Poems 11-17 for NaPoWriMo

We're a little over halfway through National Poetry Writing Month! This is my third batch of poems, from Sunday the 11th to Saturday the 17th.

April 11th:

another day where I slog through my writing:

I am running a marathon in the sand -

my feet sinking with every step.

I am battling an ever increasing amount of dirty dishes -

dirty cups and plates piling up around me.

I don’t feel like I can make it -

miles and dishes appear as soon as I complete one.

I have no desire to make it -

I will stay in this desert, starving and dehydrated,

let the dishes crumble around me, burying me alive.

no way out

I'm in the last weeks of my semester and I am drowning in essays and projects, and don't always have motivation to write poetry.

April 12th:

lungs tight,

shallow breath,

shaky hands,

numb fingers,

watery eyes,

stressed

stressed

stressed

I need to scream

April 13th:

We Are Not Alone in the Universe!

Early this morning,

scientists received a transmission

from a faraway space.

It seems to be a response

to our Golden Record,

which was sent into space

with the Voyager.

The transmission recently received contained

a 23 minute recording

of what sounding like a spoken language -

according to a linguist from NASA,

and 17 minutes of mechanical noises

that many are theorizing may have come from

a spaceship or a musical performance.

This transmission parallels our Golden Record,

which contained greetings in 55 languages,

a variety of sounds from nature,

and a selection of music from around the world.

How wonderful that our

hopeful message

to the universe,

has been answered?

The prompt for this poem was to write a news article you'd like to see tomorrow.

April 14th:

“someone who lived by a beech tree”

one of my ancestors lived near a beech tree.

a tree that grows slowly, but produces lots of shade -

did my ancestor enjoy warm summer picnics under the tree?

bright green leaves that turn golden in the autumn -

did my ancestor play in the fallen crunching leaves?

the bark is smooth and gray -

did my ancestor carve their name into their tree trunk?

one of my ancestors lived near a beech tree

that was so significant that all their descendants carry it on in their name

The prompt for this poem was to take inspiration from the meaning of your name. My last name means "someone who lived by a beech tree" according to ancestry.com.

April 15th:

a tropical oasis

with rocky bluffs

and hanging vines;

vivid violets and

bright orchids bloom;

fresh tangerines and

bittersweet oranges hang in trees

surrounding a shallow wading pool;

seaglass and ocean seaweed

rest on the shore;

the ocean slumbers

in the morning fog,

lapping gently at the sand;

in the distant and faraway blue

a sailing ship follows

a windy sea breeze

I took my inspiration for this poem from a bunch of paint chips I have lying around. There are 15 paint names in this poem.

April 16th:

under red and white mushrooms

sit a pair of mice grooms

who can’t wait to share a room,

through life they will zoom

until they meet their doom

and share a tomb.

but for now they are heading

to their wedding

where they will share a blessing

their future holds sledding,

dreading, treading, bedding,

but they will never be forgetting

the setting of their wedding.

The prompt for this poem was to use skeltonic verse, a form of poems with short rhyming lines.

April 17th:

the people who love us

are moons in our lives -

they push and pull us to our best,

like the push and pull of the tide

that leaves behind little shells;

they share their light

when it is dark;

their love is always there.

and even when they aren’t here

because of mistakes, change, or death,

they still leave a lingering presence

of love in our lives

The prompt for this poem was to take inspiration from the moon.