“Now The Flies” Day 23: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo14

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Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was take a poem for a different language and by just looking at the poem, rewrite the poem solely based off of words that may make different sounds. While Pablo Neruda is clearly one of my favorite poets of all time, I came across a poem by the Dutch poet, Erik Spinoy. His poem entitled, “Take This Flesh” is below in Dutch:

 

Neem dit vlees

en drijf het
naar waar het ophoudt vlees te zijn.

Soms doet zich na het schelle projecteren
een heftige remanentie voor

soms is er op het oog haast niets te zien

soms ook schiet alles in een kramp

de onverklaarbare kramp van het
Martin MAC2000 Performance
apparaat

en van het frunniken daaraan.

Neem dit vlees

en jaag het op
totdat het buiten zich raakt

tot het vleesloos als een vuurwerk openbarst

en vleesloos weer verschiet.

 

Here is my Homophonic Translation:

Now that flies

are drifting here
near where afloat flies may sing.

Some do sit in the shell’s protection
even hearing romantic snores.

Some miserable hasty nats may zing.

Some take cornet wails in even damps.

An overture – damps by the
Martin MAC20oo Performance
apparatus.

Are you the fallen drunkard?

Now the flies

are joined here – up -
today here bugs sit rich

for here – fearless – all even sit and work openly

“Where The Trolls Do Live” – Day 22: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo14

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The trolls I know do argue a lot
live on Twitter, they’re not bots.
These trolls spews facts, they do not know
all the while, their blockers grow.
But if you cross, these dirty trolls paths
count one, then two, then three, let them pass.

Trolls beat dead horses, no healthy debates
the trolls I know, love to hate.
Stirring the pot, venom they’re flowing
acting like children, tantrums they’re throwing.
I ask, “Are you delirious?”
They’re hiding, so mysterious.

I first found it neat, when I was sent twenty tweets
they are deranged, their handles they have changed.
Count one, then two, then three and logout, from Twitter
the place where the trolls do live.

Photo source

Day 22: NaPoWriMo Prompt: A Nursery Rhyme

Happy Earth Day

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Before there was coal.
Fire was our desire.
Protect Mother Earth.

An Ode to @RobertDowneyJr: Day 21 – National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo14

ironman01
We first met April 28th in oh-eight
I arrived at the Tribeca Grand Hotel
in a NYC taxicab, I was late.

I tipped Ahmed and stepped onto the hard bricks
two small Klieg lights lit up the Grand’s facade.
I was ushered inside to the sounds of click-click.

While warmly being greeted I thought that’s odd.
I’m just a banker but all eyes were on me.
In the lobby bar, I heard a toast and clink

I muttered, “Fuck, I’m tired, I need a drink.”
But my throat stayed dry, I soon went to the gym.
Crashing all around me and then I heard him.

Robert Downey Jr. ~ “I Am Iron Man.”
Patrons clapping, but I was gasping for air.
Opening the door, dropping sweat from my hair.

Standing near me, in a striped shirt and dark tie
Iron Man himself as he breezed right on by.
Not knowing this night held a private screening

through the front door on my knees I was leaning.
Bright lights, big city, paparazzi shutters.
Then I heard one stutter: “He’s a nobody.”

How prophetic
As many years later
I Am The Product Poet.
“I Am Nobody”

Photo source

Day 21: NaPoWriMo Prompt: A New York Poem

Can you #haiku? Coming soon – a poetry contest from @GoDaddy and @ProductPoet.

To celebrate National Poetry Writing Month, as well as Take A Chance Day, I am teaming up with GoDaddy on a poetry contest. Details are forthcoming, but here is a little hint.

 

 

A Fatherless Figure: Day 20 – National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo14

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“I’m Sorry that I wasn’t a good Dad.”
My father ~ one I hardly did know.
“I’m Sorry that I made your Mom mad.”
Faded Polaroids ~ a handsome beau.

“I’m Sorry my checkered life was plaid.”
A life filled with extreme highs and lows.
“I’m Sorry my namesake makes you sad.”
Your face I never saw it aglow.

“I’m Sorry nightmares of me you’ve had.”
The day you died no tears did flow.
“I’m Sorry I wasn’t a good Dad.”
The father I have, his genes I sow.

A fatherless figure, I’m glad I didn’t need.
The father I have, is Rich with love indeed.

Day 20: NaPoWriMo Prompt: A Poem In A Family Member’s Voice

Striped Engina’s Angina: Day 19- National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo14

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I’m black and yellow or sometimes white
I move real slow, through crevices tight.
Though I’m peaceful, I’m a carnivore
But when I’m hungry, on snails I bite.

I don’t speak much, I can be a bore
Sand and rock, make up my Ocean’s floor.
At night my angina, is the worst
When I’ll die, I’ll end up on your shore.

You’ll pick me up, my shell is your first
A great life I lived, but now I’m cursed.
In your pocket, I rest with wet sand
Funny your pocket, is now my hearse.

But when we get home, I’m in your hand
My shell now cleaned, no longer I’m damned.
My life as a shell, it will be grand
Better than being, a snail that’s canned.

Photo source

Day 19: NaPoWriMo Prompt – Sea Shell Silly Sonnets

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