Tag Archives: National Poetry Writing Month

NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 21

flour, water, salt, hands,

diligence, speed, energy,

hot plate: his food art

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 20

“We write to taste life twice,”

Anais Nin said.

I, not even once.

 

Drowned in unknowns,

expectations,

doubts,

hopes,

ills.

Black and white.

 

Self-pity left.

Grey appeared

amid a rainbow bouquet

donned in scents galore

in the arms of human laughter.

Joy overcame sorrow.

For now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 19

female virginity

a tireless phobia

its purity

its lack as well

a timeless obsession

 

before

during

after

matrimony

intact or dissolved

an ageless restrain

 

oh, my sweet country of birth

when will you depossess

your menhood

conceive your women in whole

unveil their centuries-long wisdom?

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 18

Once again, I will meet a daily NaPoWriMo challenge, namely Day 18 by Cathy Evans – according to whom one is expected “to write a poem that begins and ends with the same word.”  Before I venture into my poem, though, I want to take us all to Encyclopedia Britannica for a background information on in medias res,the literary technique of mention within the same prompt:

“( Latin: ‘in the midst of things’) in narrative technique, the recommended practice of beginning an epic or other fictional form by plunging into a crucial situation that is part of a related chain of events; the situation is an extension of previous events and will be developed in later action. The narrative then goes directly forward, and exposition of earlier events is supplied by flashbacks. The principle is based on the practice of Homer in the Iliad and the Odyssey. The Iliad, for example, begins dramatically with the quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon during the Trojan War. The Latin poet and critic Horace has pointed out the immediate interest created by this opening in contrast to beginning the story ab ovo (‘from the egg)—i.e., from the birth of Achilles.”

 

great despair

professional dead-end

labor-rich occupation

health concerns-laden living

gravely limited means

private life, non-existing

 

The alternative?

His sole question.

You loved not once

but twice

yet both have gone their ways

your stronghold – your mother

no longer

father, remarried

brother, wedded

but you…

I worry.

 

He, on a pedestal

same with my brother

they would know, I resolved

forced the heart’s un-yearning aside

stayed on, and on, and on

 

until it broke

the rope that held me back

 

went where I had left it off

 

inhaled

exhaled

exhaled again

again

and again

 

lived

euphoria

on the path

of the spirit

the authentic one

freed yet once again

from pre-natal melancholy

in a vane attempt

to pre-empt

the persistence of

great despair

 

 

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 17

Today, I adapt to the prompt from day 6 on the NaPoWriMo challenge but it is day 17. Since all prompts are optional, I take this liberty with no feelings of guilt (!)  Maureen Thorson describes the task as follows: “[…] This might seem like a bit of a downer, but I challenge you to write a valediction. This is a poem of farewell.  Perhaps the most famous one is John Donne’s “A Valediction Forbidding Mourning”, which turns the act of saying good-bye into a very tender love poem. But your poem could say “good-bye” (and maybe good riddance!) to anything or anyone. A good-bye to winter might be in order, for example. Or good-bye to the week-old [E]aster eggs in your refrigerator. Light or serious, long or short, it’s up to you!”

As a semi-confident pessimist, my heart takes me to a serious goodbye, one I have dreaded severely during my daughter’s infant, toddler, formative, teenage years and even early twenties. For I had feared to leave her without a mother when she still needed one.  Now that she is a young but very mature adult, I am able to shed those feelings of dread…

 

my mother, grieving over her own

believed I must leave before I arrived

my melancholy is meant to be

don’t you, *Bir Tanem, ever think thus!

 

I

grieved over her;

him, whom you know of;

myself, the once intact one;

my accidental life

them, who loved me so

yet migrated one by one

 

I

aching heart

I

burdened years

I

a *can torn from *canan

I

on eternal leave

had arrived this time

 

You

just don your prominent smile, Bir Tanem!

Let your beautiful self evade all ills!

Hold that delightful thrill in your eyes!

 

Life is stunning, as it is arduous.

Hurt is incredibly real but so is joy.

 

You

keep at your path through and through

don’t forget to taste others, too

demand from your crossroads – one or two

to not close you in with whomever!

Whether a mate or a lover,

make sure to only have a *dost beside you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Turkish words in translation:

Bir Tanem: My One and Only

can: life; soul

canan: the beloved

dost (in its original meaning): gender-neutral friend for life; bad-time friend

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 16

are we exhausting

our existential limit

to cast more victims?

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 15

On this fifteenth day of the NaPoWriMo challenge, I am embracing (as I have done some other times) the “([…] totally optional) prompt! [… Namely,] to write a pantun Not a pantoum — though they are related. The pantun is a traditional Malay form, a style of which was later adapted into French and then English as the pantoum. A pantun consists of rhymed quatrains (abab), with 8-12 syllables per line. The first two lines of each quatrain aren’t meant to have a formal, logical link to the second two lines, although the two halves of each quatrain are supposed to have an imaginative or imagistic connection. […] The associative leap from the first couplet to the second allows for a great deal of surprise and also helps give the poems are very mysterious and lyrical quality.”

Tanam selasih di tengah padang,
Sudah bertangkai diurung semut,
Kita kasih orang tak sayang,
Halai-balai tempurung hanyut.

[The original example above has also been provided by NaPoWriMo]

I have liked the challenge this time so much that I tried to compose Pantun poems in the three languages I am familiar with.  All three poems below are my original work: Not translations between the different languages but each holding its own content within the prescribed lyrical form.

A Pantun in Turkish (Love for a town)

ülkemin en alçakgönüllü köşesi

almış çoktan aklımı başımdan

denizinin coşkun gelesi gidesi

kucaklıyor anılarımı karşıdan

A Pantun in English

often advice is given on self-respect

what, though, are the selves’ conditions?

how can it be feasible to expect

that there exist “one fits all” admonitions?

A Pantun in German (Love for a person)

sie dachte, sie entstand aus liebe allein

alles aufzuopfern, dazu war sie bereit

er war vornehm, gebildet und sehr fein

jedoch ging es nicht weiter zu zweit

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 14

*we ate our girl’s head

no cannibalistic act

parental failure

 

*Biz bu kızın başını yedik!” (Turkish) A loving tribute to a living child whose life quality may have been compromised on account of parental mistakes.

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 13

The Backyard Circus

 

a squirrel feeder

a small-bird-feeder

within a friendly distance

 

squirrels acrobat on, at, along the bird-turf

bunnies circle round and round beneath the squirrel food supplier

small birds peck on what’s left on the squirrel ground from before

a cardinal, too large for the bird feeder, dances with grace and hope for left-overs

crows, inching closer and closer, hope for yet another feeder

the chipmunk opts for a hiding spot

knows my decorative stones

mean peace

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NaPoWriMo Challenge: Day 12

“Today’s offering comes to us from Charles Bernstein’s list of poetry experiments. In particular, today I challenge you to ‘write a poem consisting entirely of things you’d like to say, but never would, to a parent, lover, sibling, child, teacher, roommate, best friend, mayor, president, corporate CEO, etc.’ Honesty is the best policy, after all, so get it off your chest!” (NaPoWriMo – About)

your mother was dying

you considered aborting

for fear of insufficient nourishing

 

at birth

your arms were embracing

from your lips, words of sadness

 

in a tiny bundle

underdeveloped

covered in body hair

no contest to your first-born

yet your love, all the same

 

when did the domination begin?

 

to wear this but not that

to use grace while stepping on a path

not to let the shoulder rise for a tote

head up,

relax neck,

one foot before the other

make them heed a tight distance

arms, not swinging back and forth

but rather in harmony with the rest

draw liner outside the lids, never mark the inside

mascara, only on occasion

no need to color the lips

the cheeks

but cover acne

with dark shade powder

multiple layers are desired

wear long hair uncaged

but not below the waist

no need to access the lack of height

Henna is a must

for it enhances

the beauty of olive skin.

 

He is the ever first

besides, too young

a bookish boy

an only child

his mother over-demands

his cousin over-reacts

his aunts, too modern

 

He, a dream come true!

In looks and in age –

 

No need to meet every day.

 

His mother…

 

His sister…

 

No, no!  Not at all okay.

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