NaPoWriMo: Day 30

An ending

Invisible lines crossed without fanfare,

another episode of my life is over.

Chapters, artificial constructs in my head without clear beginnings.

I have no idea when I started this path.

Milestones, just part of the imagination.

Passing them only adding trivia about my life. I feel no different.

No level up,

no sequel.

The results are intangible,

the narrative is vague.

There's no genre, rhyme or reason.

A cowboy/romance/sci fi/tradgedy/adventure/comedy/action epic without a title.

Changing all the time.

I finished my last ever uni assignment today. Plus the NaPoWriMo. Ending things is probably on my mind now.

NaPoWriMo: Day 29

Coffeecoffeecoffee

Not strong enough,
need liquid insomnia in my blood.

NaPoWriMo: Day 28

Notice

Due to scheduling conflicts.
My poem has been cancelled today (28.4.2010).
A replacement service is running on the NaPoWriMo website.
We apologise for any inconvenience caused.

NaPoWriMo: Day 27

We're not doing this for the fame


"If everything goes well, we'll waltz out rich men"
We know what to do, we know our jobs, we can do this.
The gun is deceptively heavy, hopefully it won't be used on anyone.
They go after you harder if someone dies and we're not doing this for the fame.

Self doubt crosses my mind, the reasons for doing this.
Attempts at justifying what I'm doing ring hollow.
I'm doing it for the money. I'm doing it for me.

NaPoWriMo: Day 26

Tweet.

A shout into the void in 140 characters or less. A occasional contraction around a topic before dispersing again to everyday normal lives.

Short one, not much time.

NaPoWriMo: Day 25

"Oh you like them too? My ex loved them."

Waking up, alcohol still in his system.

A night of picking hearts and breaking pockets.

The happiness of feeling the warmth of another beside him

tainted by a knowledge that it won't last.

Small talk made while picking up clothes from the bedroom floor.

They leave the flat and walk to the bus stop together.

A reluctant kiss as they part.

There won't be any future between them.

They both know they didn't swap numbers.

Sort of biographical, mostly not.

NaPoWriMo: Day 24

Rise of the Angels

Voiceless, patient,

creatures from another world.

You can't kill a stone,

but a stone can kill you.

If you blink.

Weeping angels,

the lonely assassins.

Send you to the past

and you live to death.

If you blink.

Dying afraid and alone

lights flickering

between horror and the dark.

Here they come.

Watched Doctor Who today. I love Steven Moffat.

NaPoWriMo: Day 23

Bread and circuses

Oratory and rhetoric in front of the populous.

Three leaders battling for their careers.

Sniping, teasing, searching for weakness in each other's defence.

Personalities, ideologies clashing.

All wanting the same thing:

Power

NaPoWriMo: Day 22

Sleeping again

Sleep returning colour to the soul. A rebirth.

Knots in the mind slipping free.

Tension and resistance leaving my bones.

Sleep, humanising sleep. Return me to the living.

I promise I'll write more tomorrow and it won't be about sleeping/not sleeping.

NaPoWriMo: Day 21

More short verse on a lack of sleep

headaches, a body refusing to to as the mind wants

stimulants in the veins sustaining consciousness

unable to rest just yet, so much to do

reactions slowed to a malaise

muscles, unsmooth and unfree

mind, fogged and unfocused

forgetting to eat, forgetting I've already ate

can't rest just yet

my work is not yet done

I'm going to have some sleep tonight, so you'll be spared any more poems about not sleeping. My insomnia trilogy will stay as it is.

NaPoWriMo: Day 20

Sleep deprivation make me drowsy

Am I a man or a metaphor?

An uneasy unsoberness shakes my senses.

The corner of my eye spots complex dances.

Lack of focus, lack of peace.

The worst prisons are the ones you can't see.

Wow, I think I've written 20 poems now. I saw the google streetview car today. At least I think I did.

NaPoWriMo: Day 19

Cyclic poem about falling asleep on a bus.

the bus lurches to a stop

the jolt wakes me

Too tired to help it

I had no sleep last night

paranoia grips me

and I check the windows

in case I've missed my stop

a town spiels by

everyday life, all familiar

but is it in the right direction?

finally recognition takes over

and I relax enough

to sleep again

NaPoWriMo: Day 18

Death by wordcount

A reckless chase

cursing time wasted

fuelled by coffee

and desperation

Got uni work to do, should have done it a lot sooner. Fuck.

NaPoWriMo: Day 17

It's too bad she won't live...

Robots and replicants asking questions about our own life.

What is it to be human? Why are we alive?

Robotic fictional characters experiencing more than anyone alive.

How long did Roy live?

"As long as they are remembered, they live on" is what we say of the dead.

Does that apply to the fictional? Even fictional robots?

Blade runner is on my mind as I rush to do this in time.

NaPoWriMo: Day 16

Blue skies

In the sky today there were no vapour trails.

The ground stopped them all.

Elemental forces hundreds of miles away,

a cataclysm of fire and ice.

But for all the volcanic fury and drama,

all it did to some was make a clear sky clearer.

Volcano in Iceland means that every flight in the UK was grounded. It didn't inconvenience me so I enjoyed the day looking at a vapourless sky.

NaPoWriMo: Day 15

Wires and Gears

A mini stereo with only one speaker working, dappled with stickers.

Bought for twenty five Euros, little more than wires and gears

Playing a cd bought when I didn't know better.

Songs of innocence and optimism in 4:4 time.

Old flatmates remembered, forgotten connections.

Conversations about pop-punk,

a brief nostalgia trip then the next track starts for another.

I had a mini nostalgia trip today playing a cd today. It's weird how certain albums can bring odd memories back. One example for me is "Punk in Drublic" by NoFX just brings me back to when I was 15 playing Pokemon Ruby for on the Gameboy Advance.


Gotta catch 'em all.

NaPoWriMo: Day 14

the world ended, humanity had gone

the survivors changed too much

and society melted away to just memories and burnt photographs

Buildings standing empty save for pets.

domestication, a short-term contract.

With once dimmed instincts growing sharp again.

The towns and cities becoming theirs.

Cats, who had forgotten the least, adapted well.

Killing for food is the same as killing for gifts.

Wearing collars given by dead owners, sheltering in their crumbling houses.

The last two subjects my internet buddies suggested were the apocalypse and cats. I used both for some reason.

NaPoWriMo: Day 13

Oh, he had cool armour too

A shade of grey in a universe of black and white.

More kept hidden than you ever expect.

He is a bounty hunter, the best in the galaxy.

Boba Fett, a name associated with death.

If he's paid enough. He will deliver who you want.

Dead if you wish

or alive

or disintergrated

Cunning is more deadlier than blasters.

Surprise, more deadlier than sabers.

Run, and you will just die tired.

Hide, and you will just die alone.

I asked internet friends what to write about, pokemon and velociraptors came up. So did Boba Fett.

NaPoWriMo: Day 12

Red, Blue, Yellow

Travelling between towns named after colours.

A boy travels the world alone.

Collecting, fighting, exploring.

Cutting through forests, surfing over seas.

He holds colossal monsters held in a just palm,

companions once wild, tamed.

The boy is driven by reasons only he knows.

Although it is the same plot each time,

every player has a different game.

A struggle to be the strongest

or a desire to catch them all.

Not sure what's happened here, tried to write about pokemon and it's come out all serious.

NaPoWriMo: Day 11

That bit in Jurassic Park where Muldoon gets eaten by the velociraptors

Man hunts his quarry,

"Clever girl",

the last words of prey.

NaPoWriMo: Day10

A Putty's Pledge

We fight for her, Rita.

She made us from clay

and we are loyal to her.

She is our one true god.

In her name, we fight.

We know it's hopeless,

they are far too strong.

May we die in her name.

Fighting the infidels

I feel only joy in battle.

Their colours, a blight to us.

We fight with our hearts.

Do you remember the "putties" in Power Rangers? David Bagshaw does.

NaPoWriMo: Day 9

Stupid Atlantic, stupid England, stupid Boston

Two halves of the same person,

glances at each other an ocean apart.

A longing, a connection, a gift in shared moments.

Separated by three thousand miles

Words, images and sounds travel between us in an instant,

a touch or a kiss can only stay where they are.

I've been getting to know a girl in Boston over the internet recently. Horrifyingly, she seems to be perfect in my robot-obsessed mind. This is about us. Yep, the ocean is a literal one.

NaPoWriMo: Day 8

Writer's block and anxiety

a block formed

an impasse in his mind

faced with a blank page

infinite possibilities

each choice eliminating another

different avenues closed

opportunities lost

a great work

could it have been written on this page?

instead of this

I swear I'm getting worse at this.

NaPoWriMo: Day 7

I used to find injured robots in the garden

clicking

Silly automatons,

Without emotions

they never understood I loved them.

I kept them in a box,

nursed them to health

beeping

I pretended they were saying "thank you".

I beeped back,

wishing I could understand them.

though we cannot communicate

I still love them,

my beeping little robots,

frozen in my memory forever

One week in! This is based on a true story, kinda

NaPoWriMo: Day 6

A random train of thought I got on the x1 bus to Newcastle


Am I a poet yet?
I've written several pieces
Is that enough?
Is it just the act of writing that makes a poet?
Is it skill, craft or even money?

I wouldn't be called a footballer unless I got paid for it.
But I would be a murderer even if I did it for free.
Is poetry more like murder or football?

I've a busy day today, it's a friend's birthday so I phoned this one in. I apologise for it profusely.

NaPoWriMo: Day 5

My imaginary battle with a non existent race circuit


Cartoon karts with cartoon drivers
driving round an impossible track

A battle between villains and ghosts, princesses and plumbers
Cartoon violence is no less furious.

A dozen competing, vying for even a slim advantage
gained from cartoon weapons in a cartoon warground.

Through determination and luck a leader emerges,
but soon cut down by blue and sure wings of death.

I hate you Rainbow Road, fuck you forever.
I will best you one day.

I've been playing some Mario Kart Wii today. It is infuriating, and causes me to write unpolished poetry.

I may alter this later.

NaPoWriMo: Day 4

where for art thou Romero?

they never sleep but we have to.

mournful eyes never blinking, searching.

patiently waiting for a chance to feed

mouths that will never know taste again..

shambling and clumsy, but many.

as numerous as we used to be.

their faces, mockingly similar to ours

dirty , sorrowful and gaunt.

desperate forays for supplies are never enough

but we can’t think about the future

we can’t even bear to think about tomorrow.

My first poem of the NaPoWriMo without any stabilisers or systems supporting me, it's about zombies.

NaPoWriMo: Day 3

A very familiar lament

He awoke on a bench in Abergavenny, unsure and cold.

The sun slowly giving sorely needed warmth after the cloudless night.

Another day has started and the previous night has yet to end.

Bleary eyes missing a contact lens searching for a familiar landmark

And a check of jacket pockets for his keys, wallet and mobile.

“All fine, no wolf at the door” his thoughts almost drowning in a hangover.

The bus is full of people on their way to work as he slumps into a seat.

Clumsy forcing his key in the lock he hurries into his flat,

a smash and grab on his own bedroom, a collapse on his bed .

Despite the hangover he is unrepentant, he’s had worse.

“Without a chance to blow steam like this now and then I’d have flipped.

Nicotine and alcohol saved my life.”

He smiles through the headache and goes to sleep.

Same method as yesterday, the tracks used:

• Another Day
• Nicotine and Alcohol Saved My Life
• Smash and Grab
• Wolf at the Door
• He Awoke on a Bench in Abergavenny

I hope to do a poem "without stabilisers" soon. I'm getting a bit more confident at this now.

NaPoWriMo: Day 2

Familiar faces are always more suspicious to me than strangers

This town, it never matters how long you’ve left for
coming back always feels like an admittance of failure.
On my street, on the floor is our own piece of this town.
‘Allotment no 44’ in a row of dozens in a town of thousands.

“Home is where the heart is.” But my heart is not here.
In the bars, men bragging and braying about things they did last weekend:
“Pulling”, “Push-ups”, “I punched a lion in the throat”.
I feel like a visitor in places I have visited 100 times before.

Old school mates, changed from friends into new people with new lives.

A shared history talked about but tainted by an uneasy truth,

neither of us chose to stay in touch.

A flash of nostalgia, a polite enquiry, a brief catching up.

This town will still be the same when I come back again.

• 
  

I had problems with thinking what to do this one so I used this way to get ideas using itunes (it seems I work better with more constraints on writing) shuffle what came out was...

• "Allotment no 44"
• "This Town"
• "I punched a lion in the throat"
• "Pulling push ups"
• "On the floor"

Not the best bunch of 5 but it could have been a lot worse.

NaPoWriMo: Day 1

First of April

Is it an April Fool's gag to do a full composition and omit a particular orthographic symbol?
I think this is a thrilling proposal.

How long can I go missing such a symbol? A paragraph?
Artificially limiting my wordplay ruins all rhythm though, am I making a fault?

Or will it bury all truth that I am not a valid wordsmith? A fraud.
Constraints to my wording is a limitation I may not surmount.

Can I do it?
Or in fact, should I do all my compositions this lunar orbit in such a fashion such as missing an "A" tomorrow?

Should I just post yarns about robots?
That's my kind of thing, robots.

It's odd, writing your thoughts in a particular way,
submitting to an unfamiliar form of communication.

I'm having thoughts as to why I did it,
Author's block is my justification I think.