Napowrimo(23/30)- Eleven double Elevenies

1. Little Bird

Little Bird
Separated from flock
Just one minute apart

Little Bird
Finds her flock
But nobody remembers her

2. My Son

little son
in tiny hands
hold my whole world

little son
Can’t speak yet
makes the best speech

3. My Mother

dead, gone
holds a corner
in my heart, my

her memories
will go away
or I will forget

4. Forgive and Forget me

my faults,
my imperfections for
I am almost a

me, move-on
built a new
life away from me


5. Decision

He stands
calculating, looking back
wondering if he should

he stands
calculating, looking ahead
wondering if he should

6. Smile and Tear

Stretched lips
a warm welcome
Happiness at her core

Watery eyes
a heavy heart
Scarred soul that shatters

7. An act of terror

loud scary
killing civilians blindly
an act of terror

bruised, injured
dead, murdered coldly
people of all religions


8. Husband and Wife

And wife
mostly very kind
Had a messy fight

And wife
loved each other
went to point of
” no-return”

9. I said nothing

Timid scared
I said nothing
Because I was too

I saw
and said nothing
Because I was too

10. Doubt and Trust

slow poison
that destroys everything
love and relationships included

life’s blood
Inspires to improve
essential ingredient of all

11. Shoe

I see
on the highway
makes me think “Why?”

maybe, certainly
a foot lost
in best case scenario

Today’s challenges was to write a double Elevenie.
A double Elevenie would have two stanzas of five lines each, and twenty-two words in all.

Posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, Poetry | 19 Comments

Napowrimo(22/30)- Georgic – This is how you grow a happy tree

Anyone can stick a seed in mud
And let it grow into a sickly bud
This is how you grow a happy tree
Remember the following Big three


Treat your seed like your child
Talk to it, be gentle and be mild
Teach her things
Give her wings


She will love it-Sing her a song
Tell her there is nothing wrong
Tell her she is a beautiful tree
Sing her the songs of the bee


Show her some love – pure love, good love
Lots of love – sometimes love is enough
Hug your tree, love your tree
Set her beautiful spirit free

So This is how you grow a happy Tree
You give her wings, You set her free
Anyone can stick a seed in mud
And let it grow into a sickly bud

In honor of Earth Day, the challenge today was to write a georgic.

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Napowrimo (21/30)-Fridays- Overheard Conversation

I saw her on the bus to work every Friday
Have a Goood day” Cheerfully she would say

And then disappear until next Friday
A strange man walked up to her one day

and said he; “how come we see you say..
Good Morning only when it is a Friday

and not even a word on any other day
You ride as if you have nothing to say

“It is because I love only my Fridays”
She said and went on ” and maybe Saturdays..

Sundays are spend thinking about dreadful Mondays.,
I get Monday blues and I recover from them on Tuesdays

Boring middle of the week and nothing more are Wednesdays
And Thursdays are a whole day until my beautiful Fridays”

He said to her; “looks like you spend six days..
of your week waiting for your beautiful Fridays

If you live to be seventy years old someday
And you would reflect on your life one day

You will see that you lived for three thousand six hundred and fifty days
And that you have wasted in waiting Twenty One thousand nine hundred days

And each of those days could have been a Friday
If you had tried finding brightness in that day

Why not start now and find Fridays in all your days
Let Blue Mondays be beautiful as any of your Fridays

Let the dreadful Sundays be delightful as your Fridays
Let there be a smile hidden somewhere in your Saturdays

Welcome the warmth of your Wednesdays
Be Truthful to yourself on Tuesdays

Be thankful for yourself on Thursdays
Be happy, be positive, be radient-always

After that day I saw her on the bus to work everyday
“Have a Goood day” with a smile she would say

His words changed her life and mine too
So much wisdom wrapped in words so few

Challenge today was to write a poem that incorporates overheard speech.

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Napowrimo(20/30)-“Bunker Queen”-Inspired by Golf

As I took my position on the Tee
My short Iron flew like a Frisbee
The turf and grass exploded with the impact
The ball did not move; it remained intact

Upon my second try
people asked me why
As the ball flew off in a wrong direction “duck, duck”
They screamed; Someone barely got saved by their luck

The ball flew an inch away from their head
And landed on a very beautiful flower bed
In our group of three; I came in third
They called me “the little baby bird”

“I twisted my arm” said I to justify my bad game
Instead of learning;  I tried shifting the blame
“Slow” was one way to describe how I got to the Green
But that day I got a new nickname “The Bunker Queen”


Challenge today was to write a poem that is inspired by sports or a game.

Posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, Poetry | 5 Comments

Napowrimo(19/30)-Creation myth poem

An Old Man sat in his little shop called the Heaven
As he made little clay dolls in the batches of Seven
Gabriel, A curious passerby
Fascinated, stopped by
“These are too many beautiful dolls, I see
Where will you keep them? How will they be?”
The Old Man pointed to a little box in the corner
One fourth of which was clay; three fourth Water
In that box labelled “Earth”  said he
That is where my clay dolls shall be!
Gabriel asked: “How will they fit the box? Don’t you think it is a little too small”
The Old Man replied: ” I will create cycles of birth and death like rise and fall
From dust they are and to dust they shall return
They will live on earth not at once but turn by turn”
Gabriel questioned: “If you give them death, would not they be unhappy and fearful all the time”
The Old Man said: “I shall give them hope and dreams to live on; make death silent and sublime”
With that the Old Man gave his first doll HA the breath of life
And took out his rib and carved it into the most beautiful wife
Together they initiated the first cycle of life; they gave birth
to the first babies; Brought magic and life in the box called Earth


Challenge today was to write a poem on creation myth.


Posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, Poetry | 3 Comments

Napowrimo(18/30)-Neologisms-​I dream of a time in our Futuristory

I dream of a time in our Futuristory;
Age doesn’t matter and we are all the exact same age

That number of years are called Batoteendultsenage
Baby,  Toddler, Teenager, Adult and Senior in one age

I dream of a time in our Futuristory;

Where we all adhere to same one and only Religion
And that religion will be ; The religion of Chispajion
Made up of Christianity, Islam, et cetera; every religion

I dream of a time in our Futuristory;

Where we see ourselves as just one race and color
And that race; Afrolatcausiano and that color; Rainbolor
Which includes a shade of every Race and every Color

I dream of a time in our Futuristory;
Where we identify ourselves as one nation
And that nation calls itself a Unimanation
The all inclusive Universal Mankind’s Nation

I dream of a time in our Futuristory;

Where Humanity has evolved passed the point of differences
And we have converged at the point of our mutual  allerences
A beautiful time; where we live happily beyond our visiblerences

I dream of a time in our Futuristory!

The challenge today was to write Neologisms (incorporating new words, expressions).

Here are meanings of all neologisms used:

Futuristory;  Future History
Batoteendultsenage;  Baby,Toddler,Teenager,Adult and Senior age
Chispajions;  Christanity, Hinduisim, Islam, Sikhism, Pagans, All/ Atheisit/Agnostics, Jews/Jains, religions
Afrolatcausiano;  All/ Africans, Lationos, Caucasian, Asians
Rainbolor; Rainbow color
Unimanation; Universal Mankind’s Nation
Allerences; opposite of difference
Visiblerences; visible appearence

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Napowrimo (17/30)-Nocturne

In the wee hours of night
when everyone is sleeping
the baby
the dog
the husband
everyone – sleeping
And I have counted
every sheep that ever
every monkey that ever
every lion that ever
Eyes still wide
I wonder
Why did I drink
that extra large coffee
with double Expresso shots
so close to my



Challenge today was to write a nocturne.

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