rEvolve

i should have tasted

my menstruel bloods ( meno~paused )

t’was mine sacred rite

.

haiku

coming in

i become my own

poem . scrawled in blood – braille spiral .

i feel my trail

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haiku

rEVOLtion

i should have tasted

my menstrual blood. too late now.

was my scared rite

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haiku

defiant chill in the air

.

summer’s here, not gone, you insist

it’s beauty emptying and fermenting

tempting trees to bare their teeth and throw down arms

though barely September, winds whinge and whine

querulous as a passels of squirrels rustling and thieving stashes of nuts

but autumn comes in hobbling like two old biddies in dirtied petticoats —mouths

prattling, puckered as a skinny cow’s arse and just as fetidly malted

shocking as the hot stench of wolves on the cooled nostrils on a fist of horses

shivering, prickling as a torment of digits in agony on the return of blood as tips thaw out

summer’s not gone… you insist, hunkered into your nest of jewels and tattered letters —

like a tiny brown shrew nibbling whortleberries that stain like gossiped loot —

the colours, taste and scent that lasts well past memory, dribbled and inked in wines

behind preserving glasses- solitarily grasping at remnants of loves and leaves almost gone

to seeds, pulling heads in for a duration you shall not mention or admit —

except in the writing of this

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not a haiku

.

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p.s A whortleberry is a forest-foraged berry, also known as a bilberry or huckleberry. Traditionally, after a harvest of them was sent to the kitchens of London and other important towns, ( from Porlock and its environs ) remnants were sent to be used in the dying of airmen’s uniforms. (So i’m informed)

https://www.napowrimo.net

Napowrimo day 26.-

A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.

we’re both slaughtered

.

breath in my throat

catching like vomit

run rabbit run

separated from the pack

spindle-legged antelope weak

thought of escape

run rabbit run

can it can it can it

make it make it make it

weeping screaming imagining

sweat hot sweat hot breath hot swear hot

on my tail

nailed snapping crapping sobbing

stopping

catching breath

stopping

caught cobble-hobbled wolf-whistled

run rabbit run

down

noooooooo

throat cut my blood

pulsed howl watch detached

legs splayed face bodypressed to the carpet

helpless now

breath in my throat

catching like vomit

.

not a haiku

.

https://www.napowrimo.net/

NaPoWriMo day 22:-

In honor of today’s being the 22^nd day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.

Loba

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she moonlight-calls her to me and me to her

her fingers of soft-rough fur, here is utter dark

brings something of a growl ( not a purr ), ignites the spark

in a flash of lightning , a white thing, the shape of air

unutterable darkness shields a priestess

sexy as a mystery, saturates the senses

.

do you hate me for the wildness

of my perfect pelt, the language of my brazen throat

you cannot understand, you cannot capture, don’t fret, don’t rest

the stricken faces of the night felt, the quickening of my breast

.

do you prefer me as a acquiescent sheep

do you curse this form that disturbs your sleep

does the lightness of my lope, the meatiness of my breath

cause the whispers of the hair rise from your neck

.

i check the mirror, front and back

lick the maws of my primal authentic voice

that calls my majestic spirit to rejoice

for i am rank-stink-inked

kicked alive again to bless

awaken this mess of flesh

i am bone and fang

i am woman and pack

i am wolf i am wolf i am wolf-woman-whispers

i am the madonna, the giver of moonlit rivers

i am grit- dirt-bearer of younger gifts

blood-howl of shape-changer, the angel-author

of older myths than now exist

do you know me now

do you fear my howl

for i am love , raw, pure, love

slipped from darkness’ glove

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not a haiku

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https://www.napowrimo.net

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NaPoWriMo day 8:-Today’s prompt comes to us from this list of “all-time favourite writing prompts.” It asks you to name your alter-ego, and then describe him/her in detail. Then write in your alter-ego’s voice. Maybe your alter-ego is a streetwise detective, or a superhero, or a very small goldfinch.

bedding in

on my knees digging

shallow holes for tiny seeds

fingers bleed worms feast

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haiku

scents

do you h’ear what i

seed do you

tongue what i

feel furry under

blood

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haiku

presque imperceptible

thin wrist shallow vein

turquoise & white noise exposed

like bare-breasted dove

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haiku

earthly

blood is the slick that

unites us thumps through our hours

minutes excites us

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haiku