“LIFE” – NaPoWriMo 2015 , Day 30 – last day of napowrimo 2015

And now for our final prompt (still optional!). For the last day of NaPoWriMo, I’d like you to try an odd little exercise that I have had good results with. Today, I challenge you to write a poem backwards. Start with the last line and work your way up the page to the beginning. Another way to go about this might be to take a poem you’ve already written, and flip the order of the lines and from there, edit it so the poem now works with its new order. This will probably feel a bit strange (and really, it is a bit strange), but it just may help you see the formal “opening” and “closing” strategies of your poems in a new way!

This is my last piece for NaPoWriMo 2015.  See you all next year !



it’s me, it’s only mine

because you have nothing to do with what is mine

and what i own, it’s only mine

i celebrate myself about my life


“I Was Taken” – A Persona-Poem-Themed Poemeleon : NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 26

And now, for our prompt (optional, as always). Our last two prompts have been squarely in the silly zone – this one should give some scope to both the serious-minded and the silly among you. Today, I challenge you to write a persona poem – a poem in the voice of someone else. Your persona could be a mythological or fictional character, a historical figure, or even an inanimate object. Need some examples? Check out this persona-poem-themed issue of Poemeleon from a few years back.


i hear your voice calling out the nurses
in panic, you ran outside the hospital room
then i heard voices from directions
just beside me shouting,
call the nurses
call the doctor
bubbles came out of my mouth
while a silver spoon was inserted
between my upper and lower sets of teeth
and the time rushed
and they arrived
i called my mother
i called my father
but they’re all looking at me
with a smile
and they arrived
all in white
with wings, with fogs so clean
and they’re bringing me to 
a kingdom i don’t know
there was a light
that pierced the clouds
and into me
i was taken
but from a distance above
i saw a body carried out
wrapped in white cloth…
it was me
i saw tears not only one
but thousands as if to overflow
the night while i lay
waiting to be lifted
and carried away
to be cleaned and
put to a wooden box
of white
prayers were said
masses were held
but i laid there with make-up
inside a box with a glass window
i saw friends, classmates, teachers
 in-laws and neighbors
took their turns to  see me
but i could not move
the last day came 
the last prayers, the last mass
they lifted me out of the box
put me on the stainless metal table
and threw fire at me
as if they wanted
to be sure that i am already
a cold lifeless matter
my skin began to blister
and i couldn’t perspire
until flesh and bones
were turned to ashes
weighed how light i was,
put me in a plastic bag
and into a brass urn they kept me
and stored me in a Columbary
my final resting place
on earth…

“The Hut Owner” – A Clerihew, NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 25

And now for our prompt (optional, as always)! It’s the weekend, so I’d thought we might go with something short and just a bit (or a lot) silly – the Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name. You can write about celebrities, famous people from history, even your mom (hopefully she’s got a good name for rhyming with).

the hut owner blog
sleeps everyday like a log
when he wakes up in the morning
his saliva is still dripping

“My Life” – A Parody, NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 24

This is a parody based on Walt Whitman’s poem Life


My Life – A Parody


i celebrate myself, singing out of tune

and what i assume it’s only mine

because you have nothing to do with me

it’s me, it’s only mine !




This is the original poem by Walt Whitman


I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me
as good belongs to you.

– Walt Whitman

“Sweat” – A Pastoral Poem – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 22

The view from the restaurant of Villa Igang Resort...
drips of sweat can’t soak the field
where flakes of soil remained upturned
the blade of the plow turned to shield
from stones underneath the sun has scorned
the man has burned his skin to dark
like the earth that receives the rays of gold
sweat not enough from one man to start
to grow a single blade of grass in cold
unfriendly skies, unmindful clouds
waters of oceans, seas, and lakes
their dreams have withered, gave in a drought
wheat, rice and corn, their land have caked…

“Temper” , an Erasure Poem – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 21

I am re-titling this recycled piece to “Temper” from a recipe I stumbled upon from a Food Magazine. Here it goes :


Do not stir
Stand in heat
Simmer until done
Take out
Add tender to the touch
Low heat begins to shed some fat
From fire, take out

with magazine text 010


with blocked out 003