A Cento for NaPoWriMo

In a war zone existence, delimited

by snipers, landmines and hostile troops,

Grey sky reflects in glass houses

and everyone is throwing stones.

She carries her mourning

gravely through the streets

She finds herself looking out for him

but every night, she goes home alone.

Hiding in lofts with sandbags at the door

he watches war 24 hours on TV

but at night their minds meet

and the ghosts of his words sadden her.

Put them in any two squares of a chessboard

and they would recognise each other -

but for now they are lost. 

***

I used the prompt from Found Poetry for today's poem. A Cento is a poem made up of lines from other poems, traditionally usually lines from other people's poems, but this prompt suggested using lines from your own poems (you can use one or two lines from each poem, mostly here I've used two lines from each poem). This was quite a tricky exercise and I'm not entirely happy with the result. However I was very happy to read through some of my old poems again with fresh eyes! 

senryu

texting her friend
about her swimming lesson -
she strokes her guide dog.

for NaPoWriMo.

***

And a reminder that the pdf of an updated version of my chapbook Bougainvillea Dancing is now available to buy in the Crafty Green Poet Etsy shop. 10% of proceeds from the sale of this book go to VSO for their work in Malawi and other parts of southern Africa.

As ever, coloured text contains hyperlinks that take you to other webpages where you can find out more.  

senryu from a nightclub

hurting my feet
as soon as I sit down -
new dancing shoes

***

the man in a dress
dances in stiletto heels
better than I could

***

on the dancefloor -
a couple make not speaking
into an art form

***
strobe lights
in the underground nightclub -
my nettle stung arm

***


for NaPoWriMo
 

Women's Work

after Jomwa Phiri

This woman will always be stirring nsima*
over a fire beneath a baobab tree
dark against a sunset sky.

Knees slightly bent, these women will forever
carry pots to and from the water well
and keep the well wheel turning.

But except the woman drinking with the men

these women move through these crowds
alone.

I remember such scenes being loud with laughter
but the artist reveals the loneliness
beneath the bright colours.



* nsima = maize porridge

For NaPoWriMo - early bird prompt - ekphrastic poetry

Jomwa Phiri is a well known Malawian painter, who I met when I lived in Malawi. We have several of his paintings round our flat and recently I discovered several more, hidden away in a drawer, one of which is now in the Crafty Green Poet Etsy shop, the others I'm going to frame and find wall space for.