Backward Sky

morale dribbles a  toothache
into faithless wood, a counselor at restraint
caroling with a harangue, distraught and light.
before-
she sleeps with  the contraption of her brew.

upon her silvery aviary of down,
dying, she bribes a long and syllabifying significance;
and waterproofs wholesale vitamins,
which rivet like blubber to the backward  sky.

and when, at times, wrenched  in her larceny,
she lets a future telegram  flunk,
some placid poise, some engine of sleep,

tame his homeless hardware. The technology
of soap glistens of irradiation
and of operations- he  hijacks
it from the superlative
tucking it deep in his helium.

***
I know it's a little late, but I will write another later today. It is like my day vanished before my eyes. I spent a good portion of the day working on my Shakespeare paper. Once that was written, I had to write my marketing paper. Then I tried to do a black out poem using a newspaper and it looked like shit, and I know scanning would be atrocious. I don't how other poets make their poems look cool. I guess I am going to have to use magazines. I just can't draw in books, it is a weird affliction I suffer from. Anyway find more awesome poets at NaPoWriMo.

Right Now

I Should Be
writing poems
and not making
pasta. I Should Be
telling you how the wind
sounds right at this minute
it’s all been done before
the wind seeps
through adjectives.

Right about now, I Should Be
somewhere else,  tomorrow
or yesterday making academics
faint with my genius

the furnace kicks on
just as the coffee pot
spews it’s last drip
and I find myself
living too many lives at once
the blurry transcendence
of chaos

***
And here is poem 6. Poetry writing has been difficult these last few days. I don't know if I am putting too much pressure on myself or my brain is somewhere else. Or who the hell knows. Today's poem is a free verse and stream of conscious poem about how I can't write a poem. Which is a bit ironic since I wrote a poem. Sometimes, when I want to write a poem and I have nothing inspiring, I work on a found poem. But sometimes there are too many source texts. Anyway, show some love to other poets this month and find them at NaPoWriMo

Sweet Infringence

slowly over a cup of gold
from the black rose lake
steel glass thorns
 into shadow worlds
for pure love of the waiting

waiting for rapture
to coincide with wild flowers
and I bleed wild flowers
through the garbage
and intertwine in lava

lava erupts from melodious
serenity, come encase
my heart mind and burn forth
with sweet infringence.

infringent roots grow deep
in the ancient world.
The roots grow deep.

deep, pure sounds murmur
to my noisy mind and burn.

burn gold.

***
And here is poem number five. Today, I took an ancient poem (one from the 90's) and used this tool http://www.lazaruscorporation.co.uk/cutup/text-mixing-desk to remix the poem to form a new poem. I like some repition, which is a poem thing (so there is a fancy, literary word but my brain is kind of mushy right now. I have no idea what it is at the time) I haven't used a lot of. Oh yeah, I made up the word "infringence"  because I like the way it sounds. I have no idea what it means, what do you think it means? Find more poets at NaPoWrimo

Night Whims

Water buffalo
Hunt from Orion’s white belt-
I need their life myth
Medicine trapped in star glass
Skeins of mozzarella drip.

***
Here is poem number four. So today I did an acrostic and a tanka.  The acrostic is made with the word "whims". Find more poet at Napowrimo

Shrinking Outlooks

I don’t buy protests
but distracted deadbeats
thrusting  novel medicines
into insomniacs.

My well-informed tonic
is restrained in England
we combine our modesty
finding spare rubbish

The pelican doses your stuff
I am alive and inquire an opinion
on shrinking outlooks.

Source: Wodehouse, P.G. A Wodehouse Miscellany.  Gutenberg.org  http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/8190/pg8190-images.html

***
Day three, so far so good. But then again, it's only day three.  Eventhough, this is a found poem, I am surprised on the final product. There seems to be a hint of politics, what do you think? Find more poets at NaPoWrimo

Crystal Cane

diamond crack
and caramel
on the mouth
of a cool oven

saffron mingles
with raspberry
fillets, ginger
coughs fancy
papers on boiled
acid drops

clarified in-
nocence fringed
at the edges
of small bands
of gold, boxes
of glass divided
into fulm-
inating powder

acidulated mirth
rubs to sugar
fire twists
sugar into
demulcent
mold baskets

effervescence will flow over




Source:
How to Make Candy. Gutenberg.org http://www.gutenberg.org/files/54173/54173-h/54173-h.htm

***
Today, I grabbed words from an old candy cook book (1891 I think) from Gutenberg.org. These words came from the section "Crack and Caramel." I found the section heading humorous. Anyway like other poems I write, I write down a bunch of words and phrases I like and make a poem from them. Find more poets at Napowrimo

Hypnogogia

The menagerie of lilies-of-the-valley and cotton candy flowers flourish in seawater. A somnambulant  sephora reflects international sunsets as tides of breaking music and the impulse of the aurora aggregate broom flow from coyote cloud stones. In the cave-story pulsar, my iris arrests pictures, a haunting sensation settles in the shadeling grove, and the evocation of the hidden book splashes colors on the wind.

Magic curtails the 

living, gods come out to play

I close the shutters.

***

Yeah, it is National Poetry Month! This is the first poem:  a haibun,  a mixture of prose poetry and  haiku. If you want to read other participants' poems in National Poetry Writing Month or if you need more prompts to get you started, check out NaPoWriMo