NaPoWriMo: Days 23 – 30 & Wrap-Up

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Photo by Katherine Hanlon on Unsplash

April is finally over! I’m happy to say that I completed all 30 days of National Poetry Writing Month. Some of the poems aren’t good and some are rather intense, but I found the process very helpful in two ways:

First, it made me feel more comfortable with sharing my unfinished, shitty writings with complete strangers. I’m trying to not judge myself so harshly, because when I do, it makes it harder for me to edit, write, and submit anything. Embracing the imperfect is quite the challenge; some days it feels so liberating, while other days I find myself full of self-resentment for sharing stuff I think is bad. NaPoWriMo’s daily challenges and my busy schedule meant that if I did want to complete a poem in a day and share it, my work wasn’t going to be perfect.

Second, I found that I do have the time and discipline to write daily. It feels wonderful to meet my own expectations, particularly when I worry that those expectations can be too high.

Here are the last seven poems I wrote during the month of April. Maybe they’ll turn into polished pieces one day, maybe I’ll never look at them again. No matter what, they’ve been plucked from my heart and put onto paper:

April 23, 2018

“unpraised deity”

if he read this,
if he knew this was for him,
he’d call me a fool.

he is human.
aren’t we all?

but isn’t someone who creates new worlds a god?
does that make me a goddess?
he and i shall meet on mount olympus one day.

April 24, 2018

“where does memory live in your body?”

this morning i woke to a sharp pain in my ankle for the first time in months
with spring rain comes the pain and the flashbacks and the hot showers
these memories are thick/stunt my circulation
my foot puffs up, saturated little reminder
of what you did

April 25, 2018

“recurring dream characters”

we are all passengers on the speeding bullet
silver bullet/we are so tired yet
we have no need for sleep or food or needs
but we have wants/cravings/thirst
we have yet to reach our stop
we have been on this train for years, we think
we thought we saw some new scenery tonight
but it was just a smudge on the window

April 26, 2018

“matryoshka doll”

i tense and flinch, you hit and miss i tense and flinch, you hit and i tense and flinch, you and i tense and flinch, i tense and i tense i – i – i

April 27, 2018

“something sacred”

drum rhythm bass babes
drunk/pizza/let’s make weird shit
youtube distractions
will we finish that album?
who fucking cares about that?

April 28, 2018

“apocalypse”

everything smells like cheap nail polish.
broken hangnail trees have seeds,
and these seeds make daughters
that grow hearty from our
nutrient-rich blood and bones.

these trees take on strange shapes,
like dancing children.
these trees have strange roots:
vivisection reveals the outline of a man,
resigned to his fate.

April 29, 2018

“sun on skin”

unhealthy cravings and a cold breeze
i ignore my cough because i need this warmth to last
fleeting winter-spring

April 30, 2018

“instructions for opening the heart:”

tender, slowly,
but with enough surprise
to leave a lasting impression.

words of kindness and
glances that last a bit too long.

stand close enough to me
that my heart can connect
to your heart’s signal.

One comment

  1. I had similar thoughts after finishing my first NaPoWriMo challenge. Especially can relate to this: “It made me feel more comfortable with sharing my unfinished, shitty writings with complete strangers.” Great work!

    Liked by 1 person

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