day 3, nablopomo WC: 108

you know what i hate more than anything?? coming on my period. the cramps, the fatigue... the simple horror of a week where your body just... FUCKS WITH YOUR MIND... until there's nothing left?

yeah. that's what i started feeling like a coupla hours in. and then i got the notion that washing clothes was THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

seriously. what's wrong with my brain? i definitely need something else. like... i dunno... a fucking hysterectomy. would that be so hard? just get rid of that for me please. i don't need kids anyway. JUST STOP THE PAIN.

poem 8 (sonnet), poetry workshop

a sonnet usually consists of a rhyme scheme, 14 lines with a turn around the end of line 8 and the beginning of line 9.
a curtal sonnet is, mathematically speaking, precisely 3/4 a petrachan sonnet. rhyme scheme: abc abc dbcd b. 10 and a half lines.


Long Distance

I liked you better when I was reading between your unlined
A4 pages and halted wooing on my computer screen…
Meeting you virtually after our summer romance.

I liked you as, textually, your gentleman's armor shined
More clearly than it did when we were nineteen,
Foolishly giving each other a chance.

Enchanting virtuality gave way to the reality of you
Caught in still-framed glances: long and lean…
Your water-reed legs, your arms in open stance—
But changed. Your character formed anew.

Alas! loss unforeseen.

poem 9 (disguised love poetry), poetry workshop

a disguised love poem that doesn't mention love... can talk about anything else... but still means love.

Biblically

I always remember to never mention you
in conversations with friends...
as if the whisper of your name
could conjure your presence,
forcing me to remember how, like Adam
upon meeting Eve, I declared "at last,
bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh."

I try to remember to think of you
only as broken clocks can herald time
as though memories can tell of how--
like the queen of Sheba meeting Solomon--
I sat at your feet, tasting the sweet fruit
Wisdom from the knowledge tree,
enriching myself at your hands.

I can hardly remember a time with you
where someone would turn my head aside
as like to say they're a better choice,
like a king who tries to steal a maiden's hand,
though she loves only her shepherd boy...
I remained constant, like seasons and tides--
forever tied and bound to you.

I never remember to forget you.

poem 10 (wordplay), poetry workshop

"wordplay." it's supposed to be puns, spoonerisms, malapropisms, etc. basically you taking on the english language. i set out to do something completely insane. look up "contronyms" on your google. you'll get a couple of websites about words that have their antonym AS ITSELF. examples include "cleave," which means both to adhere to and to separate from; "left" as in to leave or what remains; "bolt" and "fast" which both have to do with leaving and with standing still. are we clear here? good.  shape based on the word "cleave".  Discursive means to move from topic to topic coherently... or to move from topic to topic randomly. Discursive
( poem under the clickety click )