Tagu-taguanmaliwanag ang buwan Giggles, titters, and silly laughs
Wala sa likod, wala sa harap Little kids restless and eager to play
‘Pag ka bilang kong tatlo nakatago na kayo,
Run swiftly as the wind; find a place to hide 1… Climb the mango tree 2… Crawl behind the shrubs 3! Hearts beat faster
Breaths held like forever
Close your eyes
And wish the seeker won’t find
Day 18: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates “the sound of home.” Think back to your childhood, and the figures of speech and particular ways of talking that the people around you used, and which you may not hear anymore. Coax your ear and your voice backwards, and write a poem that speaks the language of home, and not the language of adulthood, office, or work. Happy writing!
Taguan is the Filipino version of the game, Hide-and-Seek. One player is randomly chosen as the it while the other players then hide. The it goes to search for them. The game ends when all of the players are found. The player who is first found will be the new it (the searcher) in the next round.
The night is dark and full of terrors
In High Valyrian, it is ‘Bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys’ Dark—for when you’re clouded with hatred and rage,
The shimmering stars start to fade
Full of terrors—for when you play this game of life,
You either succeed or fail Daoruni gīmī—ērinis iā morghūlis (You know nothing— you win or you die)
But what do we say to death? Not today
What do we say to doubt? Not today
What do we say to hate? Not today
Day 17:Today, I challenge you to find, either on your shelves or online, a specialized dictionary. This could be, for example, a dictionary of nautical terms, or woodworking terms, or geology terms. Anything, really, so long as it’s not a standard dictionary! Now write a poem that incorporates at least ten words from your specialized source. Happy writing!
Still working on my day 17 on NaPoWriMo’s day 20. >_<
Arghh! Busy days!! Writer’s block and procrastination aren’t helping either. *TEARS*
So here’s a little something inspired by GoT’s High Valyrian language and a suicide I’ve read in the paper this morning.
I yearn for you like the irises yearn for summer heat and warmth. I want to kiss your hands and hold them as we climb atop the Pyramids of Giza or sit beneath the mango tree watching kites fly in the deep blue skies. D, I am like a beggar waiting in an alley with an empty can, pleading for your love. Every memory of you haunts me like a ghost. Like how the world stopped as you walked the hallway in little black dress—and how I wished to be the silk that night. How your sweet giggles played a melody to my ears as you watched the comical clown on the street. How the light in your eyes shined brightly as you talked about Louvre and travelling back in time, of Area 51 and aliens, of John Keats and Little Red Riding Hood.
God, how I wished for those moments to be frozen in time.
I would brave the earthquakes and fight the wolves just to see you walk the aisle of Basilica Minore del Santo Nino with me— hand in hand.I want a brighter word than bright and a fairer word than fair that would suffice to describe how I see you in my eyes. And if one day you are drowning in doubt, bear in mind that my love for you is like a phoenix. My love for you is eternal; my love for you never dies.
Day 16:Today, I challenge you to fill out, in no more than five minutes, the following “Almanac Questionnaire,” which solicits concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of your answers. Happy writing!
I enjoyed this prompt so much that I ended up using all my answers in the poem. ❤
Weather: Summer heat
Customs: Kiss in the hand
Childhood dream: To climb atop the Pyramids of Giza
Found on the Street: beggar
Conspiracy: aliens in Area 51
Dress: Little black
Hometown memory: flying kites
Notable person: John Keats
Outside your window, you find: Mango tree
Today’s news headline: Earthquake
Scrap from a letter: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair.
Animal from a myth: Phoenix
Story read to children at night: Little Red Riding Hood
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: Empty can
You walk to the border and hear: Giggles
What you fear: Ghost
Picture on your city’s postcard: Basilica Minore del Santo Nino
Dripping sweats, muscle strains, and beating hearts The world stops for this game of dominance Slam dunks, alley-oops, and fadeaways Fluctuating figures on game charts Hearts thumping; an otherworldly performance Spinning world carved with names and legends History forged in a hundred plays Hearts and games; dribbling world never ends.
Day 14:Today’s prompt comes to us from TJ Kearney, who invites us to try a seven-line poem called a san san, which means “three three” in Chinese (It’s also a term of art in the game Go). The san san has some things in common with the tritina, including repetition and rhyme. In particular, the san san repeats, three times, each of three terms or images. The seven lines rhyme in the pattern a-b-c-a-b-d-c-d.
Inspired by two major events on NBA history:
1) Steph Curry along with the Golden State Warriors, broke the all-time NBA record by winning their 73rd victory of the season, eclipsing the previous win record of 72 games held by the 1995-96 Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls.
2) Kobe Bryant finishes his farewell game with a grandeur, scoring 60 points on 50 shots, in a win over Utah Jazz.
Fortune favors the brave Stop wishing; start doing Do not fear what you do not know Unleash your life force Let your fantasies unwind Good things take time The best is yet to come Become who you are Pick a path with heart— Never quit; See the light at the end of the tunnel Affirm it, visualize it, believe it, and it will actualize itself.
You left me a crime scene Down in the basements, dark, Etching ground, bloodlike, Severed arm, severed leg, Blood; instant death.
They call it paranoia— delusional thinking When I saw men as mere murderers Bloodhounds, arsonists, actors Disguised in painted letters and poetry Secret rooms and music halls.
Look into the eyes of dead people Trace the fingerprints Smell the nauseating blood Tell me, are these mistakes made by A mere impotent fury?
Day 12: Today, I challenge you to write your own index poem. You could start with found language from an actual index, or you could invent an index, somewhat in the style of this poem by Thomas Brendler. Happy writing!
P.S. I took the highlighted words from the index of Patricia Cornwell’s Jack the Ripper book. I’ve had this book since March 2016 but I haven’t got the chance to read it yet (Arghh! Work.). Did this poem make enough sense? Ha! It sounds sinister to me. 😀
Long winding road awaits an uphill stride Patch of clouds over cerulean skies Sunrays piercing through the haze Nature’s raw beauty wrapped in silence With nothing but birds singing of mirth The gentle rush of trees to the wind’s caress Climb the jagged, rocky mountains petrified in gray It’s the south’s Middle Earth, so they say Eyes squinting to the beauty beforehand O-Peak boasts such scenic mountain range Two eager feet race to reach the summit I receive more than what I seek
Day 11:Today, I challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details. Happy writing!
P.S. This poem is inspired by my weekend getaway with friends. The photo above was just the beginning of our long-winding journey to the Queen City of the South’s pride, Osmeña Peak. YAY! *flags up*
I just got back from an awesome out-of-town weekend with friends. YAY! So for the late submission, here’s a little something for Days 9 & 10 of NaPoWriMo. Good morning! 🙂
Day 9:Today, I challenge you to write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very personal that makes you uncomfortable; something that you’re genuinely a little scared to say.