Napowrimo 2018 – day 1

April is he again…and that means it’s National (International) Poetry Writing Month – or NaPoWriMo for short.   I will once again attempt to post at least one new poem every day for the entire month. At, we are given an optional prompt each day. I will use these prompts sometimes, but will likely’do my own thing’ from time to time too.  Today’s prompt is secret shame or secret pleasure. Without further ado…

I have a secret love of sound
Of rhyme and rhythm on the page
Where poems and poets can be found
I think that that is all the rage

And though some poets write more ‘free’
eschewing rhyme and rhythm too
I tend to write more formally
(It’s OK if that’s not for you)

My rhyme book’s never far from hand
In case I cannot rhyme with ‘purple’
You think ‘He’s stuck now! Ain’t that grand?’
But ‘Ha!’ a cat is really ‘fur full!’

And now to end, I’ll rhyme with ‘orange’
By simply using the word…darn. nothing rhymes after all.

Morning Rush

Over at dVerse, Walter wants us to utilize rhymes in our poetry. I have written my share rhymed form poetry, but as of late, I’ve found myself leaning more towards free-verse. Nice to have some incentive to try my hand at rhyming today. Oh…and if you think you know what rhyming means, click on this link to read Walter’s explanation. You might be surprised at how much there is to learn about how rhymes work in poetry!


Oh the face of the clock
made me race from my bed
the alarm didn’t ring
and there’s harm if I’m late
It’s the first day of school
and the worst day to sleep in
I wake up the kids
with a shake and a shout
“go pack up your bags
don’t be slack! Get things done!”
I go to make coffee
but wouldn’t you know it
I find that the thing
that I use to grind beans
has still to be cleaned
so I’ll drink swill at work
This day started hectic
I pray that it slows down
it’s a pain to be rushing
at this insane pace!


I have chosen to use “interlaced” rhymes. That is, the rhymes occur somewhere in the middle of consecutive lines. My morning was rather rushed (I slept in about 40 minutes later than planned). I hope that having the rhymes in the middle of the lines, with unrhymed ends, creates a jagged and rushed feeling…much like I felt this morning!

How Not To Write A Sonnet In the Style of William Shakespeare

it is true that most sonnets possess
an iambic pentameter beat
yet I don’t think my poetry less
and in fact it may be quite a treat

and so here I submit unto you
anapestic trimetrical verse
is it better? Quite doubtful ’tis true
yet it certainly could be much worse

to have fun with a poem is my goal
and I like to bend rules (just a bit)
so my words I’ll continue to dole
and just hope you will not mind my wit

if like Shakespeare you’re hoping to be
when you write sonnets, don’t copy me!


at dVerse, Tony Maude is having us write sonnets.  I actually quite enjoy the form, but often like breaking (or tweaking) the rules.  Hope you don’t mind too much!

New Form (or new twist on an old form)

At dVerse we’ve been asked to make new forms
of poems for poets to express their words
and this one can be writ in towns or farms
but don’t expect great praises or rewards

I’ve written this in sonnet style you’ll note
but if you look at last words of each line
true rhymes I think you won’t see here tonight
but yet those words are linked and not alone

I hope you take the time to look it through
and don’t just throw your hands up in disgust
after the poem the mystery I’ll throw
to you because you are my honoured guest

I hope that once the form’s descrip is heard
you’ll find this style not too very hard


Today at dVerse, Gay is asking us to make up new poetical forms.  I decided to take an old form and give it a unique twist.  If you look at the sonnet above, you’ll notice a definite abab/cdcd/efef/gg form, but instead of the last syllable of each line rhyming with their counterpart, they start and end with the same consonant sounds, but have different vowel sounds in the middle.  Therefore, “forms” from line one is changed to “farms” in line 3, and “note” in line 5 is changed to “(to)night” in line 7, etc.

This style could be used in any existing form poetry where rhymes are replaced with vowel substitutions instead.  Hope you enjoyed…and I hope, even more, that you understood my explanation  🙂

Oh…and because I’m supposed to have a name for the form, I’ll simply call it “Vowel Substitution”

I’ll link this up to dVerse later today when the bar opens (at 3pm EST).

Something a Bit Silly for dVerse Open Link Night

a poet who hated to rhyme
decided to try it one time
he put on a bonnet
and wrote out a sonnet
but felt he was covered in grime

so next day he wrote some lim’ricks
but made sure that they didn’t rhyme
the purists were angry
but he didn’t care
’cause “that’s not my style” he said.


posted for dVerse Open Link Night

Perhaps there’s good reason that “Orange” doesn’t rhyme with anything

When I heard there are no words that rhyme well with orange
I decided to make one and so I said “Splornge”
Well as soon as I said it my Splornge came to be
It was hairy and short and as ugly can be

Before long that Splornge ran right out of the door
And I thought that the Splornge was gone for-ever-more
Oh if only my think had turned out to be true
For my Splornge had a mischievous streak, maybe two!

But before that odd Splornge made its way out my place
he had picked all my pockets with skill and with grace
And he’d gone through my fridge and he’d spilled my root beer
And with black felt tip marker had writ, “I was here.”

Then he hot-wired my car and he drove out of site
and the cops had to chase him well into the night
but when they finally stopped him he’d snuck right away
so the Splornge hunt continued until the next day

And before too much time passed he’d held up three banks
he had stolen identities, pulled tons of pranks
But when Splornge hacked the Pentagon he’d gone too far
As if it weren’t enough that he’d stolen my car!

Well it took me some time before I made my plan
But I finally hatched one with my good friend Dan
We concluded there might be one way to stop Splornge
What I had to do was say that “naught rhymes with orange!”

The solution worked fine but I’ve still got one fear
For there’s one other colour without rhyme I hear
So whatever you do when you want to find rhymes
don’t end lines with “purple” and then you’ll do fine!


I wanted to write a poem in anapestic tetrameter. Dr. Seuss used this meter brilliantly, and I wanted to try to do something “Seussian”. Definitely doesn’t work as well as the Dr.’s works, but hopefully it still gave you a smile.
Written for dVerse Open Link Night

Thorson Thorkelson The Thord – Part 35

Despite her sorrow at having to go home and say good-bye to Thord, Bertha couldn’t help but smile as she thought back on the things that she and Thord had done together.

One Saturday morning, when she had been able to spend the weekend at the Thorkelson house, she came down to breakfast to find Thorson waiting for her with his goofy, lopsided grin lighting up his face.  Before she could ask what he was up to, he said,

“I have an idea for a really fun time
whatever we say, we say it in rhyme.”

She hadn’t been sure of his idea, but had decided to give it a try.  At first, they both found it challenging, but before long, they both got into the spirit of things.  It helped that Thorson’s mom and dad joined in on the fun.

At lunch time, Thorson took Bertha out to McDonald’s.  She wasn’t sure if the game applied to public settings, so she let Thorson order first.  He walked up to the counter and said,

“Dear sir, I confess I do wish
to sample your Filet O’Fish.
I tell you no lies
when I request your large fries.
And in case I start to choke
please pour me a large cup of Coke.”

The guy behind the cash register looked at Thorson as if he was crazy, so Thorson just grinned at the employee.

After he had placed his order, Bertha had gone up the the counter and said,

You may think my boyfriend is a crack,
but please excuse the dear.
I would like a Big Mac
and a tall cold glass of root beer.
And don’t let it be a surprise,
that I also would like a large fries.

They had hardly been able to eat because they’d been laughing so hard.

Of course, one of the highlights of the day had been at supper, when Thorson’s dad spouted off a petrarchan sonnet because he wanted something passed

‘Tis still a bit of space left on my plate
Upon which I could place a bit of food
I see this void and think it rather crude
For I will still be hungry when it’s late
I look around this table at you all
And see that you have something that I lack
I feel that I have fallen through a crack
There’s such a very long long way to fall
There is a solution that I perceive
If you’ll indulge me for a little bit
Excitement fills me from my head to toes
Just bend your ear and soon you will believe
If you but listen to my stellar wit
Would you please pass me the mashed potatoes?

Bertha didn’t notice how much the memory of that wonderful day was affecting her until the stewardess tapped her on the shoulder.  “Miss, are you alright?”

That’s when Bertha realized that her shoulders were shaking from a combination of her tears of sadness and her laughter.  She looked up at the stewardess, smiled, and said, “Thanks.  I think I’ll be alright.”  As the stewardess walked away, Bertha whispered under her breath, “as we fly on this flight.”