Poem based on a line by Sylvia Plath

Sugar can cure everything, so
Kindness says. Sugar is a necessary fluid,
Its crystals a little poultice.
So delicate is sugar to the touch.
Grainy as they slip through fingers.
Sugar is happiness on child’s face
As they are given sweet desserts eat.
Sugar is everywhere we go
It’s tiny crystals penetrating every space.

April 8th prompt from this site http://www.napowrimo.net/

My Eccentric Great-Great Aunt

I had a great-great aunt named Phyllis
Who was really sweet, odd and eccentric
She was my grandpa’s father’s sister
She was always late to events
Had my family wait outside the door one time
For she was not ready with the food
She got half of it done
Cause she forgot to cook the pasta
So they all sat around just eating pasta sauce
Was always dramatic with her speaking to everyone
She even had a husband who was odd too
Took twenty years to get married
She wanted to elope cause she thought it would be romantic
She was about in her forties when she did this
She was pretty, fluttery and wore outlandish clothing
She would mail the Christmas presents late
To my mom and relatives when they were young
That is my eccentric relative
Which would have been neat to meet

April 8th Prompt: If you have not yet written a poem about your most eccentric relative, write it now. If you have written that poem, write one about your meekest, comminest, or simplest relative.

Let Me Out! Let Me Out!

Someone is saying, “Let me out! Let me out!”
Where is it coming from?
Are they in distress?
Sounds like a woman’s voice the pitch is high.

Someone is saying, “Let me out! Let me out!”
They keep saying it over and again.
Are they in trouble?
I am calling the police now.

Someone is saying “Let me out! Let me out!
Police arrive to investigate
Told the owner what was reported
Owner turns his parrot
And says, “this is the one that let me out! let me out!”

This is from the article about “Police Responding To Distress Call Just See Parrot Screaming ‘Let Me Out!'”

April 7th prompt from this site http://www.napowrimo.net/

Saturday Morning Pancakes

I come down stairs to smell of pancakes
Mom in kitchen spooning out mixture
On hot griddle already laden with pancakes
They bubble a little soaking up mixture liquid
They begin to harden mom flips them
You can hear a sizzle escape from them
I sit down in kitchen to wait till they’re done
Mom lifts them off hot on to plate
Brings over a stack for me
I butter and let syrup flow out onto them
I cut first bit; into mouth I savor my bite
They are mom’s famous Saturday morning pancakes
Best when I was growing up as a child

April 7th Prompt: What was your favorite breakfast when you were a child? Write a poem about the food, the place you ate it, and who cooked it.

I am one of many

I am one of many
Flying from dark tunnel
Curve upward in sync
Flying through sphere
Cut with circular hole
Then weave upward
Towards wide circle
Which held by unique shapes
We fly through
Angle hard to left
We zig zag in sky
Out we go towards waters
Away from the happenings below
We don’t break;
We fly in unity
We fly away

A poem from the point of view of a person/animal/thing from Bosch’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights”

April 6th prompt from this site http://www.napowrimo.net/

My Affirmation Poem

Be creative in your hobbies
Open your imagination to anything
Write what love to write
Through stories, poems
And let the words just flow
You can always fix them later
Do anything you put your mind too
Don’t worry about what others think
Keep learning you will find the path
Something new is always around the corner
Just at the chance to take it now

April 6th Prompt: Write an affirmation poem as a list of statements you can affirm today, for yourself, to be true, supportive, and encouraging. For a model, look up Donald Hall’s poem “Affirmation.”

On A Sunny Day

My dog is a cloud that floats calmly in the sky.
But clouds taste like puffy marshmallows changing shape.
You see her come up to you her tail curled
As you finish your cool sweet refreshing drink
For she silently makes no noise for you to pet her
Her fur is silky to touch; her ears feel velvet
With a scent of coconut from recent bath rises up
As you bend down to breath her fur.
Her fur you hear vibrations with each stroke.
Near Handel’s Ice cream is where she is
Meeting a girl named Emily.
Clouds do not taste like marshmallows but they are puffy.
My dog might become a therapy dog some day.
Low key my dog will go to anyone.
Every time she see people she wants attention.
“Your dog is sweet and cute” I hear all time;
“But you don’t know she use to be a puppy mill dog.”
The charming Shiba dog of growth is what she has become
As I am upon the shores with no confidences.
I tried to tell my dog to lay down to wait for ice cream.
Bookworm waits patiently as dog is being petted.
My dog will pass her therapy classes with ease.
My harmonious dog just want to love everyone around her.
She is a social dog who wants be out in the world;
Mohaya ori no nakade wanai.
Wind sing their praises of my dog now free from puppy mill life.
Clouds drift calmly by on warm a summer day.

April 5th prompt from this site http://www.napowrimo.net/