A Tall Tale Prompt

This began life as a idea for a illustrated children’s book. I have yet to find a ending which packs a suitable punch for me to begin the imagery.

Roopid Bacon and the Someones

Roopid was born to parents
Who were rich but incredibly lazy
Hiring someones to buy whatever Roopid wanted
Hoping the items would make parenting easy

They purchased gadgets, animals and countries 
from early morning to late noon
If Roopid wanted a submersible, he was given a submarine 
they even bought him one third of the moon.

Whatever he loudly demanded
Spoilt Rupid eventually got
Like the ocean he wanted for a bath
And the extinct volcano for his toilet 

The someone’s purchased and supplied 
Whatever Rupid was shouting for
But soon his parents began to hide
As their sons shoutings became roars

One day they ordered the someones 
To purchase or invent an idea.
That stopped the racket their son made
From scratching the drums in their ears

‘Tie him to a balloon’ begged his dad
 ‘I need peace and quiet’ whispered his mum
‘Tie him to the steam train he owns and
 Drive him back and forth to London’ 

‘I want this, I want that’, Roopid screamed
As things he wanted flew past, just out of view
The clatter Roopid made was louder than the train 
The hubbub even made the evening news

His desperate parents ordered a stock check 
Of all the items they’d ever bought 
And someone found a key to their peace 
In a box labeled Space Suit for an Astronaut 

Dearest Son, they said, the following morning 
We're sending you to space, in a rocket.
Why? Hollered Roopid. ‘To find the source of the noise’, 
They replied, 'we want you to put a sock in it!'.

Arriving at the space centre Roopid bellowed
‘Flying in space is no big show’.
‘After Mission Control says 3 2 1 blast off’!
 ‘I’m flicking the flying switch to auto’.

‘To make the flight more fun, 
I’ve brought my own drawings.
I want you to build an amazing rocket 
Not like this one, who built that? It’s boring!’

‘Drawing number 5 is very important.
Look here at my wants and your to do’s.
A stable needs to be built right there, 
For my Donkey, Ostrich and two Kangaroos’. 

‘Your rocket can’t be be built’ 
Said someone standing in the front row.
Roopid shook and his red face twitched. 
For he was allergic to the word NO!

A shush filled the room, as someone whispered
'Be quiet Roopid, take minute to think'
But a howl erupted from Roopids mouth 
‘Build my rocket now and don’t forget the ice rink!.

The poor parents named his rocket Earplug.
Someone pressed the launch button. 
After blasting off, the 12 boosters all fired. 
But nothing appeared to happen.

‘Bacon we have a problem’
 Someone from Mission Control cried
‘We need to jettison parts
 Let's dump the fairground rides’.

Above the bang of the blast,
An ear splitting rumble filled the air 
In his space suit Roopid was roaring 
‘No, not the Dodgems? It’s not fair’.

Someone in the cockpit said calmly
'Close your eyes Roopid and start thinking'
'How I can I save the mission' he thought.
Then flicked all the red lights out that were blinking.

15th Apr 2024

blog, blogging, faith, NaPoWriMo, Poem, space, writing

Ignoring The Prompt

Far too busy today to feel the glow of the inspiration prompt. Im juggling looking after my P's, moving and working in a shop. Note to self, must find more time to binge on Netflix write!

Christmas in January

A post xmas damp morning
The towns tree rises three stories.
The birds look down
Choosing instead the solid ground of rooftops.
The tree without lights and baubles,
Clings to attention.

A mother uses the tree as a point of interest,
Cajoling her toddler in the 'right direction'.
'Look at you!'
'I like your hair'.
A greeting propels them past the tree,
Towards a group of mothers and children.
Waiting in a queue outside the library.

A ring of crowd control barriers 
surround the base of the tree.
Held together with hooks and eyes.
A festive red ribbon weaves through its bars,
In places knotted and bowed,
In places sagging,
Clinging to a celebration.

10th Apr 2024

Birds, NaPoWriMo, Poem

Ode to the Piddock

Crowd surfing above your peers
You're a discarded pair of angel wings
Whose raised veins reveal
Through pastel washes of seaweed green
Sun lit geometries of cathedrals

After supper, the resistance of bone
Beyond sweat soaked skin.
Greased with Piddock trails and wine
Our mouths slide over our lips
And we both fell into the night time

Stopping to kiss and grope
Leaving our food stained handprints
Glowing, like stars on warm walls
Our constellation followed us home
Where our bed cushioned our fall

Later, our hands and mouth
Too busy to leave clear impressions
Left a light show of love making
Left the flesh of the shell
So the minerals could return to surfing.

Ode To The Piddock

Sea FoodNaPoWriMo

9th Apr 2024

NaPoWriMo, Poem, The Sea

Day 8 – Legs Eleven

Cross Feet

My right is not having it,
You knock me again 
I'm going to loose my shit.

Will I miss the deadline?
Have I enough room in the shed?
Is it warm enough to start running again?
Have i broken the headboard on this bed?

The left foot pauses,
If they continue to fight
My feet can't hear.

Listen!

I say, looking down under the duvet,
You two be quiet.
There's enough to do and worry about up here.
Be nice and try and contribute.

8th Apr 2024

Day 7 (Rest)

A day of rest for Na/GloPoWriMo. So here’s one I wrote last year.

Good

When you find

Something you like, don’t hesitate,

Say ‘it’s good’ to yourself.

Point and say its good to me.

As feeling good makes us happy.

Share the good, give it away for free.

Because your good

Is the good that I want you to give

To me.

7th Apr 2024

The Blessing of the Old Woman, the Tulip, and the Dog , a glorious poem to be inspired by, thank you Alicia Ostriker. My contribution below concerns more than three components. Is that a tedious enough link? Yessss! I should just concentrate on writing more poems.

Day Five – In threes!

Hair Cuts

The waves are jostling in a gale
In a race to rise they collect themselves
Those that match each others speed and direction
Leave shallow traces.
Others push with equal force from opposing sides.
Using the bounce from the shore,
They greet the rolls of the tide.
Surging skywards forming blades of light.
Only to have their transparent crests dulled
Blown into white blossoms and lace spikes.
Fingers of dreadlocked foam
Curtains, bobs and crew tops.
Water, bouncy, brushed and combed.

And the waves that have dodged the style makers?
They hustle at the base of the curves
Collecting themselves
Waiting to be seen and heard.

5th Apr 2024

NaPoWriMo, Poem, The Sea

Chackerchakerchacker

The title above describes one of the calls made by Starlings. With this contribution I’ve chosen a poem which ‘fits’ the day’s theme rather than specifically using or taking inspiration from the prescribed book. BTW – from the chapters I’ve read, a wonderful read!

Day 4 –

After Fever (Dec 2023)

My fathers voice sings through the filter of his home.
While the long inhale of cars sigh pass

Outside. 

A drill shifts pitch 
And the whine of a plane emerges 
Gurgles and whines louder. 

Hear a caldron
Of short whistles and half words,
Spat out vowels and bone clicks,
Trill trails, shushes and beeps.

Even the sound of my son 
firing his hand gun 
joins this chorus of friction. 

In the neighbours back garden 
Hidden between branch and leaf
Starlings roost, 
Reciting spells.

5th Apr 2024

Birds, NaPoWriMo, Poem

Not sure about this!

I’ve found myself locked outside of the comfort zone with this particular task. Within the time limits involved, amongst the slogs of the day, here we go!

Day Three – Write a prose poem.

Capital

Have you got one of those candles? No, not those.

I bought one here last year. A singing candle, you know, it sings happy birthday when you light it. They’re usually here. No? You had lots of them.

Do you know, when I threw the bits and bobs from the party away, it was still singing. Every time my husband put the rubbish out, in the dustbin, he could hear it, the singing, in the bin. It sang for a whole week after the birthday. When we went out, you could hear it.

We had a singing bin, you don’t hear that every day. You’ve sold out? Oh that’s a shame. I’ll have these instead.

3rd Apr 2024

poetry, prose

I’m a little late to the party!

Writing to write better writing. Thank you for witnessing my up hill struggle to the summit of one poem a day ( https://www.napowrimo.net/).

Day Two – Write a platonic love poem.

Mass Recall

Using both arms
I'm holding the shopping bag
Close to my chest.
Both my hands cup the base
Reminds me 
Of carrying you.
Lifting you into cars
On to chairs or into baths.
Reaching my parents house
I grab the handles and tense
And let the weight fall.
This doesn't feel like a small hand
It’s too heavy for one

2nd Apr 2024

NaPoWriMo, Poem

My Fairground