NaPM April 19 2016

[milo]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month. 


Topic 19: Plato wrote in Phaedo that Socrates whiled away his jail time turning some of Aesop's fables "which he knew" into verses. Most poets through the ages have tried their hands at a fable or 2 and who are we - better than most poets? - better than Socrates??  Write a poem/fable, a poem inspired by a fable or a versification of a fable.

Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

[just mercedes]

The Wawalag Sisters



Two sisters
returning home for
a bunya nut ceremony
stopped to rest by a waterhole.

There a baby was born,
and the smell of blood woke
the python who lived at the bottom,
whose totem place this was.

He rose up and flooded the plain
so the sisters waited out the flood
on a rise. But the snake reared up
and swallowed sisters, baby, camp and fire.

He swam back to the bottom
but the fire still burned inside him.
In pain, he fled, making a trail
that filled with water and became a river.

The snake spewed his stomach empty
and when the flood waters dried up
the sisters and their baby set out again
for their homeland.









http://austhrutime.com/wawalag_sisters.htm

[Keith]

The lonely Lion

Each morning Milumba, a proud and angry lion would walk from his cave,
climb high to his rock and roar so loud all the other animals would
run and hide, they never spoke to the Lion and always stayed out of his way.
This made Milumba even more angry because he had no friends
and no one to talk to.

One morning he arrive back at his cave to find Hushka,
a brave and clever little mouse, foraging for food by its entrance.
The Lion roared so loud that the mouse ran into the cave
and was cornered. "I'm going to keep you here
so you can be my friend" snarled the lion. But Hushka being brave
said "no your not, I have a family to feed and I must leave, however
I will promise to help you" and he told the Lion of his plan.

The next morning Hushka returned with his family just before the Lion left his cave,
they all took up a different position on the lions walk to his rock and waited for the lion.
All the other animal were shouting, telling them to get off the trail but they had made a promise.
As Milumba passed by, the first mouse shouted "good morning milumba what a lovley day it is"
and to everyone's surprise the lion said good morning back, and carried on his way,
this happened all along the trail and was seen by many other animals.
On reaching his rock Milumba found Hushka waiting,
the little mouse climbed high on top of the Lions head
and said "now friend show me what you've got"
Milumba roared so loud every animal in the kingdom
turned and saw the mouse on top of the Lions head.
The mice did this for a full week and slowly other animals
began to say good morning and Milumba
would always say good morning back.

Hushka visited the lion who was very happy because he had many new freinds.
The Lion was thankful and asked the Mouse how he had made it happen,
he wanted to know what had made the other animal change.
The mouse shuck his head, "I did nothing"he said,
"the other animals didnt change, you did"
The Lion smiled and nodded his head.

[Tiger the Lion]

Bugs
 
A quick wit was my cousin Bugs
but never really left his mind,
while me as slow as summer slugs
would rise with robins just to find
a shell to cower from the thugs—
the pigs—they’re everywhere it seems,
one couched in straw, and yet another
swiftly raising wooden beams
before their wise and older brother
mixes mortar, bakes bricks, and schemes
to soon blow off the snorts and shrugs
and finally sleep as sound as Bugs.

[Todd]

Summer and Winter
 
 
In the days when all creatures still spoke,
when the sun was a bright yellow ball,
and its beams bounced across the meadow
in little spotlights, the grasshopper would play
his fiddle and music would shake
the black-eyed Susans till they danced
under lazy clouds, and the grasshopper
would feel his heart lift like the parasols
of a dandelion clock in the ever summer.
 
Now the ants marched in their gray march,
a never ending line carrying food
across the meadow. They had little use
for music, and even less
for those who played it. The older
ants found that the young would sometimes
stop to listen and fall from the cadence
of steps that had worn this trail
smooth through generations.
 
One day an ant left the line
and said to the grasshopper,
 
“Green will give way to brown and brown
will give way to white, and then what shall you eat?”
 
“Life is more than eating,” said the grasshopper, 
 “more than a line to walk day after day.
If you never live for summer,
who cares if you live at all?”

[LunaDeLore]

Todd,

Good work. Loved the imagery, really. When reading I even saw the spotlights flashing across the meadow.

Luna

[Todd]

Thank you, Luna

[Keith]

Great work Todd, captivating

[Todd]

Thanks Keith

[bedeep]

This is pretty rough but it's probably all I can do today. It's from a family story, and the moral is yours to draw. I think there may be several in there.

Annie Bell

Here is what happened to Annie Bell.
Was it good or bad? The tale does not tell,
but this is what happened to Annie Bell.

Just a young girl, she was put on a horse,
and given a sack of grain to carry
to the mill to be ground for flour.

It was after the war and the world was still torn
and many were weary and many were crazed
and the roads were not safe for highborn or low.

Still, grain must be ground, flour must be had,
and everyone living must do their part
so off she went on the horse with the grain.

They also gave her a gun to take,
and they loaded the gun with just one bullet.
The roads were not safe for man or child

and they told her exactly what she must do
if a man came upon her the while she rode
to the mill with the grain to grind.

She came home safe with the grain ground to flour,
the bullet still chambered, the gun unfired.
She grew fine and strong, but she never did marry.

Here is what happened to Annie Bell.
Was it good or bad? The tale does not tell,
but this is what happened to Annie Bell.

[Tracy Mitchell]

Some Fable

Her fuckin’ so-called boyfriend dealt meth
from their basement apartment.
His name wasn’t even on the lease.

She was there when the cops crashed,
grabbed her kids, said
she’s not fit.  

That was a year ago.
Now Donni does classes.

[milo]

There once was a fox being chased
by a pack of hounds and men on horses.
But being much craftier than hounds 
Or men or horses he funnelled them
through thickets of thorns and burrs
that would catch in the coats of the hounds
and on the calves of the horses
and he traipsed them through thick runnels
of muck that matted the fur of the hounds
and splattered the faces and beards of the men.
Just past midday, he came to a meadow
with a great gnarled oak and a small grey wren
perched there and throatily singing
the most beautiful melody.  Enchanted
the fox paused to listen. As the wren 
was reaching her crescendo, the hounds
broke the treeline and the wren flew
off as the hounds surrounded the fox
and drove him into the ground
with a cacophony of barking.

[billy]

an ass in a lion's skin

An ass wore a lion's skin;
feeling predatory he trotted off
through the forest frightening
all the foolish animals happened upon.
Eventually he met a wily fox
He tried; doing his lion impression,
which he felt was awesomely scary.
It didn't work; the fox merely laughed.
"didn't i put terror in you?"
asked the concealed donkey.
the fox replied with his best foxy grin
"I might possibly have been frightened,
if I had not heard your bray."

Clothes may disguise a fool, but his words will give him away

[LunaDeLore]

Squirrel and the feeder
 
 
There was a squirrel
Most different than the rest
His tail was a stub
That didn’t flutter like the best
 
He made his journey
Through the branches swift
Never caring if the wind took a shift
 
One afternoon in the middle of June
The squirrel robbed a bird feeder;
Ate ‘til he couldn’t carry a tune
 
But before he took his last bite
Satan’s wind blew the feeder out of sight
And the squirrel most different than the rest
Fell to his untimely death

[Achebe]

Maya

Nârada, divine sage,asked Krishna: what is Maya?
Krishna didn't reply. Days passed, and Narada forgot
his question, but also forgot
that Krishna never forgets
so when the blue god asked for his company
on a long and boring walk through the desert, Narada acquiesced.

The sun was low in the sky when Krishna said 'Narada, there's a village
due east. I am thirsty. Get me water.'
So Narada went and while the sun was still low
found a village, a house with a big wooden door
and knocked on it. It was opened
by a beautiful girl, from Kullu or Gandhar,
or Konkan or Kashmir,
and Narada fell in love. 
He didn't know how the day passed, or when it ended
or when the new lunar month began, or months became years and their love
marriage, and a family. Twelve years passed, Narada inheriting
the house, lands, cattle, and income from everywhere growing
until the flood
came and carried away his house, lands and cattle,
all but the child on his shoulders
and wife on his arm, until the tide rising
each minute washed even them away,
and once again the sun
was low in the sky and Narada was on the bank
of a dried river, hearing a soft voice ask
'You went to fetch a pitcher of water, what took you so long?
Look, it's been a good half hour.'

And Narada saw Krishna, that half an hour
had passed, but in his head twelve years were gone, 
and in that time love, wealth, joy, sorrow, birth and death had run
the circus of their illusion
making the unmade made, then unmade again.
And this is Maya

https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Compl...nd_Freedom

[milo]

Maya

Nârada, divine sage,asked Krishna: what is Maya?
Krishna didn't reply. Days passed, and Narada forgot
his question, but also forgot
that Krishna never forgets
so when the blue god asked for his company
on a long and boring walk through the desert, Narada acquiesced.

The sun was low in the sky when Krishna said 'Narada, there's a village
due east. I am thirsty. Get me water.'
So Narada went and while the sun was still low
found a village, a house with a big wooden door
and knocked on it. It was opened
by a beautiful girl, from Kullu or Gandhar,
or Konkan or Kashmir,
and Narada fell in love. 
He didn't know how the day passed, or when it ended
or when the new lunar month began, or months became years and their love
marriage, and a family. Twelve years passed, Narada inheriting
the house, lands, cattle, and income from everywhere growing
until the flood
came and carried away his house, lands and cattle,
all but the child on his shoulders
and wife on his arm, until the tide rising
each minute washed even them away,
and once again the sun
was low in the sky and Narada was on the bank
of a dried river, hearing a soft voice ask
'You went to fetch a pitcher of water, what took you so long?
Look, it's been a good half hour.'

And Narada saw Krishna, that half an hour
had passed, but in his head twelve years were gone, 
and in that time love, wealth, joy, sorrow, birth and death had run
the circus of their illusion
making the unmade made, then unmade again.
And this is Maya

https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Compl...nd_Freedom

Great fable. Love "circus of their illusion "

[Achebe]

Thanks, milo (wtf, autocorrect almost made it 'milk').

[Leanne]

Gather round children, I'll tell you a fable
of rainbows and roses, a man who was able
to whisper "I do" and then not do at all,
but he'll tell you
how Mummy was silly. Oh, Daddy was grand.
A man works so hard he is right to demand
that Mummy be willing to come when he'd call
and he'll tell you
that each time she cried she was begging for more
and kids, ask your Mum why she walked out the door
and broke up a family, ripped you away --
yes, he'll tell you
those vows are forever; a promise once spoken
must not be forgotten and never be broken,
and look, there's no bruising -- yes, that's what he'll say
but I'll tell you
that magic exists and your lives are enchanted
and when it seems darkest a wish can be granted
and when you find love, it will be with somebody who won't
need to tell you.

[RiverNotch]

L'Etoile


To the fox, the sour grapes
became some other fruit, unworthy
of the true self -- yet enough,
perhaps, to quiet
the grumbling child, like the darkness
                     that is the lantern, once compared
                     to the distant star -- yet enough
                     perhaps, to allow
                     the shipbuilder's work, like the hunger
                                             that is the rabbit, once consumed
                                             by the roaming fox -- yet enough,
                                             perhaps, to retrace
                                             the retreating steps, like the noose
                                             that is the trellis, once compared
                     to the brilliant firmament -- yet enough,
                     perhaps, to support
                     the ready ship, like the morning
                     that is Venus, once consumed
                     by the coming sun -- yet enough,
perhaps, to awaken
the sleeping man, like the wisdom
of the inevitable failure, once compared
to the eternal course -- yet enough,
perhaps, to reach

[RiverNotch]

I got bothered with L'Etoile -- though reading it, I think it sort of produced the effect I was going for, I guess it was just a little too woozy and pointless to make for a good one. Here's an attempt at making it better:

THE GREAT UNREACHABLE

To the fox, those grapes
he could not reach
seemed
to become some other fruit -- nightshade,
perhaps, only enough
to quiet the grumbling child.

He tried to leave, naturally,
first wishing upon the distant star
that some ready ship would come and take him,
then having the haunch of farmer's rabbit
bloat his small stomach,
but already
the trellis
had become a noose, Venus
herself a morning
consumed by the coming sun.

The true lesson is
wishing upon a star
ties you to its course.