Impolitic

Day 16 Of NaPoWriMo 2018.

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National pastime –
reality show with real
chumps – the citizens.

Constant noise barrage
of unhinged, so-called hefe.
There’s no place to hide.

What doesn’t break you
makes you stronger. Liars – it
makes you more insane.

Notes:
Distracted with other things, off prompt, and just enough to get three haikus done.

The prompt was:

In this vein, our (optional, as always) prompt for the day asks you to write a poem that prominently features the idea of play. It could be a poem about a sport or game, a poem about people who play (or are playing a game), or even a poem in the form of the rules for a sport or game that you’ve just made up (sort of like Calvinball).

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At Last

Day 8 Of NaPoWriMo 2018. 

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At the diner, on the jukebox, Etta James belts out ‘at last’
Let’s enjoy the burgers and fries and end our silly little bout, at last.

O fair apsara – Urvashi, I am Pururavas, the warrior, your rescuer
State your demands and I’ll agree and let our love sprout, at last.

The masters of the universe, the big boys of free market, the banksters
are made whole, only because of big government bailout, at last.

I remember, that the picnic in the meadow full of swinging wildflowers,
And where stole a kiss, despite your hesitation and doubt, at last.

My professed sentiments you must believe, they are real and not a ‘Mirage’,
Now let’s see that radiant smile breakout, through that sulky pout, at last.

Notes:
Off prompt again today, except from one mythological reference in couplet two, which references the mythology of Urvashi, an apsara (or a nymph) in Indra’s court and Puraravas, a mortal.

But, here is the prompt for today:

Let’s take a leaf from Shelley’s book, and write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Your poem could take the form of a spell, for example, or simply describe an event that can’t be understood literally. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange. Poetry is like that (at least when you’ve been reading Shelley!) If you’re in search of inspiration, maybe you’ll find it in this poem by Louis Untermeyer, or this one by Kathleen Graber.