Nostalgia

Day 17 NaPoWriMo 2020

 

Pager

Beeper
quaintly chirps up
asynchronous trumpet
of new arrival. Synchrony
prevails.

Fountain Pen

Shapely
nib in ink pot,
dip in indigo blue,
fountain pen gushes out words on
paper.

 

Notes:  Day 17 of NaPoWriMo 2020.  Today’s prompt:

Our prompt for the day (optional, as always), asks you to move backwards in time away from such modern contrivances as podcasts. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that features forgotten technology. Maybe it’s a VCR, or a rotary phone. A cassette player or even a radio. If you’re looking for a potential example, check out this poem by Adam Clay, which takes its central metaphor from something that used to stoke fear in the hearts of kids typing term papers, or just trying to play a game of Oregon Trail.

Wrote two cinquains, one on beeper, which I used to carry up until early ‘00s.  And another on fountain pen, which I haven’t used since the 90s.

Here’s a valediction ghazal, from a similar prompt back in 2013: Paper, A Valediction.

Even for an hour

Day 6 of NaPoWriMo 2020

(Photo by Aashish Vaidya. Cherry Blossoms)

 

Even for an hour

 

“Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because”
Every corner of the world, I’ll scour because

 

Little squares of anguish wash over me, even
for a moment I see your face sour, because

 

Remember – to err is human to forgive divine
Next time your mood’s dour, because

 

Sycophants and bootlickers stroke bully’s
ego. Without dignity they cower, because?

 

Sitting, staring at the screen, whole day without
Moving.  Now spin hard with power, because

 

The only little people are those who enrich themselves
A tiny human act towers over power, because

 

Tossed salad of kale, pine nuts, feta, red onion,
Olive oil, lemon juice, roasted cauliflower, because

 

What lulls us into thinking all this isn’t fleeting?
We nurture this ‘Mirage’ of sunflower, because….

 

Notes:  Penned an off-prompt ghazal, as ran short of time to explore Day 6 of NaPoWriMo 2020.  The prompt was to “write a poem from the point of view of one person/animal/thing from Hieronymous Bosch’s famous (and famously bizarre) triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights.”  Will have to revisit it some other time.

 

First line is a line from of Pablo Neruda’s Love Sonnet: XLV from his volume 100 Love Sonnets translated by Stephen Tapscott.  I liked this line, and I am hoping the reader does as well. That line propelled the rest of the ghazal, with some open-ended couplets because (ha,ha) of the refrain.