April: National Poetry Month

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I have participated in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) since 2014. I usually work on drafts of poems during the year and post them during April. This year my poetic rationale has been transformed from that of previous years. For 2019 I plan to try to follow some of the prompts, though perhaps not all. I have a hard time putting poems out there that have not been obsessively worked on, so this year will be a change for me. I prefer structured rhymed verse to free verse, but I am going to attempt some less-structured writing this year. Here is my prefatory April poem from 2017:

 

Name that metaphor (half-assed boating)

Polish the brass on your life preserver

Wring out some meaning for dockside observer:

Moorings are tenuous; life is floating.

 

Repostería con Cumbia: Las Musas

It’s hard to refrain from posting interesting political/cultural material here.
I need to try to stay on the poetry theme, at least minimally.
Music and dance are acceptable digressions,  however.
So . . . I will repost some of my favorite Poetic/Musical things for a while.
Personally, I think some of these posts are my best (apart from original poetry)
but what my seething multitudes of readers esteem as quality blog-posting—
that is a horse of another color.

I hope you like Cumbia as much as I do.
Consider this an Andean interlude with . . . Las MUSAS  (The Muses) !
Could it be that my muses are fallen and carnal—
or are they challenging me to accept their womanly inspiration
with gratitude to God?

Spring Salvo

It’s time to fire up my blog
and add to the poetic smog.
Marching thus, to April’s drum
may cause my muse to pause, mid-strum
and harp on my poetic lack
of will toward permanent attack.
Didactic, though, I strive to be;
And write with pure sincerity.

I’ll do my best to rail, and preach
and by such arts, some poor soul reach
assuring them they are not mad
but yes, the world IS worse than bad.
I’m sorry that I lack the power
to versify upon a flower.
(Leave that for some other, later
blithe pathetic poetaster.)

Where’s my muse?
They must have maced her.

 

Adore bad Haiku?
Check back here during April
and you’ll get your fill

March of the Muses: NaPoWriMo 2018

Ἀπόλλων μουσηγέτης

 

Oh Poets and Muses, hear my prayer.
Let’s mix our metaphors and dare
as fragrant smoke ascends the sky,
offend some readers by and by.

Apollo—grant me rocket fuel
to launch into your stratosphere.
Athena—by your wisdom, rule
and whisper in my waiting ear.

Receive this bright poetic spark
And let the Nine, as one, inspire
transform this puddle, stagnant, dark,
from sludge to pure Promethean fire.

Thou Father of Olympus, bless
our paltry April offering:
a dubious cybernetic mess
composed of poets’ suffering.

I’ll sing of waters fair (and foul),
uncork my potions for your ears
while Dionysus‘ Maenads howl
banishing our noetic fears.

A radiant poetic flush
beams forth from every laureled face.
The springs of Babel: let them gush
and bathe our souls in lyric grace.

A product line in low demand,
the blogosphere: our public forum;
quorum one man short of damned
where verses vie with vague decorum.

Consult your muse—then let it flow;
a rain of primaveral dreams
whose rivulets descend below
and swell the tributary streams;

to flooding verses, transcendental
irrigating, bringing life
(though some are merely excremental;
foaming sewage…  ask my wife).