A silly Afrikaan love poem

Hello hello. Today’s Napowrimo prompt is to write a translation poem. I choose an African silly poem . Love.

Jy’s die glimlag op my bakkies,

die foto in my plastiese sakkies.

Jy’s die suiker in my konfyt,

die vrede in my moeilikheid.

A silly Afrikaan love poem

You die
grimacing on my back
A dead photo in plastic sack
You die
Sugar in my coffee
death in my molecules

Ella earthworm- twenty two

Good evening. A little late as it’s been a long, long day. Today’s prompt was a children’s poem and I’m grateful of a short poem. Love. X

Ella earthworm

Ella is a pink and squiggly earthworm
Ella’s favourite things to do are to eat dirt and to squirm
Wriggle and giggle
Under the grass, under the ground

But you won’t hear her coming
Because she doesn’t make a sound
She doesn’t have legs
So she doesn’t need any socks
She does not have eyes
So she never reads picture books

But she’s clever
Oh so clever
And can help farmers till the soil
That grows the potatoes
Granny likes to boil

Clever Ella
Clever little earthworm
Now I know what good you do
Never will I squeal at you
Never will I squirm
Lovely, squiggly, pink and clever Ella

New York school poem ‘oh Peaches, you were sweet’ day twenty one

Hello hello. Today’s prompt was to write a New York school poem, using the ingredients or recipe they gave. Times, dates, cultural references, named person, the use of dialect is just a few of them. Love. X

oh Peaches, you sure were sweet

peaches can be sweet
sweeter than the brown sugar cubes
the posh kind
arranged artistically on the table
as I sit in the art-house Corner-house coffee shop

drinking tea on a Monday
they show foreign films in the afternoon
but that doesn’t interest me
I’m waiting to talk about poetry
as if
poetry was something you talk about

the waitress had given me two spoons
and I wonder whether she knows
something I don’t

The waitress is reading a dog-eared week old Metro newspaper
like waitresses always do in art-house movies
and I think fuck
Is there some black and white beatnik guide to waitressing that I forgot to read?

on the front page is bottle-blonde peach
Peaches Geldof and her boys
she’s in the morgue
While the world debates her celebrity
and the world sure likes to debate

but not real life diggity-deep deal issues
like whether plastic bottles
contributes to global warming
but irate debates about whether
the same sex marriage act 2013

was responsible for the flooding
of New York on June 28th
my friend in Lindenhurst
sent me a photograph of a freezer

floating down the street in Fort Plain
“Thought you could write a poem about this” he says
in that way
men will often point out a rainbow in the middle of a fight

but I don’t
I write instead of a grieving father
whose chest cavern is a flood
a volcano, a hurricane of tears

his landscape has changed forever
and the world continues to debate
the number of column lines
They should give to the girl
whose star did not shine enough
with celebrity

and me
I stir my tea
with two silver spoons
grateful for the sun reflected
Through the glass windows
Peaches, you sure were sweet

Ghost – day twenty

Hello hello. Three weeks in and still having fun. Today’s napowrimo prompt was to write in the voice of a family member but I found that near impossible so wrote notes about a ventriloquist . Love


When I could not give voice
To another
I read a book about ventriloquists
How the Greeks thought the stomach
Held the voices of the un-living
The dead
The never meant to be born
How temple prophets warned
Talked in belches and acid reflux
Of a world beyond men

And I think about that day
Three years, five months, twenty six minutes and seven seconds after
You went to a world beyond men
And I stood paralysed in a thunderstorm
Drenched in grief and fury
On a busy street
In the middle of the day
With traffic passing
Emitting a dreadful feral howl
That drained from the bile of my stomach
A belly cry to the sky
And I said goodbye
To your ghost

Shuttlecock volva – day nineteen

Hello hello. Today’s prompt was to write a poem from an odd list of names for sea-shells. I choose shuttlecock vulva. Enjoy. X

Shuttlecock volva

He loved me like a shuttlecock volva
Back and forth
Back and forth
more salty than the sea
His heart

Norse god
All seeing philandering prophet dog
With eyes darker that fog
More salty than the sea
My tears
Back and forth
Back and forth

He loved me like a shuttlecock volva
Not at all

The art of being a woman. Day seventeen

Hello hello, today’s prompt is to write using the senses. I’m having a lazy dressing gown day so I thought I’d write about the only thing I’ve done, other than eat copious amounts of chocolate, which was remove traces of last nights make -up. I thought I’d try a American cinquain to give it more focus. Happy Thursday and love. X

The art of being a woman

Lavender wipe removes the mask
Toner – a cool cotton-bud goodbye kiss on her cheek
Herself she applies, moisturises and cries
Taste tears

Lies to tell the moon – Day sixteen

Hello, hello lovely Napowrimo’s. Today’s prompt was to write a ten line poem of ten lies , silly or otherwise. Love.

Lies to tell the moon

Poets do not write of you
do not make you their muse
Moon, you have no particular beauty
You are simply made of cheese

I am not the sea – so ignorant to your phases
you do not affect my moods
I can do , I can do
I can do whatever I please

And the man you kindly gave a home
does not sing lullabies to soothe
But steals seeds from mother’s wombs
To use as wind-catchers on his roof

Moon, moon, I do not believe
That grief lasts only one day
one rotation – one blink of silver eye
You know nothing of love, moon
238, 855 miles away in the sky


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