NaPM April 12 2013

[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 12: Write a poem inspired by a historical event.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more.

Questions?

[Todd]

Unsinkable

There was first the dark,
and then the limitless sea.
Nobody issued a challenge
to the waves.
Polyphemus is blind,
and we are like sheep.
Nobody is that first scrape of ice
under the dimming eye of God.

[NakedBear]

Halifax

The brown pier pile stood bereft
of friends, with heel dug in
to cold stiffened sands awaiting spring.

And on his face beat winds
awash with off-white spatter,
strewn across those windy breaks
by ribald gulls.

But gulls then washed ashore
on sudden spring blows
born from harboring sun,
which kindly warmed the waters.

Those winds then turned to summer,
and carried their season to the souls
shivering on ascending walls of the sea.

They drove their heat
through windows closed,
tens of thousand strong,

to thrill awoken children,
yet chill their hearts to stone
beneath glass leaves of fall;

Then again were they laid in winter’s depths,
as the pile was then in sand.

EDIT: removed some cliches and stuff.

[cidermaid]

Bluebird.

A guttural roar resounded across the bay.
Bouncing off countless, tightly bound grains
that tingled underfoot with shockwaves
of excitement. Reverberating deep
throated, in twelve singing stainless
steel birds, that flew over Pendine sands.
A beam of sun that shot from conception
to destination. Arrowing at a fraction
over one hundred and forty six into post
and pre-war locked hearts. Exiting
through a small boy, now departed.

[justcloudy]

...I guess I'm not the only one that had a problem with this assignment? ;p

anyway this was a little experiment, sticking to meter but bypassing any rhymes. I think it's safe to say the experiment failed-- I'm far from pleased with this. but whatever, in the spirit of NaPM:


A.E.

She teased the clouds with bravery,
we craned our necks to see her soar.

We waved au revoir, à bientôt!
and cloudy skies eclipsed her craft.

Our own Meely flew high above
around the world, she said, I'll go,

with copilot and fragile plane
with all the latest tech aboard.

But voice clicked off, her signal lost...
we searched the sea on the sun line,

poor Meely's trace eluded us;
her heart stays in the blowing air.

[brandontoh]

Boy & Man

We foresaw it.
Dystopia.
Entropy is not an end state,
it's in our instinct.
We're hellspawns, destroying without remorse.
Those claiming otherwise: hypocrites.

Fallout, the clear sky blocked, horizons vanished
but the truth has never been more obvious.
The devil's symbol is neither the pentagram nor the goat's skull.
It's two mushroom clouds rising
in their own rhythm
challenging everything holy.