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Jen's NaPoWriMo Poems (1 Viewer)

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
Thanks everyone! I think that was the high point - things could go downhill from here. :)

Hey, vranger. Keep 'em coming haiku buddy. I'm all over the place, depending on time and inspiration, but I hope to throw in the odd haiku along the way this month.
 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
April 2

GREENS



Mrs Banks had scary eyes
of palest young-celery-green.
More worrying, the cat-like pupils
that opened in a sideways slit.
At five-years-old, EYES fed my dreams
and many waking hours.

Mrs Banks was a dinner lady.
Eat up your greens!” her favourite cry.
Young eyes on my plate,
I ate up my greens
and hoped to deflect the awful glare
of those scary pale green eyes.

I worried a lot that all these greens
might turn my eyes to the same pale green
but the fear of attracting attention was greater
than any mutations that might happen later.

A boy in my class had funny eyes,
one of them blue and the other brown.
But nothing as scary as Mrs Banks
and her peculiar cat-like eyes.
 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
April 3

Choice

A cat is a super observer.
If it moves, then he’s one of the best.
He notices comings and goings,
intruders along with the rest.


But a cat is the ultimate villain,
never grasses, even if pressed.
So, for burglars, intruders and vandals
a camera is probably best.


 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
April 4

Man of Nature

He had a life entwined with nature
in the wilderness or the garden,
all his thoughts were centred on
planting trees and watching birds.
It seems absurd but I can’t help thinking
that in that blinking of an eye
when he was gone
things should have stopped.

Yet trees keep budding
and birds keep nesting
as though he had never been.
 
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jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
April 5



Arthur Eggshell


Arthur Eggshell was despised
because he always criticised.
‘No, that’s not it! Not right at all!’
was what he said to one and all.
He always thought that he was right
and that gave him the appetite
to rant at strangers in the street
and even coppers on the beat.
‘Just get it right! Why can’t you see
that’s not the way – look, just watch me!’
Such was the way he’d remonstrate
and then proceed to demonstrate.
Of course, folks tended to get mad
and all agreed his ways were bad
but nothing anyone could do
would shift old Arthur’s point of view.


Then, one day, Arthur Eggshell died,
went heavenward, there to abide.
But he was barely through the door,
when he was ranting as before,
‘You call this heaven? It’s not right!
Those pearly gates just don’t fit tight.
You’d think Archangels would be able
to live up to the Earthly fable!
But no, this place is quite a mess
and I must say, I’m not impressed.’
‘Well,’ said Saint Peter, ‘if that’s so,
why don’t you try out Down Below?’


So that’s what Arthur Eggshell did,
went off to Hell as he was bid.
When Satan got news of the move
he certainly did not approve.
He said, ‘down here, we have a standard,
despite the holy propaganda.’
He barricaded up the gate
and made the Imp Patrol work late.
Then Arthur turned up at the door,
but no less angry than before.
‘You call these barricades!’ he said,
‘I could do better on my head!’
The Devil’s voice was awful sly,
‘If that’s your choice, well, just stand by.

You’ll find your building blocks right there.’
Then Arthur was flipped in the air.
The Devil grinned, ‘You take your time.
Eternity is your deadline!’
 

Firemajic

Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
Jen, your poem #4... ""Man of Nature"" is so lovely and it reminds me of how I felt when my mother was killed... she always fed the birds and loved to watch them in her flower gardens... after she was gone, I would sit on her front porch swing and watch the birds, busy in her garden and it just blew my mind that they were there, and she was gone... but in all reality, they couldn't have known....
 

Firemajic

Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
Arthur Eggshell, jen, jen, jen!! You are so slick with those rhyming couplets! One of my favorite poetic devices... it perfectly fits this deeelightfully devvvelish poem... I loveIT! You spun a fabulous yarn and this showcased your storytelling skills....
 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
Jen, your poem #4... ""Man of Nature"" is so lovely and it reminds me of how I felt when my mother was killed... she always fed the birds and loved to watch them in her flower gardens... after she was gone, I would sit on her front porch swing and watch the birds, busy in her garden and it just blew my mind that they were there, and she was gone... but in all reality, they couldn't have known....

I'm so glad you 'got' this one, my special friend. My brother was only truly happy when he was in the great outdoors and, as you say, the fact that things go on just the same, without these 'people of nature' being there to witness it, seems somehow wrong. I console myself by knowing that all the trees my brother planted, and the knowledge that he passed on, only continue today because of him. The same for your mother's birds - many of them would never have hatched without her nurturing supply of food.

Glad you enjoyed Arthur Eggshell. ;)
 
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