem
that mentioned the monster in a box
America has been cradling now
for seven long years
a cyclops ready to pop out again
as long as we keep turning the organ handle.
And oh, we keep turning
feeling the climax march upon us.
"I am your retribution" indeed.
We are all like Odysseus
trapped inside his hideous funhouse.
It just seemed odd,
his absence here in Pig Pen.
Hard to explain but the boil
has been lanced by your pen.
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Well Tim, I love the way you wrote this:
... the monster in a box
America has been cradling now
for seven long years
a cyclops ready to pop out again
as long as we keep turning the organ handle.
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Mark A. Becker Not Saying Much (WTF)
So I said to the guy,
you got a good line there,
sentimental-like.
You say a lot without saying too much:
it’s easy on the eyes,
easy on the time clock.
Easy on the thinker,
or especially the heart–
not so much.
If I was the weepy kind,
you had me at “Dad.”
Because, you know,
everybody’s got a Mom
but everybody’s also got a Dad
they never got to know.
Non-practicing atheist
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04-26-2023, 03:44 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-26-2023, 04:02 AM by TranquillityBase.)
(04-25-2023, 02:35 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: I did not say much
I did not say much
the last time
that I would see you,
in Florida.
We stood quietly
then, on the shore
of the Gulf, and watched
the sun set.
But I want you to know
Dad, that I do visit
from time to time
now,
to talk,
to the wind.
Hey Mark, this is a real heart breaker of a poem. So spare but so poignant.
I skimmed through most of NaPM, re-reading a lot, in trying to think about whose poem or work to address. I just want to say it's pretty effing impressive to be with you folks, with special kudos for some I haven't encountered before (as much) like WJ James and Quix. Though there've been times I wanted to give up, it's a charge to be in your company. I could have written about any of a dozen more that have shown up in our group.
Anyway, big squeal from a little pig.
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WJames has been killing it
The basement seems spacious
Considering the walls closing in
On a regular basis
Making the room magically spin
The windows probably help a lot
The feet aren't walking all over you
Good air flow prolly doesn't get too hot
That dust though could smother you
I dunno
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
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All ye poets
This NaPM's been a-bustle
with all our poets singing.
Any other side hustle
and the cash registers'd be ringing.
Now it's all right if you're old with gnarly joints,
which is a great many of us here,
unafraid of death, but harbouring the fear
of losing online debates on vague technical points.
But if you're relatively young, like Rivernotch
or CRNDLSLM, all your poesy and song
is time better spent in mapping the Hmong
genome (there's money in biotech),
or developing apps for more social interaction among
the cretins of the world, to keep things chaotic.
O, poesy is such a waste of time,
they should charge a pretty penny for the deployment of rhyme.
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for mark xP
Thinking in verse first thing in the morning?
Hubris, perhaps, or a monk's training,
though I don't think what you often share
is psalmody. Still, the scroll unseals
and I sense the day when your eagerness
will far outstrip your energy
so all post number two will be
is "First".
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Thanks CRNDLSM - hopefully 'it' will be buried by the end of the month.
In Response to Rivernotch's beautiful NAPM 13
When you are used to a hot bath,
the prospect of tepid water
touching your skin
is an insult.
Try lying on a mattress
filled with goose down
hand plucked by Mexican virgins
with your stomach full
of camembert and merlot.
Try eating cake
on a yacht in greece
with a model who hates tanlines
and is looking to wound
her husband.
I insist on fantasy
within the confines of my home,
anything less is not living.
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(04-26-2023, 10:09 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: for mark xP
Thinking in verse first thing in the morning?
Hubris, perhaps, or a monk's training,
though I don't think what you often share
is psalmody. Still, the scroll unseals
and I sense the day when your eagerness
will far outstrip your energy
so all post number two will be
is "First".
Always Something Brewing
I dream verse all damn night long,
yet come morning I’ll get it all wrong.
The first thoughts I’m thinking
get stuck in my head, still back there
somewhere in my bed.
My thinking is heavy as bricks
'til I have my first coffee fix.
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