Category: Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology

Day 18 of NaPoWriMo! The challenge is a poem beginning and ending with the same word,

Suffering: Now Available in HD

Television news is distorted reality.
Zooming in on the negative.
Predicting human doom.
Polarizing arguments blaming groups.
No sensible debate behind the lies.
Quick snap judgements ruining lives.
Evading responsibility for facts.
Lifting the infamous to household names.
Tell me when was the last time,
That the news discovered
The beauty of the trees outside,
The gentle breathing of a sleeping lover,
The joy in a child’s eyes,
The calming ocean waves,
Or the sanctity of silence?
Joy is thinking outside that box.
Life begins when it’s turned off.
Free your mind from the tunnel vision,
Spoon fed daily in high definition,
Sponsored by your new television.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

Today’s prompt was to say hello, shalom, guten tag, bonjour, bonjourno, howdy!

Platitudes

Hello, alarm clock.
You seem to ring earlier.
May I please just sleep?

Good morning, sunshine.
You are up bright and early.
Forgive me for staring.

Hey there, traffic jam.
You winding pollution beast.
You’re always there for me.

Greetings, office chair.
My steady supporter.
I’ve put on a few pounds.

Bed, my dearest friend.
You may be showing your coils.
I am still in love.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

Today’s challenge is to “translate” a poem from a language you don’t know. I chose this Polish poem.

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Mistranslations

Just west of the minimall.
Seeking wisdom. I am a Jew.
Brownies burning in the oven.
Outside, a kiosk.
In the river, rowers from the nearest educational palace.
No one sponsors my journey.

Drowsy brothers. Shady behavior.
Police stopping: cyclists. Everywhere bad news.
Drowning in Zydeco jams.
Wafting naturally.
I am not a Gemini.

Ma never signs. No documents on wide paper.
Drinking ale and Prozac,
he tumbles skillfully downward,
for a minute. Why can’t mom kiss?
The polka is called “Titan.”
Seeking wisdom in the dojo.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

I think I failed miserably at rhyming this time, so it is not quite a pantun. And quatrains remind me of Nostradamus. But here goes, the prompt and the poem.

Today, I challenge you 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.

Heavenly Earthly Bodies

The wind was whipping at my face.
I slowly turned towards the ocean waves.
Sweet mother how I miss hearing your voice.
I need a long distance plan to fulfill my dreams.

I gaze unto the starry night above.
Contemplating the sparks of light in darkness.
Distant sons yet unborn reach out to me.
Whenever will I settle down into sweet monotony?

The sunset is so brave to disappear.
Sunset an ancient exercise in beauty.
As I reach my third life’s decade,
I witness my dad’s unstoppable age.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

Juicy little poetic honesty challenge from NaPoWriMo.net today! This promptcould swing to either love or hate, easily. I choose love. These are things hard to say aloud, but with poetry, it flows.

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.”

Basherti

My feet would follow you to the moon and back.
In my eyes, you can do no wrong.
In my heart, your words have power.
My hands long to make contact.
My mind is preoccupied by you.
My lips long for your kisses.
My body is only at peace when enveloped by you.
I admire your every deed.
I support you through every struggle.
I thank G-d each day that we met.
Although each day it seems impossible to love you more,
I fall deeper and deeper in love, my soulmate.
What a blessing! How undeserving I am!
To be married to a man as great as you.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

This poem was also recorded for the album Happy Accidents:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

Today’s prompt was to write a tanka.

Despair Casts its Ballot

Darkness has arrived
on special delivery
Encouraging thoughts
of abandoning my dreams
for sweet simplicity.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry

Today’s prompt is to write an unlove poem.

Silver Winged Predators

The hawk preys on pigeons innocent in belief and thirsty for adventure.
He encircles them with wings majestic hallowed by dark ominous clouds.
The pigeon enraptured, hypnotized, blinded….and swallowed.
But for the sole pigeon who in depths of darkness and despair cried out,
Pried open the clenched jaws of bitterness to fly free, refusing fate’s digestive goal.
Flying free from the snake’s venom, the cat’s razor blade claw, the kleptomaniac seagull,
And the hiss of starving emaciated ducks, the pigeon now soars far above ever strengthened.

 

 
© 2013 D.L. Lang

This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book:

Poems from the book Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology Poetry