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How about GloPoWriMo 2025?
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why i am not a painter
I was sure there was no money in it.
I just cannot cut it with a palette knife, no way.
Sometimes the morning is so beautiful I forgot to count its colours.
I hear an inner voice saying "you cannot paint", and i am confused.
I heard you can stay an amateur, forever.
The brush whispers to the ear but it would not listen.
Sometimes the morning is so grey I do not want to get out of bed.
I hear my missus saying "you cannot paint, go figure out the bills".
18/04/2025
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thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
Yeah, yeah, one week without a post. Everyday boring stuff has a stiff grip. The Day 3 prompt at naporiwrimo.net asks us to write a poem explaining why we are not a painter but some other thing else, in the vein of Frank O'Hara's "Why I Am Not a Painter". Did I get that right?
Okay, don't just scroll social media everyday. Do something useless.
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talking to myself
Hey bro, you know I don't have much money right now, who brings so much cash over to this jungle? We are in the army, man. Anyway, I spent most of it on smokes, brought two cartons of marlboros over, heard the local ones are shit. The rest for R&R, we need that, the pubs, the massage parlors. It's not cheap in the city here in these 70's, everyone's trying to rip you off.
Talking about money, I made some at the blackjack games in the barracks. It's wild man, almost every night. One guy we called the "Colonel" completely lost his shirt and shit, says the dealer rigged his games. Pulls out a bayonet. We all restrained him, of course, no way the officers or MPs get a whiff of this. Then we pass a helmet around, toss in whatever change we can for his R&R.
Oh, if you have a chance to come over here, let the bedbugs bite you.
11/04/2025
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thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
The prompt at SingPoWriMo Day7 was to "write a poem addressed to your younger self". I think the above qualifies.
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small miracles
Today I wish you small miracles
as you go about your waking day.
A blue sky, pure white clouds and green leaves sunlit.
A sparrow hopping in the shadow at the Buddha's feet.
The community cat meows back when you greet it.
The bus is not late, in the train someone offers you a seat.
Do not question if there are small miracles.
Expect them, waking up in the morning is one.
09/04/2025
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thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
Yeah, yeah, just writing this in one sitting is a small miracle...
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Celaya
life is cheap in the hills,
like the cigarillo butt
i flicked into the fire.
sometimes i dream of tequila
but mostly i am thinking will i
see my wife, my children again?
06/04/2025
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thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
The title refers to a decisive battle fought near Celaya, Guanajuato, Mexico, on 6 - 15 April, 1915, during the Mexican Revolution for control of the country.
Okay, don't just scroll social media everyday. Do something useless.
How about GloPoWriMo 2025?
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names
what is the pub's name again?
the one in the east coast?
a live band of Filipinos
with a lovely lady singer.
remember, you always walk up
to that singer with a slip of paper,
your neat handwriting,
for a song request.
there are always wolf whistles
because your skirt is so short,
and your legs so long.
we drink our brandy,
the band plays your songs,
at times we sing along.
sometimes we leave early
to catch the last bus home,
other nights we don't,
we walk under the stars,
the street lights glare jealously,
the old rain trees sigh,
but now
after a lifetime,
i cannot remember that pub's name
but i remember your's clearly,
because
it is carved
in gilded letters
on a marble slab.
04/04/2025
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qingming
thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
no prompt needed. just wrote this in the middle of the night.
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A portrait of Kaneko Misuzu
It must be those eyes,
like dark coals
staring into the echoes,
a certain fleeting sadness,
as if she can see
into the future
her later unfortunate life,
that draws me
to the portrait.
"We're all different, and that's just fine"
01/04/2025
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thanks to napowrimo.net for the badge
The early-bird prompt at napowrimo.net was to write a portrait poem. I wrote it on the first day of NaPoWriMo, but other urgent things took over and I have to post it on the 2nd.
Kaneko Misuzu (1903 -1930) was a Japanese poet known for her poetry for children. She was celebrated during her lifetime, but her works fell into obscurity after her death.
I may like to compare her life with that of Adelaide Crapsey (1878 - 1914), the inventor of the cinquain. Both were ardently pursuing their art during their brief lives, but their popularity waned after their deaths. Fortunately for us, their poetry were not lost.
Random artworks I find in the streets, underpasses, parks. No transit stations. No museums. Well, sometimes.
They would include paintings, murals, sculptures, statues, structures, and temporary installations.
Can I call this an art installation? I just adore the Minions.
photo by dsnake1
beauty is in the eyes of the beer holder
Bello, do you prefer avocado or pistachio gelato?
01/07/2024
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Location : Outside a house in Volendam, The Netherlands
