April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo Prompts 2024 Days 2 and 3

 

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Greetings, poetry people! I got behind and lost my mind because that shit happens, but now I'm back to share prompts with you and wax philosophical on this poetical day.

I created a two-verse Senryu using the following prompts.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2024-april-pad-challenge-day-2

The first Twofer Tuesday for this year's April PAD Challenge invites poets to create a sad poem and/or a happy poem. My poem was a bit of both because it honors a friend who is no longer of this world, but he still visits me in dreams. Believe that or don't. Any comments written with the intent of stirring the shit will be ignored.

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-two-11/

The April PAD Challenge prompt integrated nice like stir fry and rice with the NaPoWriMo prompt, which asks poets to write a platonic love poem. I love my phantom pal very much, and it's always been a platonic kind of love. I'm his kid sister from another mother. When you learn that I'm 59 and he would be 77 if he were still here, that may sound kind of funny. I say there are some people who can make you feel young no matter how old you are, and if you have one of those people on your team, they're an MVP. 

And now, on to Day 3.

Cactus Clem

Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

"Hey Grover, I'm startin' a black metal band!"

Ghost Town Grover

Free use image from Clker Free Vector Images

"That's swell, Clem! What's it called?"

To understand more about why I think this is funny, read this.

https://www.nme.com/photos/31-illegible-black-metal-band-logos-1435801

This bit of humor isn't entirely original on my part. Someone once posted a photo of a pile of wood on Facebook stating it was going to be their new black metal band's name. 

Now, how in the world did I get started down this path?

Follow along if you dare.

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-three-10/

Today's prompt asks poets to pen a surreal prose poem. They suggest taking inspiration from a collection of Franz Kafka's parables. 

https://read.aimeepong.com/parables/0/

The first thing I saw when I got there was this image.

Image by Aimee Pong

The image rather reminded me of a black metal band logo. Combine that with the April PAD Challenge prompt, which asks participants to include a musical artist in their poem title, and my bad brain started working overtime.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2024-april-pad-challenge-day-3

It's serendipity, I suppose, that I'd recently gone down a black metal rabbit hole while doing a bit of research to try and get back into writing the stuff I really love rather than spending most of my creation time trying to generate the elusive social currency. 

I'm not sure I managed to nail the surreal part. I decided to roll with a Haibun. It was speculative but not necessarily surreal. I dedicated it to this dude who used the stage name Dead during his brief life. He has been inspiring my work for a couple of decades now and still does.

Per Ohlin

16 January 1969 - 8 April 1991

He was a talented and creative person, although deeply troubled. I prefer sharing this photo over those in which he's wearing his stage attire. Too much has been made of his image. There is, unfortunately, a notorious photo of the aftermath of his suicide that is still in circulation today. I will repeat what his bandmates from Morbid had to say about that.

No thanks to the distributors and buyers of the post-mortem pic. Fuck you.

I will add this.

Show some damn respect.

Ornery Owl Has Spoken in a Grim and Frostbitten Voice

Image by chiplanay from Pixabay

You don't really want ole Ornery to make a black metal album.

Trust me on this.

Remembering: An Elegy For My Father

 

Christmas tree by Tessa Rampersad on Unsplash

Remembering the day when your turn came

I knew that things would never be the same.

You went over the top on holidays

Our home was filled with the spirit of praise.

I always remember those Christmas scenes

I catch glimpses of childhood in my dreams.

It's now been thirteen years that you've been gone

The grief is not as sharp but still as strong.

notes

https://dversepoets.com/2023/11/02/mtb-lets-lament-without-the-lachrymose/

Topic:

someone close to you

someone vaguely known e.g a neighbour

someone totally unknown except through deeds or writings eg a dead poet perhaps like the recently deceased Louise Gluck

a group of people (eg as in Gray’s “Elegy written in a country churchyard”)

Form: Must include these three elements, ordered thus:

lament –expressing grief and sorrow

praise – admiration of the deceased

consolation and solace

It can be written as 3 distinct sections/stanzas or melded together but keeping the order above

Style: The elegy can be written in any metre the poet chooses.

Those of you who prefer more stricture and guidance might like to try the Elegiac metre:

rhyming coupleted lines (AA;BB;CC etc though not separated into couplets)

written in dactylic hexameter and pentameter

The last two lines aren't in strict keeping with the form, but I wanted them there.

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-62/

The prompt word is turn. Since I can't play by the rules and my poem has eight lines instead of six, I won't be linking up this time.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-4

Write a catching poem. 

You will find the word catch in the above poem.

Something has been vaguely steaming my ham for quite some time. It isn't a big deal, it's just one of those things that mildly perturbs me, so I'm going to get it out in the open. It has to do with my occasional use of multiple prompts.

A few years back, I used a lot more prompts in creating my work than I currently do. I believe this was partly because of ADHD and partly because of a lack of confidence in my abilities. Whatever the case, the prompts helped inspire me, as they still do.

One fellow, and I'm not going to name names, wrote an entire post about not understanding people who see the need to use multiple prompts.

These days if I use more than one prompt it's because the first prompt may spark an idea but I need more to help the idea manifest. So, I roll down my list of prompt sources until I find what I need to work my magic.

I'm explaining shit anyway because I'm sick of this foolishness nibbling at me.

My dude, what difference does it make how many prompts another poet does or doesn't use in the creation of his or her work? I'm not coming to your house, holding a gun to your head, and commanding you to use more prompts or else. I fail to see why someone else's process differing from yours would be cause for writing an entire dissertation on the subject. 

Anyway, I thought of this because I used three prompts in creating this poem, and I don't apologize for it. If anyone just can't understand why I would do such a thing or thinks the use of multiple prompts is akin to setting my neighbor's house on fire or strolling down the street naked with a strip of toilet paper clenched between my butt cheeks, perhaps consider that maybe this is a you problem. 

I have real problems to occupy me. I couldn't give a gnat's fart in a category five hurricane how many prompts someone who isn't me uses to accomplish their writing. 

Here's a tune that never goes out of style.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZH2bmbUTl4

A Sonnet for my Father

     

Genre: Poetry

Heat Level: Poetic

Blurb

Poetry; a unique and beautiful way to express feelings and ideas. Weaving words into perfect poetic prose, these authors remind you of your childhood, bring comfort from the hardships of life, fiercely spur emotions, and tell tales of old. All lovers of poetry will find a favorite here!

Featuring poetry by the following authors: John Grey, Kellee Kranendonk, J.E. Feldman, Debbie Hadow, Nina Padolf, Dibyasree Nandy, Brianna Witte, Nnadi Samuel, Rhiannon Bird, Sunayna Pal, Christopher R. Muscato, Vanessa Bane, Edward Cody Huddleston, Prathyush Devadas, Ed Ahern, and Cara Hartley.

Snippet

A Sonnet for my Father

Easter was a holiday you treasured,

I think dinner was your favorite part.

There was magic that remains unmeasured,

Muted even before you did depart.

Sometimes things we tend to take for granted

Are what we miss when they have gone away.

Hopefulness by longing supplanted

Sorrow fills emptiness upon this day.

In all my time I never will forget

The lessons you tried to impart to me.

I try not to live life filled with regret.

Sometimes tears are the only thing I see.

Thirteen years have passed since you flew away.

My heart is full of things I did not say.

For my father

May 31, 1936 – November 28, 2010

Buy Link

http://books2read.com/SoulInk1

The e-book is currently available for pre-order. It will be released on June 23, 2023.

Pre-Order Price $1.99

Notes

Look, y'all, I try not to do it, but this post is being linked in multiple blog hops. I just got through doing a major rewrite of a story to be included in the forthcoming Hot and Sticky anthology from Passionate Ink. Since my past submissions to anthologies have either been met with a "you're in" or a "no thanks," this experience was a little unsettling. I was told the story had good bones but lacked emotion. That's not what anyone wants to hear, is it?

I realized that my over-the-top reaction was connected more to experiences in my past than it was to my present circumstances. When I finished the rewrite, I felt like I had a better story. I don't really have time to create separate posts for multiple blog hops and this post works with three of them, so, here we are.

Ornery Owl is Outstanding in her Field

Free use image by Pexels on Pixabay

https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2023/05/join-us-for-charity-saturday-28-may.html

For every comment on this post, I will donate a dollar to the Lutheran medical center foundation in honor of my father. He died on November 28, 2010, in what was then Collier Hospice. It was still connected to the Lutheran medical center at the time. They just recently changed the name to Lutheran Hospice.

May 31 of this year would have been my father's 87th birthday.

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http://wewriwa.blogspot.com

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I tried to build author pages in the past but always ended up frustrated. With Pagimate, it's easy and even fun. It's also affordable. I purchased a lifetime membership for £179 ($202 USD). 

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First and Last Memories: WEP Challenge

I can't remember

the first time I saw your face

I was a squalling goblin

I remember well

the last time I saw your face

your earthly struggle finished

I recall winter

a time of painful beauty

you always loved the holidays

42 words

For my father

May 31, 1936

-

November 28, 2010

With love from your Ornery daughter

Image by Gustavo Belemmi from Pixabay

I'll always remember the Christmas when I was 10 years old as the best Christmas ever. Somehow, everything just came together as it should that year.

The father owl in the image has bright blue eyes. My father had blue eyes as well.

https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/2022/11/wep-december-2022-challenge-first-time.html

 notes

Major points only, I think. The work is kind of personal.

The poem is a Choka, a form of Japanese poetry used for storytelling. I chose a 5-7-7 pattern for the verses.

https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka/

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 29: A Quintet of Couplets

 

Image by SarahCulture from Pixabay

I

I feel just like a banyan buried in the snow

What the hell a banyan is I can't say I truly know

II

What kind of nightmarish choices will we have in the next election?

Someone with more brains than a turnip would be a good selection.

III

I wonder if I jinxed myself at some point in the past

So many wishes I wished on stars never came to pass.

IV

I wonder where my soul will go on the day my ashes scatter

Will I be off on a new adventure, or will it just not matter?

V

The letter in the envelope challenged me to choose between truth and dare

I put it aside for later, procrastinating without a care.

~Ornery Owl Has Coupled (or Coupleted)~

Image by Chiplanay on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/owl-bird-animal-hand-writing-5070039/

notes and prompts used

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-29

Prompt: 

Write a truth poem and/or write a dare poem.

You may have noticed the absence of a Day 28 poem. You are correct. The prompt for Day 28 was to write a remix poem. I save my remix poem for December 1.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/28/day-28/

The prompt asks participants to take the following list of words and turn them into titles.

BANYAN

TURNIP

JINX

SCATTER

ENVELOPE

Yeah--I deviated from the prompt.

"Titles?" scoffed I. "Pish! I shall use these words in my couplets!"

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/29/day-29/

Write some couplets.

Today's Playlist

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/the-ascent-the-warrens-blossom-hill-%281:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

C'mon, ya scrooges, let's get in the spirit of the season!

https://odysee.com/@Radioman:a/Y2Mate.is---Christmas-Music-From-Another-Room---Relaxing-Christmas-Ambience-with-Muffled-Christmas-Music-QeDzM6HKr5k-240p-1654936036014:b?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Yesterday was the 12th anniversary of my father's passing. He was always a big fan of celebrating the holidays. I hope there's music like this and plenty of cheer where he is now. 

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 9: Life Under the Three of Swords

 

Image by Melissa G from Pixabay

My late father sometimes reminded me of a day when we traveled to the Happy Jack recreation area. My family lived in Laramie at the time. My father was attending the University of Wyoming and was also earning his keep as a teacher’s assistant. My father told me that I stood up on a ridge and shouted to the wind, “I’m happy!”

I may have been happy. I honestly don’t remember the incident or the place. I can recall moments from that year, 1968. I remember some of the dreams I had. I seemed to be nothing but trouble for my mother. I was an overly curious child who was always getting into things.

My lifetime has been spent beneath the shadow of the Three of Swords. To put this in poetic terms, I’ve always been melancholy in varying degrees. If I were to choose poetry to describe my life, the first poem I’d select would be Alone by Edgar Allan Poe. I was reading Poe’s works at six years old and I related to this poem. I also loved The Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti. What would it be like, I wondered, to have a sister who was such a dear friend that she would put herself in danger to rescue me from the goblins who were draining me of my joy?

I did not have a sister. I had friends here and there, now and then, but they always left. I loved creating, but it wouldn’t be until later in life that I reconciled myself to the fact that my stories were my constant companions. I was not destined to have lasting friendships or find happy ever after romantic love.

To put it in clinical terms (alas, how very dull!) I have always lived with varying degrees of depression. I’ve been told I should medicate away the Three of Swords. Attempts at doing so failed spectacularly. The Tower fractured beneath me, plunging me into madness.

I can exist beneath the shadow of the Three of Swords. When the swords increase to nine or ten, atmospheric conditions present danger not only to happiness but to my very corporeal existence.

directionless me

spinning twilight I wander

without any guide

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

Some of us are destined to fly solo

prompts used

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2022/11/friday-writings-51-power-of-three.html

Prompt: The power of three. Any style, 369-word limit.

https://amanpan.blog/2022/11/08/moonwashed-musings-weekly-prompt-directionless-november-8-2022/

Prompt word: Directionless

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-9

For today's prompt, take the phrase "(blank) of the (blank)," replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.

I changed it up a little, as the title of the poem is Life Under the Three of Swords rather than, say Life Of the Three of Swords. I'm not submitting this one to the chapbook of 20 poems that won't be selected anyway. A long Haibun like this one is much to prose-y to be the right kind of rosy for a chapbook bouquet.

It may seem odd for me to request this, but past experiences dictate that I must. For the love of all that is holy and otherwise, do NOT give me advice about "changing my meds." I don't take psych meds, see "the tower fractured beneath me and I plunged into madness. Similarly, don't suggest that I seek out such meds. See "the tower fractured beneath me and I plunged into madness." 

Also, do not suggest that I "seek counseling." I've done so in the past and it hasn't done much for me. Plus I now live in the middle of nowhere and, yeah, I'm not driving a hundred-mile round trip for something that probably won't do me any favors, thanks anyway.

This is a prose poem, not a request for someone to come fix or rescue me. I'm not a damsel in distress, I'm a hideous swamp witch (okay, prairie witch) who writes poetry. If you can't be dark, dramatic, and hyperbolic in your poetry, I probably don't want to read your poetry. See Alone, by Poe, Edgar Allan. That's my kind of poem!

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46477/alone-56d2265f2667d

Maybe I should try to revive my poetry channel on Odysee. Or maybe I've already got too much on my plate. Eh, I'm rambling now.

I actually do know how to have fun. For instance, this collection of olde tyme Halloween-themed songs is my bag.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@thymeandplace:9/vintagehalloween1:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2022 Day 2: Sweet Sugar Skulls

 

Image by Maria from Pixabay

skulls made of sugar

to honor those who have passed

will you remember?

Image by Schmidsi from Pixabay

Ornery Owl remembers those who have gone before with love.

The 28th of November marks the 12th anniversary of my father's passing.

Notes and Prompts Used

https://dversepoets.com/2022/11/01/poetics-dia-de-los-muertos/

I deviated from the prompt, which asked for a commemoration of a loved one who has passed. I did not focus on any specific person, but on the intent of Dia De Muertos. 

My artist friend Kamidiox. a native of Mexico City, says that the proper term is Dia De Muertos, not Dia De Los Muertos. The term "Dia De Los Muertos" is one of her pet peeves.

Kami created the following picture of my best friend Lafayette walking over the Rainbow Bridge with the beloved character who was his namesake.

You can commission Kami at the following link. Her rates are very reasonable.

https://kamidiox.carrd.co/

You can read a little about Lafayette and the charity I donated to in his honor here:

https://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2022/10/charity-sunday-black-cat-holistic.html

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-2

Today's prompt asked participants to write a "sweet" poem.

I use Pixlr.com to design all my logos and banners. I find it much more pleasant to use than Photoshop. Plus, I'd rather not support a company that charges an arm and a leg and screws people who bought their older software in good faith. 

30 Days of Haiga 2022: For David

 

text

ending an era

the spark has gone from his eyes

to where does it fly?

notes

With the passing of my ex-father-in-law last night, my son now only has one grandparent: my mother. 

My ex-father-in-law had developed dementia, something he always hoped wouldn't happen. My ex-husband and his live-in helper were discussing the possibility of putting "Scooby" in long-term care because his state of health had declined so sharply that they could no longer adequately provide for his needs by themselves. 

My ex-father-in-law was a retired engineer and there was nothing he loved more than doing puzzles. Sorry, but those clickbait "articles" proclaiming that one can stave off dementia give false hope and make me angry. This man was probably smarter than all of us reading this post combined. He still wound up with dementia.

If you'd like to read more of my rant about awful clickbait proclaiming magical cures that don't exist plus ways to support real research that does exist, follow the link.

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2022/09/charity-sunday-fisher-center-for.html

I didn't have an especially close relationship with my ex-father-in-law but there was no bad blood between us. There is none between my ex-husband and me either. After our divorce in 1994, we repaired our friendship, which I think helped make my son's childhood a little more stable if sometimes chaotic because of bouncing from house to house during the week courtesy of my crazy work schedule.

So, yes, it's the end of an era. The death of my ex-father-in-law wasn't unexpected, and in many ways, it was a mercy. As Glen Campbell's widow said regarding dementia, it's better to die some other way. Still, one can't help but be a little sad. At least I can't.

I used the six-sentence story prompt to inspire this Haiga and wrote a three-sentence story followed by a lot of explanation.

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2022/09/25/sundays-six-sentence-story-word-prompt-231/

Prompt word: Spark

I created the Haiga in Pixlr.com with a free-use image by Lê Nam on Pixabay.

https://pixabay.com/photos/light-streaks-spark-smoke-trails-6899357/

I selected this image because of its simplicity and because the light creates what looks like a face on the left side of the picture.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Erich Röthlisberger from Pixabay

The Reaper comes for us all at some point.

This Owl would be very honored to have such a fine memorial stone!

Hopefully, not for quite a while.

I still have poems to write, food experiments to make, and people to annoy!

Probably my favorite song ever about the Shadow who follows us through our entire lives, waiting for that certain moment that faces us all.

Also sharing with:

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/09/26/promote-yourself-monday-september-26-2022/

30 Days of Haiga 2022: Her Majesty

 

text

such a clever girl

she kept her heart to herself

as wise women do

21 April 1926 – 8 September 2022

notes

sketch of the Queen

https://pixabay.com/vectors/britain-british-elizabeth-halftone-1296168/

memorial banner

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/queen-elizabeth-queen-of-england-7441728/

I did not use any other prompts for this Haiga. I wanted to create a tribute to honor Queen Elizabeth II. I felt that the black and white illustration would work nicely with black text art, which I created using Pixlr.com. I also used decorative elements from Pixlr. 

To stave off accusations that my Senryu is flip, snarky, or a backhanded compliment, I assure you that my intent is none of the above. Because of the brevity of this poem form, I needed to distill my thoughts down to the most basic elements. As noted in Wikipedia, "Her cousin Margaret Rhodes described her as "a jolly little girl, but fundamentally sensible and well-behaved"."

I've always admired the Queen's thoughtful and level-headed approach to even the most difficult circumstances. I could never conduct myself in such a measured fashion. My blood runs much too hot. Although my public face is generally stoic and I don't tend to reveal much about myself, my stoicism has a bitter edge to it and when I do show emotion, I wear it all over the front of myself. 

Sometimes the Queen was accused of being emotionless or robotic. I never perceived her that way. In her position, it is imperative not to show weakness. She was always dignified, much more so than I ever could have been in her situation. I would not wish to be royalty.

Although I am not British, Her Majesty was a source of comfort to me. She was a benevolent constant presence in an uncertain world. I hope I have conveyed something of the respect I feel for her in my creation.

You are welcome to use the Haiga but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl and provide a link back to this blog.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Ornery Owl wears her crown of flowers to honor Queen Elizabeth II

Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

Charity Sunday: Adams County Animal Shelter

 

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

For this Charity Sunday, I am going to send items to the Adams County Animal Shelter for their Smitten for Kittens drive. 

https://animalshelter.adcogov.org/smitten-kittens-donation-shower

The shelter is not currently set up to take monetary donations, so I will purchase items through Amazon. Thus, if I receive 5 comments I will send at least $5 worth of items. I hope that makes sense.

Here is the shelter's Amazon wish list.

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/3V00TS9TWBFL1/ref=hz_ls_biz_ex

This donation is being made in honor of Lafayette, one of the best friends I've ever had in this crappy and stupid world.

The above image is the property of Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl/Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld. You are welcome to use the image respectfully as long as you credit one of the above. 

I shouldn't have to say this, but because the world is filled with shitty assholes, I am going to tell you all that I have no patience for the kind of person who, upon seeing this photo, says something nasty about my body or sanctimoniously declares that they don't like tattoos. I really don't give a fuck what you think about my body or whether you like tattoos. If you can't say something nice, fuck off elsewhere. Like into the sun, for example. The need to be hateful or behave in a holier-than-thou fashion says worse things about you than it does about me.

I adopted Lafayette and Tara from the Adams County Animal Shelter in March 2010. They had both been in their kennels at the shelter for most of their lives. Tara was six months old. Lafayette was 8 months old and absolutely wild. He kept tapping at me. He was completely agoraphobic when I first brought him home and hid under the printer table until nighttime. When I went to sleep, he came out and shredded my arm. It wasn't out of malice. He wanted to play. I had the vet trim his claws, and he learned how to play with soft paws quickly.

Those of you who have been with me a while may recall Tara from her post-surgery pictures when she had a benign tumor removed from her forehead. She looked like a juvenile Skeksis. 

https://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2021/05/charity-sunday-help-with-taras-medical.html

Tara is doing well overall. Following the chemotherapy treatments, the fur that was shaved off to do ultrasounds of her abdomen grew back a lighter color. 

Tara and Lafayette were either half-siblings or cousins. They were from the same feral colony. They shared the condition of feline stomatitis, which required the removal of most of their teeth. Both of them were quite inbred and had multiple health problems. Lafayette had multiple system failure and had to be put to sleep on his sixth birthday, 17 July 2015. My heart broke into a million pieces on that day and has never mended.

I originally posted the following poem on this blog on 12 November 2020. It honors Lafayette and Trinity, who didn't get along very well. They were jealous of each other. However, they both got along with the brothers Leon and Raymond (both gone now as well) who served as a buffer between them. 

Trinity died on 4 November 2016 from brain and lung cancer. As that was the same day that Donald tRump was elected, it is quite simply one of the shittiest days in history.

The poem also appears in my third poetry volume, December Mood. If you are smart enough to subscribe to my epic newsletter today, you will eventually receive a link to a free ARC of this epic collection. (Honestly, I'm still working on getting the new and better Naughty Netherworld News set up.)

https://bit.ly/NaughtyNetherworldNews2

If there is some crazy reason that you don't want to receive a thrilling gift in your inbox every month, you can purchase the poetry volume from Amazon or borrow it via Kindle Unlimited.

https://amzn.to/3JVAKWv

Every day I think of you

I remember what good friends you were to me

If you were the color of your spirit set free

I’m wondering what you would be

Lafayette, would this be you?

Did you become something like this when you rose away?

I thought that there would be more time to say

How much I love you every day

 Trinity, my colorful girl

With your beautiful, expressive eyes

Would I recognize your new disguise?

If only I could be that wise

I walk through the darkness of my dreams

With eyes closed fast, not wanting to see

The hopelessness surrounding me

Knowing what I wish can never be

~cie~

Acknowledgments

Picture 1: A Haiga created by me. Please credit Cara Hartley/The Real Cie

Picture 2: Beautiful You Are by Magic Love Crow

 https://magiclovecrow.blogspot.com/

Picture 3: Delightful Donkey by Gina Morley

https://daydreambeliever-gina.blogspot.com/

Picture 4: Carnival Dreams by Shelle Kennedy

http://sunshineshelles.blogspot.com/

This post was created using these prompts:

 November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt for 11 November 2020 (write a color poem.)

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-11

Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #45

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/11/weekly-scribblings-45-artistic.html

This poem was posted to these places:

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

 

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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