Day Seven: Na/GloPoWriMo 2022

And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. They say that “all cats are black at midnight,” but really? Surely some of them remain striped. And maybe there is an ill wind that blows some good. Perhaps that wind just has some mild dyspepsia.  Whatever phrase you pick, I hope you have fun complicating its simplicity. Happy writing! https://www.napowrimo.net/day-seven-8/

So I haven’t been a participant yet in NaPoWriMo 2022 yet but I have been writing poetry everyday so inadvertently I have been on track….Anyhow, here’s to the optional prompt:

An apple a day keeps the doctor away
Poor Betsy

At five years old she got the flu
For little Betsy its nothing new
She got her first case of the mumps
With nasty, itchy, burning bumps
When she was seven, getting big
Her mama made her take a swig
of tonic that she made at night
to ward off all the germs and plight
She made it from an apple red
and gave it to Betsy in bed
But Betsy barfed and threw it up
Allergic to whats in the cup
And now at eight she’s sick again
Her mother wonders what is in
the stuff she keeps up on her shelf
right next to that dumb Christmas elf
If it has apple then she’ll know
to hospital Betsy will go
‘Cause her poor throat will close right up
from all that apple-made syrup.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

#AtoZChallenge 2022 – April 7, 2022

I signed up for this challenge although I had no idea what I would pick as a theme. I still don’t know. I found it here: http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

I wonder if I can make it up as I go…is that a theme? Random thoughts? Voila! Chosen!

Random Thoughts – ©2022 CBialczak

C – Catch Me

Catching raindrops from the sky
Catch a glimpse of birds who fly
Catch a ball that flies through air
Catch a breeze blown through your hair
Catch me looking straight at you
Catch you looking at me too

D – Possibilities

Did you ever wonder what it’d be like
to discover the oceans’ deepest caves?
to fly to the farthest star known to man?
to walk in the same roads your ancestors walked?
to run faster than the wind?
to see beauty in the ugliest of pictures?
to hear a whisper on a busy, city street?
to taste the richness of the Milky Way?
to be happy with who you are right now?
Did you ever wonder what is possible?

E – A Haiku

Enclosed within reach
Love for you will never fail
I am always here

F – Four

Frankie, Felicia, Fiona and Fred
found themselves in one small, double bed
Fiona was cramped up next to the wall
Fred found his feet had no room at all
Frankie was happy ’cause he had the most
Felicia was sweaty like good buttered toast
The four of them slept, they slept good and hard
No noise nor the cat could get anyone jarred
They slept in the morning ‘for the day got too hot
And they never complained ’bout the small spot they got.

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The rest of the alphabet!

A

As I sit and ponder
another day of writing
and think of all I have done
as far as writing is concerned
a thought comes to me
as clear as day
an idea I guess
a poem a day perhaps?

B

Below blue billowing balloons
bisque-ware bakes before being
bathed by brushes bearing bright
bronze backgrounds boasting
beautiful blurry bedlam
beneath bedazzled brilliance.

#Writephoto: Out to Sea

KL Caley is the host: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2022/04/07/writephoto-distance/

For visually challenged writersthe image shows an island across a stretch of water. Upon which you can see some ruins and a white lighthouse.

Some days are harder than others and today is a difficult one. I don’t know what triggers the hard days. I suppose I need this writing to clear my head. Thanks for reading.

Someday

For someday I may see you there
Standing in the open air
Not a figment not a phase
Just my son, the one I’d raised
For now I wait and cry instead
I can’t get sad out of my head
Some days are easy some are not
I try to be thankful for what I’ve got
It doesn’t seem fair to those who live
that I don’t have as much to give
a part of me was lost that night
When you were taken out of sight.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry