NaPoWriMo#7

10 April 2010
This post (poem) was delayed as it challenged me, and I struggled with it.
Had I allowed longer, I may perhaps have improved on the rougher changes and passages.
Publishing now helps continue my fight with perfectionism.

shoulds
(so many. too many)
shouldy
(ancient, mouldy)
scouldy
(always your words seem)
scauldy
(and meant to burn?)
cloudy's
(the weight that bears down)
cloud is
(damp, dreary, life giving)
is clout
(when already down on myself)
cut ails
(perseverance whipped)
curtail
(hostility hinders, positivity promotes)
clarity
(sought in deed and in mind)

NaPoWriMo#6

Baby bird, you are
in our hearts. Such a
ratbag, you've wormed your way.
Rule the roost (you think),
Entrance and annoy, but
New family we've gained.


For our little one, who is approaching 2 months of age, and in memory of the tiny sibling who only survived 3 days.
Hand reared after the death of the male around 1 week after hatching.
A real character, who currently has free reign of the house.
(Though a solution needs to be found to the cage he hates)

Birren is a Noongar (local aboriginal) word meaning "small grey bird".

NaPoWriMo#5

I wake in the dark
contained on all sides.
I feel the dampness
and the cold as it surrounds me.
I draw in these sensations
and feel that I have grown
just a little.
As I lay here
I begin to feel warmth.
I crack though my covers
and extend myself
towards the heat
uncurling myself
and always looking for more.
As I lengthen
I weave through the maze
to find light
and my world awakens
only to be rudely
plunged
back to dim grayness
as I am sprayed, soaked.
I am not perturbed
as destiny fills
my being and
I continue to reach out.
I swell from within
seeming to grow taller
as I reach for the brightness
that has returned.
I break from my pod
leaving its skin behind
as I grasp for the sun and the sky.
I don't even notice
the roots forming below
tying me down but
ensuring my chance
at survival.
I blast outwards
with the energy stored
and display
my first set of leaves.
I announce myself
to the world
with all that I know.
I am
dicotyledon.

NaPoWriMo#4

The gum is drying,
leaves turning
to pale brown,
thinning
from the tree
to the ground.

The bark
lifts
from the trunk,
separated by
the loss
of moisture,
eye-catching,
but not in a
deliberate way,
like a push-up bra.

The mites have
terminated
the stately eucalypt.
What will they choose
to feast on
next?

I feel a
quiet
terror.

NaPoWriMo#3

On the whole, I haven't written any poetry for yeeeaaaars.
This is thus my apology to anyone underwhelmed by anything they read on my blog.

I am going to write a poem everyday for NaPoWriMo, although I may not post each day, as some may require more editing and thought (I know, who'd have thought it, considering the poor quality of what HAS been posted?).

Anyway, back to it.

NaPoWriMo#3

Planting seeds
hoping
they grow
I guess a
little effort
is required on
my behalf
nurture
not quite but
tend
believe in the
power
of quantity
and the wild
celebrate
the small success

NaPoWriMo#2

Caged. Yet
the door is
closed,
not locked.
Is it strength
planning,
perhaps compromise;
need to
find
joined freedom.

NaPoWriMo#1

So tired

weary

washed out

spaced out

drawn in

clenched

trapped

no light

blindfold

hiding hope

blocking strength

despair

not complete.