Poetry Prompt for April 1st, 2023

National Poetry Writing Month (also known as NaPoWriMo) is a creative writing project held annually in April in which participants attempt to write a poem each day for one month. NaPoWriMo coincides with National Poetry Month in the United States of America and Canada.

This website is owned and operated by Maureen Thorson, a poet living in Washington, DC. Inspired by NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month), she started writing a poem a day for the month of April back in 2003, posting the poems on her blog. When other people started writing poems for April and posting them on their own blogs, Maureen linked to them. After a few years, so many people were doing NaPoWriMo that Maureen decided to launch an independent website for the project.

I started writing poetry in 1988 after I had been exposed to T.S. Elliot in my honors English class in high school. In 1992 I started reading my poetry publicly at Espresso Europia Coffee Shop in Abilene Tx while I was in the United States Air Force. While living in Rockford Illinois I published my first book of poetry Throwing Yourself at the Ground and Missing in 2007 followed by Postcards From Someone You Don't Know in 2008 Wisdom From the Sack in 2010 and Shaving Crop Circles In My Chest Hair in 2017. You can get copies of all of these books in my merch section. In 2020 I started publishing my podcast version of the challenge and those can be viewed here for 2020 and here for 2021.

For 2023 I am not going to be just writing poems in April, I will be writing poems all year round. Also, since I will be writing all year round, I am using a different source for my prompts. There is a blog called Think Written and you can find it here. I will also be performing these works at Katora Coffee House here in Fredericksburg Virginia on their Friday Night Snaps Open Mic Poetry reading. Some of the podcast episodes you will hear will be a live recording of me reading the poem to a live audience, other times I will be reading it in the comfort of my home studio. I do plan on posting my work to the NaPoWriMo site and interacting with the poets there and see if they want to read their work on this podcast.

The Untouchable: Something that will always be out of reach

Penetration

1 Jan 23, 2013

I look into your eyes

Those pools of blue are so like mine

Every morning I ask the same question

Wanting to know what is going on behind the window

Your voice repeats things that your mother was too young to know about

There was no way you would have heard those words and phrases from me

I’ve done my best to try and forget the person who originally uttered them

But you can pick her out of a crowded picture from 1979

I want to save you the anguish she knew and caused

I couldn’t save her in the end

And it was a tragic end

Relying on everything being provided by

The one who molested your children

Cheated on you with the church secretary

Demanded that we all attend that church 5 times a week

Knowing what we knew

Being the embarrassment of the congregation

I’ve taught my child to say fuck you to the President

Put a middle finger up to the patriarchy and systemic racism

When they try to grab her by the pussy

She knows that she is not to stop stabbing until the knife won’t come out of her attacker's chest, groin, brain, heart

She is to use the knives my mother chased my brother and I around the house with

Screaming that we were possessed, and she would be taking the demons from our souls

Even if it killed us

My daughter knows how to slay the demons of Diablo

And those who put on the skin of humans

She knows how to use her words to stab at my heart

My gift to her was anger

My gift to her was rage

She knows how to wield it

I have no need to interrogate the people she will bring to our house

Nor will I clean a rifle or a chainsaw in their presence

Unless I am actually doing lawn work

I have no need to intimidate in order to protect her

She can take care of herself if the task is too large

Then she knows when to bring me in, to finish

And here we are

After another screaming match with her mother

She is doing her best to look intimidating

Her frown flexed

Her gaze intense into my eyes

Her breath shallow and quick

And just as she cannot decipher my demeanor

She has no idea I am actually in control of the situation just by sitting here quietly

Motionlessly

Emotionlessly

She ponders how I can exude so much unfeeling, such detachment from humanity

She doesn’t know that I am scanning her for a crack

A chink in her armor that I helped forge

A way to see into her inner workings, her deep thoughts

The dreams she refuses to elaborate on

She won’t know until she reads this

And even that would be a stroke of luck

If she finds it and realizes it is about her

She’s a bit too much like her long dead grandmother

And I am ignorant of my obscure grandfather

So, there will be no repeating of N.N.B.

I wish a reflection my Mother of choice

For now, I will stand by

Looking deep into the eyes of my child

Attempting to peer into her soul

Attempting to steer her away from the paths we have generationally tread

To reach out to me, email timothy@createartpodcast.com I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and let's start that conversation.

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