meet me at the beach

tiptoed through the corridor
connecting our two worlds
for some sex in the shade
tomorrow back to reality
stars close their eyes
like sleeping innocents

No foreign words here. ha! NaPoWriMo, you can’t control me with your silly tricks!


What was left unsaid

words unwanted left my lips
and shimmered dimly far
a feather floating caught a whisper

uncertain angels hovering high
above the muttering mouths
took flight of fancy into fire

to craft a temple in the sand
afloat upon the salt
where wind would shift its subtle sound

an intricate design inlaid
with the blueness of truth
but still I was afraid to say


This is an almost-ballad, a structure I specifically invented for the occasion…
I have all but given up on the prompts, but I did drop a colour into the second to last line just for the sake of it.

Google Poem

I queried google (higher wisdom seeking)
expecting deep insight and pretty prose
to appear and start my mind’s fancy a-leaking
but all I got were songs and videos

The lyrics from the same tune times a thousand
a movie and its actors’ petty scandals
all this rubbish at a simple click of mouse and
an ad promoting gowns and sparkly sandals

Maybe others had more luck, but somehow when one’s
disappointed by repeated failed attacks
battling with hills of data from search engines
it’s better to spew rage, and then relax


I think the above rant speaks for itself. I love iambic pentameter by the way, it automatically makes a poem look good.

(drinking) Song

Oh Wine,

pleasing witchery, priz’d disease
that in tyranny can bestow passion

we wake sluggish and he kindles
a bold appetite for new Spirits

in the gross sense, it aids Nature
and makes roving Desire

Youth’s Heaven !  


See below for the original, with its modifications. I cheated a little when I erased part of an ‘n’ to make an ‘r’ to make ‘for’ for my line 4 (tricky huh?)

Oh love! that stronger art than Wine,
Pleasing Delusion, Witchery divine,
Wont to be priz’d above all Wealth,
Disease that has more Joys than Health;
Though we blaspheme thee in our Pain,
And of Tyranny complain,
We are all better’d by thy Reign.
What Reason never
can bestow,
We to this useful Passion owe:
Love wake s the dull from sluggish ease,
And learns a Clown t he Art to please:
Humbles the Vain, kindles the Cold,
Makes Misers free, and Cowards bold;
And teaches airy Fops to think.  
When full brute Appetite is fed,
And choakd the Glutton lies and dead;
Thou new Spirits dost dispense,
And f ine’st the gross Delights of Sense.  
Virtue’s unconquerable Aid
That against Nature can persuade;
And makes a roving Mind retire
Within the Bounds of just Desire.
Chearer of Age, Youth’s kind Unrest,
And half the Heaven of the blest!
    Aphra Behn

Day 24 again

A literate laureate of the atelier,
Eureka! An altar of airtime tear
A camel or puma and actuarial tike
Paramecia retiled in ritual like
Take aim and pee at karate cat tail
Taupe elite stand on a tatami eel
An irate Maria with acute racial aura
They say I like rape, now where’s my tiara?

Since the anagram server finally had enough bandwidth available for me to do my whole name, I thought I’d do me at last. Finally I recognise myself in some of these descriptions, damn my two middle names are important after all!

Moon flower

I plucked three blossoms from a tree
One whole, one broken, one bud unbloomed
The moon’s round eye looked down on me
Alone I walked though music boomed
Thick, milky sap bled on my hand
Fingers sticky, purpose unsure
The ones I love don’t understand
This scent of frangipani pure


Very handy, the poem I wrote before looking at the prompt is more or less a ballad. The rhyme scheme is right, and the 4 line verse structure, though I have 8 syllables in every line, and not 8-6-8-6 as suggested. Once again, I am a Napowrimo prophet.

Wedding vow

Radio Man, I’m livid for thee
A mini lord diva who likes cake for tea
Your mind is your lair, but valor your din
I moan for you, roam for you, hold your void in
A dramatic admiral avoiding the day
We create an aria, violins play 


The prompt was to write a poem based on the anagrams of your name. Since my name kinda sucked, I did my husband’s. His were hilariously accurate, and it could have gone on and on.