Return of the...

On this final day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2020, we are challenged not to write a farewell poem, but one of something that returns, as I will to this blog at the same time next year. Until then, happy writing and enjoy!

Dandelion

Even if I pull your roots

from the earth,

you'll appear elsewhere –

yellow heads gazing up

and soft white puffs 

bobbing on the breeze

I could pick your delicate seeds

before they spread,

but you anyway manage 

to appear elsewhere

So, I'll leave you be

to tell the time with each

blow of my breath,

to spread your joy

so you may appear elsewhere

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Man's best friend

On this penultimate day of Na/GloPoWriMo, our prompt is to write a poem which acknowledges a pet. As I no longer have any of my own, I shall write one to my sister's dachshund, Lilo.

Queen Lilo

Her majesty would rather lie in,

enrobed in fleece blankets

upon a giant pillow

When Queen Lilo does rise,

her nose emerges before paws,

her head before body

She refuses to walk on wet grass,

but will weave between plants,

hunting lizards and birds

Yet, will sit on your lap

with wide, innocent eyes –

it's her right as queen of the household!

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

A room somewhere...

Today's prompt is two-fold. First, we are to read Martha Dickinson Bianchi's (Emily Dickinson's niece) description of her aunt's room. The Emily Dickinson Museum then prompts us to write a poem in which we describe a bedroom from our past.

Safe haven

A shade of winter morning

caressed the walls,

a beach-coloured carpet underfoot

and denim curtains drawn open

to welcome the sun

Posters of teenage dreams 

clung to once empty spaces,

and music lifted the downtrodden

while I stayed up late 

in the silence of my haven –

listening, reading, writing –

away from outside world

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Review

Our challenge today is "to write a poetic review of something that isn't normally reviewed."

Online catch-up

It was good to see your faces,

be they two-dimensional,

sometimes blurred 

or frozen in place,

and our conversation

b r ok e    n on occasion

It is good to know 

that you are just moments away

without the drive

or flight –

the journeys we so want to take

It is good that we can still catch-up

over coffee and cake,

though we can never 

steal a taste of each others' treats

But it was good to see your faces

through the broken connections

and blurry lenses

of a new world

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Time

Today's prompt is to write  poem based on our responses in the given "Almanac Questionnaire." My answers and the poem to follow:

Almanac Questionnaire

Weather: Cloudy, but warm
Flora: Inca lily
Architecture: Tuscan
Customs: I'm not big on customs
Mammals/reptiles/fish: dogs, cats and lizards
Childhood dream: To live in the mountains
Found on the street: 20c
Export: Fruit and wine
Graffiti: on Edinburgh's streets ("Down with London rule")
Lover: Whahahahahaha
Conspiracy: Is China trying to sink the world's economies?
Dress: Black swing dress with white polka dots
Hometown memory: Riding bicycles in the street
Notable person: Passenger (Mike Rosenberg. He is notable to me)
Outside your window, you find: a herb box
Today's news headline: "SA's COVID-19 death toll hits 87, infections rise to 4546"
Scrap from a letter: "eat marshmallows on the moon" (from a birthday card)
Animal from a myth: dragon
Story read to children at night: Little Red Riding Hood
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: a view of a sunset
You walk to the border and hear: silence
What you fear: needles
Picture on your city's postcard: the Union Buildings

Never the same

Will I ever walk the streets of Edinburgh again,

trying to hide a smile at her graffiti,

shouting "Down with London rule"?

Will I ever ride a bicycle again

like when I was a kid

or dance again in

my black swing dress 

with the white polka dots?

Will I ever get to live in the mountains,

eat marshmallows on the moon,

or meet a dragon?

The world looks different,

yet –

the herb box beneath my window,

my salmon pink Inca lilies,

and the silent sunsets

remain

But

it will never be the same

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

How's the weather?

Today's challenge (and it certainly is a challenge), was developed by Hoa Nguyen, a poet and teacher. We are to use James Schuyler's poem Hymn to Life as a guidepost for our poetry. However, it is not as simple as it seems, as you will discover when viewing the entire challenge here.

Were it not quite so deep into the evening and had I more energy, I may have jumped for joy at the challenge (which I certainly will do if I remember it at an hour when I am more alert). However, I am usually winding down at this time of day. Therefore, I choose to be inspired by a few of the recommended inclusions without reading Schuyler for about 24 minutes (apparently).

The storm

The red, orange, yellow, brown

leaves quiver

in the unusually warm wind

The once clear sky,

now shrouded in thick darkness

threatens to tear apart

A bright flash singes

a trembling horizon

followed by rumbling sky drums 

The leaves, 

terrified

fall

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Fruity

Today's prompt is to write a poem about a particular fruit of our choosing, but we should describe the fruit as closely as possible.

Pineapple

Queen of the tropics,

I stand tall,

crowned,

shielded in golden armour

If anyone dare 

dig beyond 

my prickly countenance,

they'll find I'm pleasant

for I too bleed sweet nectar

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Alpha Beta

Today's prompt is to write a poem "about a particular letter of the alphabet" or "the letters that form a short word." We may be inspired by the shape of the letter(s) as a springboard for our poems.

I think I will combine all of the above...

 F plays fanfares and flys flags,

U holds all the joy in its arms,

         N may let you down, but only once

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Idioms translated

We are challenged today "to find an idiomatic phrase from a different language or culture" and use it as a springboard for a poem. I have chosen an idiom from one of my additional languages, Afrikaans: "katjie van die baan," literally translated as "kitten of the track," meaning the same as "social butterfly" in English.

Kitten of the track

She was a kitten of the track,

but now she's stuck 

in a basket called home,

pouring over art and poetry,

lapping up the easy, free time

and basking in the sunshine

of her solitude

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Do you speak...?

Today's prompt is a fun one! We're to make use of the given resource, Poetry International, to find a poem in a language we don't know and write a 'homophonic translation' of it. In other words, we're to write a poem, no matter how weird and wonderful it may turn out to be, "simply based on how it sounds."

I would love to have chosen a poem in Assamese, purely because I had never heard of the language until this evening, but I, alas, cannot read their script. Neither can I read Armenian, or Dogri. So, I have chosen a poem in Irish (Gaelic) called Glaoch by Doireann Ní Ghríofa. I have no doubt that this will turn out rather badly...*Cue laughter.

Glare

Nigh chandeliers

on corded coal,

on string they left on sin near more.

I roam say near Rio Mari,

nigh thick lime

do good a bro near guy err do more close.

Nigh close him to ag annually. A noise, say a line lag so

an' t-nigh' she gal am mine at a ear drain

a gust timid

as a shale

air is

is

air is a-la

Andrea Vermaak @ 2020

Gifts

We're challenged today to write a poem about a handmade gift we've received. I know exactly the gift I will always treasure...

Paper flower

It was a bad morning –

I was older

and Dad wasn't home

I wished the day away

without fuss,

without incident,

without acknowledgement

But my sister 

came into my room,

paper flower in hand,

twisted onto a green pipe cleaner –

she thought it'd cheer me up

Bittersweet tears filled my eyes;

how such simple 

pink and blue tissue paper

could humble so

and make me so grateful

all at once

That precious paper flower –

the best birthday gift ever

Andrea Vermaak © 2020 

Urban discoveries...

Today's prompt challenges us to write a poem "based on a 'walking archive.'" In other words, a poem based on interesting things we have gathered while on a walk.

As I am not able to go for a walk during this time of lockdown, I will write about a beautiful flower in my garden.

Inca lilly. © Photograph by Andrea Vermaak

           

Inca lily

At first, I thought you were a weed,

I nearly pulled you out,

but then you bloomed

when the summer came:

four soft salmon-pink heads

in a roundabout,

your brown freckles

popping 

against bright yellow;

what joy that I kept you!

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

The little things

We're challenged today to write an ode to life's small pleasures. There is so much that I enjoy and so many things for which I am grateful, I could write volumes. However, I'm going to try to focus my thoughts...

Every little thing

It's being able to lie in,

not rush,

do my own thing

It's time with family,

with friends,

just sitting with them

It's fresh filter coffee,

cheese cake

and flowers in my garden

It's bird song,

a spring breeze,

even contented silence

It's an absorbing book,

sad songs

and poetry

It's night markets,

violins

and laughter

It's dancing across the street,

watching sunsets with friends

and sad goodbyes

It's every little thing

in every little moment

forever in my mind

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Return to retro

Today, we're challenged "to write a poem that features forgotten technology." I know just what I'll write about!

Cassette

I'd sit for hours after dinner

and on Saturday mornings,

waiting,

fingers poised,

hovering -

ever ready -

just above 'Record' and 'Play'

Patience paid off

when my instincts

got the better of the DJ:

A favourite song

perfectly recorded,

ready,

waiting

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

With compliments

Our prompt today is to write a poem, which compliments a person, place, or thing we love, praising "it in the most effusive way" with "over-the-top compliments." I don't hand out compliments unless I mean them and I feel awkward receiving them, but let's see how this goes...It's late, so this time I'm really going to try my best to keep it short.

If you were

If you were a book,

I'd read you

If you were a film,

I'd watch and re-watch you

If you were music,

I'd play you on repeat

If you were streets,

I'd get lost in you

But I can only hold you

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

...and cue music!

Today's prompt has arrived right on schedule. I've been itching to try my hand at writing lyrics and now we've been challenged to write a poem inspired by our favourite kind of music. I can't wait!

Now, I happen to like several different genres and performers, but I've had one particular song in my head for a few days. Perhaps I will try to write my own lyrics to the rhythm...or at least part of the song.

Don't go 

Could you not,

Could not go far away?

Not today -

I'll miss it all

Could you stay?

Could you not just stay today?

Don't fade away -

I'll miss it all

Tell me, can you turn back time?

I need you now -

don't turn me down

Tell me, can turn back time?

Just turn around

and tell me that you'll stay

I wish you weren't leaving today,

If only I could make you stay,

don't go, don't go, don't go,

don't you go away

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Inspired

We're challenged today "to write a poem that deals with the poems, poets, and other people who inspired you to write poems." I think this may be a difficult one...Perhaps I'll keep it short.

It can't say that Shakespeare,

nor Elliot,

nor Lawrence

inspired my poems

But love

and fear

and anxiety

War,

sad songs,

and moonlit nights

Fairies

and fantasy

and adventure

Far away places,

friends,

secrets

Long goodbyes

and deep-seated desires,

pain

Above all:

the beauty of words

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Stolen time

We're challenged today to write 'a non-apology for the things' we've stolen. Besides taking and hiding one of my sister's toys as a child, I can't say I'm a thief by any means. However, I may have...

Stolen time

A moment of your time

was all I wanted,

but you refused

I was so polite

when I called,

but you didn't listen

You assumed you knew

what I wanted to ask,

but you hung up

A moment of your time

was all I wanted,

but you refused

I'm not sorry 

for wasting your time

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

A triolet of gratitude

Today's challenge is to write a triolet. It consists of eight lines, repetition and only two rhymes throughout. I am going to attempt a poem of gratitude as it is Easter Sunday...

He rose again

On this day, He rose again,

The stone was rolled away,

He suffered agony and pain;

On this day, He rose again;

Crucified but for our gain,

Our gratitude we show today,

On this day, He rose again,

The stone was rolled away.

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

The language of flowers

Today's prompt "is based on the concept of the language of flowers." We are challenged "to write a poem in which one or more flowers take on specific meanings." We may make use of the recommended glossary of flower meanings or create our own meanings. I like the traditional meanings, so I'm going to use them.

The neighbourhood

Cobæa creeps over the walls,

through fences

and onto balconies

But my garden grows

white chrysanthemums

and 

bluebells

I refuse to speak 

under the white cherry trees,

or lie beneath the bladder nut tree

I will not walk among the bugloss,

but among the borus henricus

and beneath the acacias

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Cobæa = gossip
White chrysanthemums = truth
Bluebells = constancy
White cherry tree = deception
bladder nut tree = frivolity, amusement
Bugloss = falsehood
Borus henricus = goodness
Acacia = friendship

A new take on the haiku

Our prompt today seems quick and easy, but I think it may just fox me yet! We are to write a hay(na)ku; a variant on the haiku, created by poet Eileen Tobios and named by Vince Gotera, a long-time Na/GloPoWriMo participant.

A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza. The first line has one word, the second has two, and the third line – you guessed it – has three words.

We may write just one hay(na)ku, or link several together to create a longer poem. I have always believed that less is more, so I will try my best to write a single powerful hay(na)ku as the original haiku was intended to be written.

I'll take inspiration from my present circumstances...

Silence

all around

except one cricket

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Quite shapely

Today's prompt is to write "a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem." Let's see if you can guess what my poem is about...

I rise only to fall; from one 

                                                      state                                       to another 

                                                   and                                                         back again; 

                                      sometimes                                                               more solid

                                 than before;                                                                      sometimes

                                       life soft little fairy flakes that float to and fro in winter winds

                                                 but               mostly,              I          fall               in

                                              light                showers;            sometimes           storms        

                                                or                     even                monsoons;         occasionally

                                              during               hurricanes              or                  tornadoes

                                            creating                flash                 floods,                  but

                                            mostly,                    I                      serve                     to

                                            quench                  the                       dry                    throat

                                               of                       the                      thirst                   Earth

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

(It does not quite look as I envisioned, but it's about the words, right, and not the shape?)

A poem within a poem?

Today's prompt is "to peruse the work of one or more" of the recommended Twitter bots and to "use a line or two, or a phrase or even a word" to inspire a poem.

I didn't have to look very far to know that I love this line on the Sylvia Plath Bot (@SylviaPlathBot) Twitter account: "I am not ready for anything to happen."

I am not ready

I am not ready for anything to happen

until I am done writing poetry

and creating tiny bits of art

I am not ready to leave

until I am done reading 

my Russian murder mystery

I am not ready to step back out

until I am comfortable in my home

- perhaps I am already too comfortable?

I am not ready for anything new

until the old matters have resolved themselves

and fought their fight

I am not ready for anything to happen –

yet.

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Hear all about it!

Today's prompt can't be closer to my heart. As a qualified journalist and poet at heart, I can't not appreciate a prompt to write a poem based on a news article. I really like one of the suggested articles from which to draw inspiration: "Publo Escobar's 'Cocaine Hippos' May Be Restoring Colombia's Ecosystem".

There's a hippo in my lake

There's a hippo in my lake;

I lie - there's four

I bought them with blood money

just because I thought it funny

There's a hippo in my lake;

I lie again - there's six

Soon there will be many

and I wouldn't have to spend a penny

There's a hippo in my lake;

I lie - there's more

Soon, they'll all wreak havoc

in water and on shore

There's a hippo in my lake;

when I'm gone, there'll be scores

Perhaps they'll restore balance;

perhaps surprise us all.

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

The weird and wonderful

Ooh, I like the sound of today's challenge: to write a poem from the point of view of one person/animal/thing from Jheronimus Bosch's The Garden of Earthly Delights.

The Berry-Purple Head Man

He thought I was smitten -

I was not

He thought I liked his company -

I did not

He thought he was funny -

he was not

But he did amuse me,

fascinate me

He was weird,

he was captivating

I could not keep my eyes off

his berry-purple head

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

"Twenty Little Poetry Projects"

Our challenge today is to use all of Jim Simmerman's "Twenty Little Poetry Projects" to write a poem. I'll do my very best! This is bound to be absurd...

The stage

She was a swan, floating on stage,

though her wings were flesh not feathers

The stagnant air smelled of sweat and hairspray,

bloodied pointe shoes

and burnt matches to stop ribbons fraying

Hair in stiffly pulled back buns,

smothered in sticky gel;

not a hair was allowed out of place

The anxious violins of tension 

spun the dancer around the floor,

flailing, begging for her life,

While Annie will stand in the wings,

hoping that the reek will disappear

- it will affect the taste of her apple -

"Man, but this place is minging,"

She'll say

The dancer slips, but her wingless wings

let her glide across the floor

before she finally dies

in the stench

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Dreamy

Today's prompt is to write a poem based on an image from a dream. I have a few recurring dreams, especially when I am under pressure. One of them has such an image, scene if you like, in it...

The Far Below

I stand atop a steep, steep cliff

and far below me is the sea;

the beach is full of people;

they're happy - you'd agree

There is a narrow path beside me

that some take in their stride,

but when I tried to walk it,

it vanishes, it hides

I cannot reach the Far Below,

I watch it from up high,

it sometimes pains me to know

I'll have to say goodbye

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Rhyme

I know that the poetry convener of my local writing circle would love today's prompt because he loves...rhyme!

We are prompted to make a list of any ten words, generated in whatever fashion we fancy, and then use the suggested resource, RhymeZone, to identify two or four similar-sounding or rhyming words. We are then to use our completed list of words to write a poem, but we need not use every word. This should be fun...

My list

1. radio: flow, show
2. song: strong, wrong
3. fiddles: riddles, tarradiddles
4. tap: clap, wrap
5. drum: strum, glum
6. voice: choice, rejoice
7. dance: chance, prance
8. twirl: swirl, whirl
9. laugh: autograph, last half, staff
10. jig: dig, gig

The ceilidh

I was listening to the radio,

when halfway through that very show,

just before they played a song,

I heard a message and heard it strong

A ceilidh there would be with fiddles,

the presenter never told tarradiddles,

I knew that this would be my chance

to dance like I had never danced

With young strapping Scot I'll twirl,

he'll have my head all in a whirl;

indeed we'll toe-tap to the drum,

and clap in time to guitar strum

We'll jig as if we had no choice,

and as we dance the vine, rejoice!

Until the sweet, sweet end I'll laugh

and end up leaving with the staff

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

A special place

Our prompt today is to write a poem about a specific place, incorporating concrete details as much as possible. I know exactly what I want to write about!

The Scotsman's Lounge

Near the steep top of Cockburn Street,

close to The Royal Mile,

lay a cosy pub of sorts

that always makes me smile

See, every Sunday night at eight

the wee pub became full;

when Andy Chung began to play

you couldn't help leave your stool

We'd sing, we'd dance

and drink cheap ale;

an old wee lass would jive and jig,

her cheeks were flushed, not pale

Sid would dance with her at times,

he'd dance with everyone;

the warm, stale air would rise,

but no one would go home

Andy would play 'til midnight came

and we'd reluctantly move out,

the cold, crisp air felt colder still

with winter still about

I miss that time in Edinburgh;

all seemed right with my world,

but I'm grateful to have spent time there;

how else could these memories be told?

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Life is a metaphor

It may be day six of a 21-day COVID-19 lockdown in South Africa, but it is the first day of National Poetry Writing Month again! It is an annual challenge which I excitedly anticipate each year because it stretches and hones my poetry writing skills like none other.

Today's challenge is to write a self-portrait poem in which we "make a specific action a metaphor" for our lives; "one that typically isn't done all that often, or only in specific circumstances."

I think this challenge is very apt given the worldwide crisis we are facing because many of us are working from home, socially distancing and generally rethinking the way in which we live.

As excruciating as social distancing and isolation may be to some (I do respect this - truly), I am enjoying the peace and quiet that is much needed after many rough months in my life. Therefore, I would like to write a poem on a lighter note - from a positive perspective - using various figures of speech.

When Life became a hermit

Life became a hermit,

huddled in her flat,

safe from strange happenings

She washed the dishes,

and dusted at midday;

saved her leftover lunches

Life played her music

and danced all around

between her many emails

She sat on the grass,

sketching a tiny clover,

enjoying the afternoon sun

Life watched movies,

and had video chats,

playing D&D with friends

She did not mind

the peace, the quiet;

in-between the busy times

Andrea Vermaak © 2020