Tag: NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 13

On By WinstonIn Enlightenment, Loving Life, my blessed life, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Personal, Poetry, ValuesLeave a comment

I’ve been dreaming of having the money and time to travel where I want and spend my time as I please. This poem reflects what I see in those dreams. Enjoy!

Where Do You See Yourself?

There’s so much beauty to be found,

At place where land meets sky.

Horizons call and beckon me,

To where the seabirds cry.

Or maybe find a mountain peak,

With valleys deep and green.

To wake and greet a brand new day,

Somewhere I’ve never been.

The sounds of surf upon a coast,

The soft cry of a loon.

Great rushing winds of summer storms,

Soft silver light from moon.

I sit and watch the dazzling sun,

Dance ‘cross a peaceful lake.

While listening to the insect drone,

And perfect mem’ries make.

To find the peace which nature brings,

Such joy it brings to me.

They fill the corners of my soul.

Each wonder that I see.

They may be grand or tiny things,

Each precious in it’s way.

A bloom, a bird, an ocean vast,

Each has something to say.

I will experience each one,

As many as there’s time.

And listen to the whisp’ring world,

Bask in this joy sublime.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 12

On By WinstonIn COVID 19, NaPoWriMo, Pandemic, Personal, Personal Responsibility, Poetry, Science, Society, Uncategorized, Values2 Comments

I am well aware that not everyone will agree with today’s poem and that’s okay. This post reflects my views on the current situation. Thank you for keeping any comments polite, respectful and brief.

COVID 19

This virus, such a tiny thing,

How quick, how far it spread.

Around the globe in just a year,

There’s near three million dead.

“It’s not so bad.”, some folks maintain,

“It’s no worse than the flu.”

At least until someone who died,

Is someone close to you.

They can’t conceive or won’t believe,

Why everything must stop.

And every step that we can take,

We must ’til cases drop.

Now wear your mask and wash you hands,

And stay home that’s the plan.

Now close the restaurants and bars,

Close any stores you can.

There’s no cabal with some grand plan,

To strip your rights from you.

The powerful elites don’t care,

‘Bout little fish like you.

Your “rights” aren’t more important than,

All those who’ve yet to die.

Unless you’re one who’ll tell me that,

This all has been a lie.

I beg you don’t say this to me,

I’ve heard it all before.

And I’ve no wish to go around,

Go ’round and ’round once more.

This virus, such a tiny thing,

Makes such a huge divide.

Some swear our fear has made us blind,

Some work to stem the tide.

I’ve diabetes, heart disease,

Health issues by the score.

Up until now my Docs have worked,

To keep me from Death’s door.

So I’ll rely on their advice,

To get me through these times.

And pass the lockdown as I do,

Composing little rhymes.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 11

On By WinstonIn Drawing, Loving Life, My Art, my blessed life, NaPoWriMo, Personal, Personal Creativity Project,, Poetry, Sketches, UncategorizedLeave a comment

As you may have seen in previous posts here, I also enjoy drawing. I had really stepped back from it for while when my daughter was young and I was busier doing Dad stuff. She is out in the world now and I have started re-investing my time in visual art. I’m never going to be a great artist, but it brings me great joy. That’s really what I missed.

Recaptured Joy

I loved to sketch, to draw or paint,

Although I was no pro.

A life I got then, as one does,

And chose to let it go,

Oh sure I doodled now and then,

But less as time went by.

And as old skills from mem’ry slipped,

Was less inclined to try.

But then at length I realized,

What giving up had cost

So I set out once more to find,

That joy which had been lost.

Once more I pick my pencil up,

Resume old exercise.

Draw basic shapes five hundred times,

Each one a different size.

Here I now sit and set to page,

What’s seen in my mind’s eye.

Though I’m not back where once I was,

At least I’m going to try,

I study and I practice now,

I draw all kinds of things.

But haunted by my past I won’t,

Draw unicorns with wings.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 10

On By WinstonIn NaPoWriMo, Personal, Poetry, Uncategorized, writer`s blockLeave a comment

For myself typically the problem isn’t finding words. Words I’ve got in abundance! The problem is finding words that I can force into some form of narrative. That’s where the tricky bits are, and that’s the subject of today’s poem.

So Many Words, So Little Focus

I feel the words rush through my mind,

In search of some release.

I try to shift them to the page,

Find for myself some peace.

But any peace is too short-lived,

For always there are more.

A jumbled, meaningless tumult,

An endless, numbing roar.

I catch a few, a sentence make,

From there a couplet spin.

They are too few the words I free,

To calm the storm within.

Now once again, the chaos comes,

I give myself to it.

I dance within the whirling gyre,

Though here I plainly sit.

I clutch and grasp and wrestle with,

The words within my mind.

And when at last I dare to look,

A finished verse I find.

And briefly then I know such peace,

Before it starts again.

The words return, they rush and roar,

And fill up my whole brain.

And so it goes, the wheel turns,

The cycle starts anew.

To write until the storm abates,

Is all that I can do.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 09

On By WinstonIn Enlightenment, Global Issues, Media, NaPoWriMo, Personal, Personal Responsibility, Poetry, Society, Technology, ValuesLeave a comment

A lot of ink, both physical and digital has been devoted to the evils personal tech devices of late. I’m more a proponent of balance than banishment. Make better choices. That’s what I’m striving for.

What Is Light Without The Dark?

The constant light, is always there,

It seeps in through the seams.

There’s nowhere that I’m free of it,

Even my darkest dreams.

Light finds me there, and sears my eyes,

I beg for some respite.

But there is none, it never fades,

Dim yet eternal light.

Five billion screens, each one aglow,

Dark never stood a chance.

Now day and night are just the same,

We’ve stilled the ancient dance.

And though our screens give constant light,

We see much less by far.

Than when our eyes looked up to seek,

The brightest, clearest star.

By giving all our time to this,

Thing there within our hand.

We’ve lost the will to look beyond,

And try to understand.

But don’t forget that screen is just,

A tool that we can use.

Don’t blame the thing, but blame the choice,

And then more wisely choose.

Now choose to close that screen sometimes,

Enveloped in the night.

For darkness is essential to,

Appreciate the light.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 8

On By WinstonIn Loving Life, my blessed life, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Personal, Poetry, spring, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Since April is National Poetry Month, I try to do at least one spring themed entry per year. Here in Canada, winters are cold and long and spring is much anticipated. It is probably my favourite season.

For Love of Spring

To watch the swelling of a bud,

Then watch the leaf unfold.

The wonder of a world reborn,

From winter’s deadly cold.

The piping of returning birds,

Geese calling overhead.

With crocus blooms a welcome splash,

Of colour in their bed.

The days grow warm but no too hot,

The nights are still quite chill.

I love the spring, I always have,

And prob’ly always will.

I watch the swelling of a bud,

The bloom which opens there,

It’s beauty overcomes my heart,

All I can do is stare.

For spring is come, at last arrived,

All dormant things awake.

To stretch and seek this vernal sun,

All beauty now to make.

And I, eyes filled with wonder walk,

See wonders everywhere.

It’s spring and beauty fills my world,

With light and joy so rare.

So bring the sun, then bring the rains,

Wash winter’s signs away.

Then paint the world in brighter shades,

I’m loving life today!

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 7

On By WinstonIn Enlightenment, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Don’t Fight the Dark

I see a light through fog and dark,

To it I turn my eye.

A beacon and a guide I see,

As shifting shadows fly.

Lost have I been within the dark,

How long I cannot say.

I pray this glint, this gleam may lead,

Once more to light of day.

It starts to fade, I thrust myself,

Through cloying ebon mist.

In desperation lashing out,

With elbow and with fist.

But as I fight, it fades still more,

Withdraws with every blow.

Some lesson here within the dark,

But what I do not know.

I rage and fight and try to force,

My way to where it waits.

I curse the dark, the names of Gods,

And rail ‘gainst the Fates.

The harder that I fight the dark,

The more the light withdraws.

I fight against my weary mind,

To understand the cause.

As my strength fades, my blows become,

Less fearsome over time.

And as I fail, the light at last,

Becomes a glow sublime.

Then as I pass beyond this world,

This truth at last I see.

You cannot take by force of arms,

What you received for free.

So in the end, we must accept,

An end to all our strife.

Go gently then into the light,

To find what’s after life.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 6

On By WinstonIn Dark / Gothic, Fantasy, Ghost Stories, Macabre, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Now for something completely different!

Sometimes, I just start writing with no real idea of where it’s going or what the narrative is going to be. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes, like this time for example, it takes itself in some truly unforseen directions.

The Ghost Writer

I swore that I would never write,

Again about some ghost.

But there she is and here am I,

Set to compose this post.

You see the spirits know me well,

For some tales I have told.

Find here a sympathetic voice,

For secrets which they hold.

Now those who can will seek me out,

Who cannot send me word.

Some medium or psychic calls,

For one who would be heard.

A young girl sits before me now,

A soft and misty shade.

She gazes at the floor and tugs,

Her faint, translucent braid.

“How can I help?” I ask at length,

Expecting no reply.

“You cannot help for I am dead.”

Her words soft as a sigh.

“Indeed you are, I must agree,

But still you sought me out.”

“To travel here’s no easy thing,

And cost you dear no doubt.”

From out the corner of her eye,

I see her glance at me.

“What would you know of what it cost?

I’ve paid no ticket fee.”

“Your trainfare’s not the price I mean,

a fact you know quite well.”

“For once you leave your place on earth,

You’re one short step from Hell.”

She looks up now and meets my eye,

A sharp and piercing look.

“You are the one. You did not learn,

That fact from any book.”

“There is a book on yonder shelf,

Just left of where you sit.”

“It’s boring true, but truth contains,

If you but dig a bit.”

She glances at the book and smiles,

Then back to me again.

“I see your name upon the spine,

It comes form your own pen.”

“I did not say I did not write,

The truth within that book.”

“But only that you’d find it there,

If you but chose to look.”

Quite suddenly her face is there,

Mere inches from my own.

The malice flows from her in waves,

It chills me to the bone.

“How came you by this knowledge rare?”

“Think well before you speak.”

“For I am not some simple haunt,”

“Some tired thing and weak.”

I meet her gaze, pick up my glass,

Of whiskey take a sip.

I know her then some guardian,

Whom I once gave the slip.

“You’ve got it wrong oh little spawn.”

“You’ve got no claim on me.”

“Your boss is just upset he lost,”

“A little bet you see.”

Black tendrils stream from tattered frock,

Skin black and peeling flakes.

Her hair a mass of roiling smoke,

With eyes like fiery lakes.

The tendrils now coil round my limbs,

Clawed hands on throat so tight.

“Once body’s dead your soul is mine,”

“You’re coming back tonight.”

I feel them come, the ragged souls,

The spirits I have saved.

By coming now to face it’s wrath,

What perils they have braved.

Not one of them is anywhere,

So strong as what they face.

But they are many it is one,

This hoard my secret ace.

The hands upon my throat grow weak,

A gesture stills the throng.

“You thought to take me back with you.”

“See now you were so wrong.”

“A message now I give to you,”

“To take in place of me.”

“Keep what is yours, leave me to mine,”

“Or war there’ll surely be.”

Dark angel gone, my host withdraw,

Once more alone am I.

I sip my whiskey in the dusk,

And write this verse and sigh.

The spirits that I help are those,

With nowhere else to be.

I once was there, where they are now,

Then someone rescued me.

Now those unworthy and unloved,

I do my best to aid.

With kindness, patience and some love,

Help them feel less afraid.

Not gods nor devils cared for them,

Until I freed them all.

Now both sides claim them for their own,

Demand I heed their call.

My spirits are the common folk,

And common lives they’ve had.

Though good folk not so saintly and,

Though sinners not so bad.

Not good enough for heaven nor,

The type to go to hell.

The gods and devils left them here,

Forgot them for a spell.

And then one day a magus died,

Who’d planned it out ahead.

To answer questions but he had,

No plans for staying dead.

He dodged the devils and the gods,

But couldn’t quite get home.

And spent three hundred years stuck in,

A cave outside of Rome.

Then one fine day, someone came by,

Sweet as the morning dew.

They did the work and raised me up,

To start my life anew.

So now I save my stranded flock,

Free them as I was freed.

Free them from devils and from gods,

From their unending need.

And now and then an angel or,

A devil will stop by.

To take me off to my “reward”,

At least that’s what they try.

But those I’ve helped still have my back,

And I have theirs the same.

We are the only home we want,

And Legion is our name.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 2

On By WinstonIn Enlightenment, family, Friendship, Loving Life, my blessed life, NaPoWriMo, Personal, Poetry, ValuesLeave a comment

My friend Jen turns fifty-five today. We’ve been friends for twenty years now… but that’s nothing. I met her through my wife who has been friends with her for fifty years! All of that made today seem like a great day to celebrate that friendship.

That One Friend

I wish that everyone could have,

A friend as true as you.

The world would be a better place,

Because of what they’d do.

A friend who’d always lift them up,

Who never put them down.

The one who’d love to see their smile,

Who’d understand their frown.

That friend who’s up for anything,

Who makes that thing more fun.

And down the road looks back and laughs,

At crazy things they’ve done.

You always put another first,

And think of yourself last.

Then brush off any thanks or praise,

Embarrassed ’til it’s past.

You love to share and talk and laugh,

It brightens any day.

You’re interested in everyone.

I guess you’re born that way.

So thanks my friend for being part,

Of our lives all these years.

You’ve shared our triumphs and defeats,

Our laughter and our tears.

Your friendship is the greatest gift,

A blessing through and through.

It’s true our lives are brighter far,

My friend because of you!

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 1

On By WinstonIn NaPoWriMo, Personal, Poetry, writer`s blockLeave a comment

It is April 1st once again and so begins National Poetry Writing Month. Last year, I finished a couple of poems away from the 30 verse target. Hopefully this year I can go all the way. Time will tell.

Without further ado… today’s offering.

A Most Poetic Death

“Good morning”, said the typist to,

The keyboard where he sat.

“I’m hoping we’ll get on this year,

Despite last April’s spat.”

The keyboard for it’s part said naught,

For keyboard’s cannot talk,

The typist sits there nervously,

Then gets up for a walk.

Returning, sitting, fingers placed,

He fumbles for some words.

But what appears on snowy page,

Are horrid, verbal turds.

He cannot write, he’s lost the knack,

So backs away again.

Perhaps the keyboard is the block,

Now searches for a pen.

It’s not the keyboard nor the pen,

He knows this from the start.

The problem is the emptiness,

Where verse lived in his heart.

He used to love the play of words,

The rhythm, shape and flow.

Has sacrificed that love for craft,

Too blind to see it go.

The typist sits, his fingers range,

And roam across the keys.

Tears form and trickle down his face,

As each weak verse he sees.

If craft lives now where once dwelt love,

Then craft must be a muse.

The poet dead, mere typist now,

A shell for craft to use.

Cheers, Winston