NAPOWRIMO

DAY 20

TANKA 57577

let's keep on going
just keep driving and driving
to nowhere at all
let's do it we say laughing
and we never ever do






DAY 19

Lying on a bed with fine needles
inserted throughout her body
Feeling like a cactus
Looking up at the embossed
decorated ceiling

Him typing away rustling papers
wearing floral pale blue socks
muttering and fussing about
like the mad professor

She felt very mellow
at home with someone she had
known for so many years
even in her pincushion'd state

Everyone in her tailor made
life now was someone she loved
The welcome mat extending
only to the chosen few

No more air kissing
for this little black duck

DAY 18

Lullaby

Fais Dodo
mon petit chou
Fais Dodo
juste moi et vous
Fais Dodo
je vous adore
Fais Dodo
l'histoire d'amour


DAY 17

An Epistolary Poem

Dear ....

It pains me to inform you
that I find you the most tedious
of my communicants

Your inflammatory uncontrolled
outbursts are upsetting to
the more effete male members
and the complaints from the alpha males
re you firing up the chicks
with your suggestive rhetoric
are too numerous to read

Besides I am being inondated
with requests for your email address
and phone number by the females here
some of whom are preparing for the priesthood

Quite frankly I do not believe it is their intention
to discuss theological matters with you
Your Don Quixote reputation precedes you

So what are you doing tonight?



Day 16

Take hold of my hand
Hold it tight and don't let go
We are flying high

We know what it's like
To double spin over stars
Crash landing ahead


Friday 13th



Tempus Fugit

they thrashed about
in huge waves of intensity
in the turbulent ocean

avid for
sensation and connection
in the race against time

they knew there was
no tomorrow for them


DAY 11



this was our song
we were crazy reckless
we were sailing wild
into nerve tingling thrill
the world exciting and ours

we got married
banal routine was not for us
it was a big mistake
it was our swan song

now you sit fragile
with your millions and big scar
a trail of ex wives
and think of us sometimes
reminiscing about good times

while I sit all these years later
writing poetry about a dream
that has slipped so far away
it is just a dot on the horizon