Home of Monty Vern
I’m celebrating National Poetry Month!
It’s complicated – click link and see prompt for April 5th. I followed the prompt loosely.
napowrimo.net
It’s Complicated
Breaking my radio along with my heart,
Untuned instrumentals angrily blared,
While she sang apologetic verses offbeat,
Unable to select a genre she mixed
rhythms and mistaken intentions
Before titling our break-up anthem:
It’s Complicated.
Be well,
Monty
I’m celebrating National Poetry Month!
Write a poem about living with a piece of art.
napowrimo.net
Drawn
He drew me with everlasting lovingkindness,
The only love he knows,
Who am I to complain about the lines etched across my face?
Or my rotund shape that seems to be forever further sagging?
These are but evidence of a full life,
Of living and loving,
Of enjoying His grace,
And being His beloved child.
Be well,
Monty
I’m celebrating National Poetry Month!
Write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist
napowrimo.net
Licensed to Poet
Clumsy feet,
Unmusical in beat,
I cannot paint a sky,
I’m not an acting guy,
I’m quintessentially unique,
Rhyming my only feat,
With punctuation bordering on absurd,
I’m always playful with my words;
If you didn’t already know it,
I’m only licensed to poet!
Be well,
Monty
I’m celebrating National Poetry Month!
Write a poem that directly addresses someone, and that includes a made-up word, an odd/unusual simile, a statement of “fact,” and something that seems out of place in time (like a Sonny & Cher song in a poem about a Greek myth).
napowrimo.net
Dear Me,
I’ve traveled decades,
First forwards,
Then backwards,
Then backwards again;
Don’t ask me how,
It’s harder to explain than pseudorays
Or cubic days,
But the fact is that I’m sitting here,
A tarnished old man, begging you,
Like a stiff-necked turtle
Awaiting the drop of the guillotine,
To please, no matter what happens,
Please don’t open that fortune cookie;
Better yet, don’t even order
The orange chicken,
Nothing good has ever come from orange chicken.
Trust me on this.
Yours truly,
Me
Be well,
Monty
I’m celebrating National Poetry Month!
Today, we challenge you to take inspiration from this glossary of musical terms, or this glossary of art terminology, and write a poem that uses a new-to-you word.
napowrimo.net
Moto
As
I gather
Pace I press
The clutch and shift
Musical gears – pushing lulls aside
In an escalating mechanical dance rave.
Be well,
Monty
I’m a bit late, but that is not going to stop me from celebrating National Poetry Month!
Pen a portrait poem of your own. It can be a self-portrait, a portrait of someone well known to you, or even a poem inspired by an actual painted portrait.
napowrimo.net
The Portrait
Here I stand;
Motionless in the window of the frame shop;
A “For Sale” sign hanging from my neck;
Left over from a previous year’s order,
Never picked-up,
I look oddly familiar, but unremarkable;
Perhaps a distant uncle,
Or an AI attempt at “middle-aged white male”;
A face peeks in through the window pane,
Initially curious, but soon disinterested;
It fades into the street beyond,
Along with the slightest glimpse of hope
I allowed myself to feel.
Be well,
Monty
East bleeds west,
As time dances along,
Urging the day forward.
Be well,
Monty
The lights burnt out,
Darkness cast across a nation broken,
Lit only by fiery wrath and ire,
Graffiti hate betraying fear,
He watches from his Oval Office,
Admiring the power of his chaotic pen,
Speaking of peace while waging war,
Promising luxury hotels in the wreckage,
Is that the plan?
To pick up the pieces in a bankruptcy auction?
The ultimate steal deal?
Defunded, positions eliminated,
So many lives derailed,
As the safety nets are methodically unravelled,
How far will we fall before we stand and fight?
Or are we past that?
Already too jaded?
Are we getting what we deserve?
After all this is what we voted for.
My mom tells me to add my light
To the sum of the light,
A lasting message from her dearly departed;
So I feel I need to make a turn here,
To find the silver lining,
To spin this into a positive;
But what if it’s not in me?
What if, today, I’m just too tired?
What if all I can do is sit here in the dark?
Be well,
Monty
I fell down, hard. First tripped up by my own feet, I’d lost my balance. Then they saw their chance and pushed me. Slammed me into the ground. I hadn’t seen it coming. I’d mistaken their wingtips as gentlemen’s attire. I didn’t anticipate their fancy high heels would be used to grind me down. I was naive. I didn’t even realize we were fighting. I thought we were all on the same team. So naive.
It’s been years since the first time that I was KO’d in the corporate world. Knocked down and out. Yes, I got up. But I was walking wounded for months. Unsure of my footing. Uncertain of the path forward. My confidence shaken. I eventually found my way. Stood up a little taller. Stronger for the experience, but not exactly grateful. It was just too damn painful.
These days, I’m back in a battle I never asked for. I’m a generally smart guy, but when it comes to office politics I always feel like I’m playing checkers while the real game is chess. I just don’t have the knack for it. I’ve no interest in playing, but there doesn’t seem to be much choice in the matter. The only difference now is that I’m less naive – not that I can see the next moves, but I know that in the end game I’ll survive one way or another. I’m less driven by fear. It doesn’t mean it won’t be painful. It doesn’t mean it will be easy. But with God at my back, I’ll be ok. I’ll be ok.
Be well,
Monty
Monty’s Blahg