Today's poem is a blackout poem! I love blackout poetry. I followed the prompt from this NaPoWriMo site.
In Pursuit of Love
By Candace Shultz
An enthusiastic flower
Feelings of exultation
Oh joy!
The lover seen
A purpose new
Both eyes intent
In pursuit to nothing else.
To make my blackout poem, I used page 21 in the book Our Bird Comrades by Leander Keyser found on this website.
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For today's poem, I followed the prompt posted on the NaPoWriMo site to write about grief using Geoffrey Brock's poem, “Goodbye,” as inspiration. Here is my poem.
Tears of Regret
By Candace Shultz
You were sick,
And I didn't know.
Death knocked on your door,
And you followed him home.
Were you alone? I don't know.
I wasn't there to say goodbye.
Were you alone? I hope love
Surrounded you in the end.
You were a whisper in the wind
That I tried so hard to hear, but now
A heavy silence weighs on my heart,
And I drown in a pool of tears.
I Love You
By Candace Shultz
I love you.
Look into the mirror
Of my heart. It reflects a
Vision of you as seen through my
Eyes - my heart's desire, my better half.
You are my world, and no
Other person could complete me
Until I met you. With you, I am whole.
For today's poem, I followed the challenge to use a phrase repeatedly while contradicting or inverting that phrase.
It isn't an Empty Page
By Candace Shultz
It isn't an empty page.
It's a white glare in my face
Mocking me for having no words
To form into a resemblance of a poem.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a blank slate ready for new ideas,
No longer a void, but a place
To express thoughts and find meaning.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a cat sharpening its claws,
Getting ready for the hunt
To bring home the prize.
It isn't an empty page.
It's a person stretching their legs,
Getting ready to run a mile,
Knowing they will reach the finish line.
It isn't an empty page.
It was a beginning not yet begun,
Now an ending finally achieved.
It's a poem written by me.
For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo, I followed a prompt to write a poem similar to a song from a clapping game. My poem is inspired by the song "Miss Mary Mack," which I used to clap to with friends when I was a kid.
I Saw a Cat
By Candace Shultz
I saw a cat, cat, cat
That was all black, black, black
With a tiny spider, spider, spider
Crawling on her back, back, back.
She felt a tickle, tickle, tickle
Within her fur, fur, fur
So she licked the spider, spider, spider
And began to purr, purr, purr.
The spider was scared, scared, scared
When it was snared, snared, snared
Inside the mouth of the cat, cat, cat.
The spider had erred, erred, erred.
Today's poem is inspired by a prompt to use a casual, conversational tone with at least one thing that would happen in a dream. A cat speaking in human words counts as something that would happen in a dream, right?
Cat Greetings
By Candace Shultz
I open the door
and the first thing I see
is my cat sitting on the stairs
greeting me. "Welcome home!"
she says to me. "Hello kitty.
Were you waiting for me?"
I scratch her on the ears
and she trails behind me
like a shadow attached to my feet,
talking to me the entire time
while I set down my purse,
my water bottle, my phone.
I walk towards the bathroom,
and I close the door behind me,
and she reaches under the door
with her little paws, crying out
"Mom!" like a toddler child
who can't bear to be apart
from her mom for even a moment.
When I leave the bathroom,
she runs around me excitedly
until I finally settle in the rocker
in the living room, and then she
curls in a ball in my lap, cuddling me
as I rock us gently back and forth,
and the house becomes quiet
as we both close our eyes,
letting the gentle sway of the rocker
lead us into a slumber of dreams.
For Day 5 of NaPoWriMo, I followed a prompt to write about something I dislike, and to be over dramatic if I want. So I decided to write about canned spinach, which I really dislike. Seriously, why change a perfectly good fresh spinach leaf into a canned, stringy, slimy, unrecognizable leaf? Here is my poem:
Canned Spinach
By Candace Shultz
I hate canned spinach.
It has ruined the color green
With its slimy taste and texture
And unappealing appearance.
I believe it is an unknown substance,
So bitter and gross that it makes
Me want to vomit in my mouth,
Which makes it that much worse to eat.
If you put some slimy spinach on my plate,
My blood will boil and the spinach will fly,
And I will watch as it trails down your face
Like a snail secreting mucus as it slides.
* Author's note: I wouldn't truly throw canned spinach at someone, but I definitely won't eat it (I've already eaten it before a few times. I never want to eat it again.).
