2026 NaPM 4 April

[RiverNotch]

Write a poem for National Poetry Month based on the topic described....rather, write a poem set in, pertaining to, or inspired by the given region, whether its entirety or just some part of it, as this year's prompts are going to be unified by the theme "Around the World" like last year's prompts were unified by the theme "Esoterica". Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. There are three levels of participation:

Bronze. Participated at least once.

Silver. Participated every day.

Gold. Participated every day, with all entries either being the same form (e.g., every one a sonnet) or being distinct forms (e.g., no two haiku).


Today's region is Venezuela, the Guianas, the Caribbean, and Bermuda.

[Mark A Becker]

Altuve

While so many
of your brothers and sisters
are being rounded up
and given a one-way ticket
to Caracas, you've remained
in America for nearly 20 years
because you are among the best
at playing baseball.

In and out of US airports
all summer long, you travel
freely, because you are
among the very best
at playing basball.

[ilovewomenandbeer]

Swingers
Naked Nassau,
free sinners
sun-burned skin.

If you like
piña coladas.

Pineapple crews—
no wedding bands,
corks flying.

Naked Nassau,
free sinners
through the night.

[dukealien]

If You Remember


Someday you will laugh about this, dear darkened
Venezuela:  minerals and your people’s
gracious spirit haven’t been stolen, only
hidden from bandits.

Soon all those who sadly have left their country
can return to spread around smiles they carried
with them for you in their long exile - you must
only remember

verdant gardens, elegant living, happy
children safe from hunger and ruin.  And you’ll
never yield your trust to a “strong man” bully
if you remember.

[CRNDLSM]

That I'm alive's incredible,
surviving almost out of spite,
attempts to make life meaningful.

I live in fear, afraid to fight 
pretend to stand up for what's right,
You won't see me dip in the sea
Or catch a bee, or climb a tree, 

explore Bermuda's Triangle,
or face off with my enemy.
Sometimes I'm just a lucky fool

[Truerenigma]

I pull the lever on the slot machine
This time not looking for three cherries in a row
But looking for the perfect combination of words
Which tells me just how right I am. That godlike
Dictionary always knows which page to open to,
And always puts my picture on the page.
We are both so brilliant! Reading is like
Looking in the mirror to find I truly am
The fairest, the fairest of them all.
Clickety clack I press the buttons
At the statistical, dictionary slots
Then watch it swirl. This one will be a winner.
I can see my reflection in its face, reassuring
Me everything's okay, and I am right,
And everyone who disagrees is wrong.
They just don't understand the words, the words
It plays for me. I nod and pat my pocket full of tokens
With a grin. Today is the day I win it all.

[RiverNotch]

Haiti


Mountains piled upon mountains formed his cage,
the shackles about his ankles basalt, granite
about his wrists, yet nothing to stop his mouth.

His shouts were heard at first by enslaved natives
and then, as war and sickness took their toll,
by those black bodies brought as their replacement.

Sugar became a poison. Whatever syrup
trickled into his tomb oozed green and bitter:
through the white man's blood alone would he know sweetness.

Thus thirteen years of fight and hundreds of thousands
slaughtered on either side struck as a hammer
against his chains, his captors' craft alone

preventing full freedom, spinning from silver and gold
another accursed mountain: a leaden ransom
so huge that the giant continues to lie inhumed
as still his people suffer to be so poor.

[wasellajam]

Meg, Home From Travel

Muscle memory:
I was once a poet
before all poems became one,
all poets became one,
I was the swirl, not the eye.
Before, before
I became the eye.

Now the tornado
has skipped, skipped
skipped and flown off
still, I am the silent
eye, seeing.

Shreds of grief, of joy
shed from my skin,
pick up speed
and rotation.
Words, they're words.

Meg writes a poem
because it's April.

[JohnS]

Havana

'56 Chevy made to look fine
like a worn out diva
dressed to the nines,
still on stage
but forgetting her lines.

Crumbling facades on tired avenues,
streets where kids have no shoes,
where hopelessness looms.

Somewhere a horn is blowing the blues.

[dukealien]

Havana

'56 Chevy made to look fine
like a worn out diva
dressed to the nines,
still on stage
but forgetting her lines.

Crumbling facades on tired avenues,
streets where kids have no shoes,
where hopelessness looms.

Somewhere a horn is blowing the blues.

Very nice - good rhymes and near-rhymes  appropriately placed.  Good beat.

[fastmarshmallow]

Patty Shop

A motor’s buzzing, muted.
Patties piled up high.
Flame cranks up, seventy five
beats a minute.
In 4/4 time I tap my knee,
and snare on three.

“A dollah mi darlin.”
Lips curl like cats stretch.
Smile lines deep enough 
to count.
Gold tooth glistens like 
Well-oiled grill.

A man stumbles in,
His eyes are flushed,
and locks are loose.
He starts to sing
and beats his drum until

it smells like green,
black and gold.


I very luckily got to see The Wailers in a live concert. Hearing 'One Love' and 'Could You be Loved' live was one of those experiences you can never quite put into words.

[Magpie]

The West Indies

I don't really like cricket.

But I'm a fan of my Granda
and when he used to look after
my sister and I at Christmas
we would watch cricket together.

The howling wet wintry winds
of North East England gave way
to the steel drums and scorched earth
of the azure skied Caribbean.

Mad midday sun Englishmen
hopelessly hit for sixes
and fours by a West Indies 
sniper like batting barrage.

I like cricket it makes me feel warm.

[Wjames]

Pink sand flotillas plough the reef,
royal peppermint trades salt
Bermuda cedar.