April 6. Today’s daily resource for Napowrimo 2026 is Nobel-winning poet Louise Glück’s essay, “Against Sincerity,” in which Glück muses on the difference between honesty and truth in poetry. She pays particular attention to the blue and red corners of Milton and Keats, a virtual debate that inspired the following. On a cold wet marble,Continue reading “Galaxy of glimpses”
Tag Archives: death
Tempus Fugit
Today’s quest in Napowrimo 2026. The Tanka is an ancient Japanese poetic form. In contemporary English versions, it often takes the shape of a five-line poem with a 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 7 syllable-count – kind of like a haiku that decided to keep going. Today, we’re challenged to write ourContinue reading “Tempus Fugit”
Paul called
Our challenge this penultimate April Sunday, is to write a poem informed by musical phrasing or melody, that employs some form of sound play (rhyme, meter, assonance, alliteration). One way to approach this is to think of a song we know and then basically write new lyrics that fit the original song’s rhythm/phrasing. I watchedContinue reading “Paul called”
Lisa’s song
Today’s optional prompt is to craft a poem that recounts an experience of driving/riding and singing, incorporating a song lyric. Today’s resource took us on a virtual visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum where I found out about a still unsolved robbery in 1990, when a dozen invaluable works of art were stolen. IContinue reading “Lisa’s song”
No winds blow here
April 9. Day nine of NaPoWriMo 2025 and we are tested with the task of writing a work that rhymes but does not follow a set pattern or form. Today I took an online visit to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, USA and looked at the Birdcase exhibition (yes, I know it should beContinue reading “No winds blow here”
Seascape of slaughter
The ink on the note she wroteLeaches and bleeds,Into the sea. The water that carried her message of hope.On a sea that is deaf to her tearsThat stream downstreamBack to the sea. The cold, black, barren sea,Lifeless water,Grave of her daughter,Seascape of slaughter.
Concrete evidence
Through the tops of the spindle finger trees,Winds the windy breeze of autumn,Whispering in advance its warning,Its promise, of inevitable winter. It sings no song of hibernation,No prospect of warm spring regeneration,Just certain, guaranteed annihilation,And concrete dust;On children’s anticipation, Of death.
Missives & Musings 