not this

Once more into the breach dear friends…the poetry marathon continues and here on day 17 I am again inspired to combine two prompts. Firstly my buddies at Real Toads offer this:

Greetings Toadlings,

Congrats to all of you participating in the neck-breaking, poem-a-day marathon for National Poetry month.  Today’s challenge is all about challenges, and how we rise …or er, don’t or whatever.

Over // Under // Through

We’ve all got a lot of borders to hop, a lot of walls to climb, a lot of checkpoints to dodge. Write a poem detailing how you get by. This is also the theme for the opening issue of Nice Cage. If you are interested in submitting your work, please check out the submission guidelines and past issues at our home page.

So go now, my muddy buddies and bring us back something shiny and new!!!

Secondly we have the prompt at napowrimo

And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, I challenge you to write a nocturne. In music, a nocturne is a composition meant to be played at night, usually for piano, and with a tender and melancholy sort of sound. Your nocturne should aim to translate this sensibility into poetic form! Need more inspiration? Why not listen to one of history’s most famous nocturnes, Chopin’s Op. 9 No. 2?

Happy writing!

 

night falls

 

swirls of the ink of my subconscious

birth rorschach mandalas

 

into a spiral dance

 

the sinking of my connected bone

into the deep musty ground beneath

 

weighs

against the day’s labour

 

breath stills

and heartbeat slows

 

removing illusions gaze from my now

rapidly moving

eye

 

painting a fresh new deception for me to believe  in

 

 

here i may fly with dragons and dance with imp

 

here i may swim in the earth and walk upon the waters

 

here i may love endlessly and without fault

 

splashing stars and moons upon firmament’s canvas

 

with creator’s finger

 

 

here i dream and rejuvenate

repair and make good

 

here

i get by

 

with a little help from my

 

reality bends

and curves to a new perspective

and all that was

is

not this

 

just like lucy’s sky

 

caressed by the gentle rhythms of nocturne’s song

i am lulled into the thought that all is real here

 

but in truth

 

my wakefulness

 

 

my torpor

 

are the twin sides of a coin named

 

 

*Māyā

 

 

napowrimo 17/30

*the definition and concept of Māyā