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NaPoWriMo 2026 Day 6

  A normal day, with a touch of surrealism As I pack for my trip to Round Top Poetry Fest, I remember last year. I can’t afford the motels in the area. so camped at Oak thicket Park.   It was lovely. So few campers this time of year, April, early in the camping season. For me it’s the perfect time. I don’t mind the rain if I have a roof. I rented a screened shelter. It’s nice because I kept my things inside  and lock the door when I leave but am still out in the open air. I hung my hammock sleeping amongst the trees. I befriended a cardinal.  He was fascinated that my hammock was such a bright orange. The cardinal decided it wanted to mate with my hammock. It would flutter  and dance, just outside, on the ground and do a fabulous mating dance for me.  Turning, fluttering its wings this way and that. Head down head up cooing  and chittering. I welcomed the rituals of this beautiful male showing off.  I took down the hammock, wrapped myself in it an...
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NaPoWriMo 2026 day 5

  I hate Catullus, the first-person poetic speaker  the real-life poet now long dead I hate his tales of woe, observations  translated for two millennium still riveting, relatable, relevant knowing full well my words will barely be digitized into binary blips  and my prolific proliferation  of pithy, poignant, provocations  will gladly be; reduced, reused, and recycled 
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NaPoWriMo day 4

Lightening A crack of bright light from ground into cloud lightning ignites thunder sounds loud hairs on my arms dance in the dark ears pricked to measure the storm’s echoing mark a shiver up my spine concern in the night the scent of sulphur and burned, flashing light
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NaPoWriMo day 3

 Why do fisherman prefer steak mechanics Drive crappy cars And counselors have the most issues? Why do the beautiful think they are ugly the dumb claim their intelligence  Or writers refuse to read? Why do humans think they’re gods Men compare themselves Or women mother others?  When “why” is answered  with “because, “we learn there was never one at all.
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NaPoWtiMo

  Middle finger right hand a pencil nub, red from wrong grip stressed like the spelling trying to coax the rules but neat enough to be accessible  Even her name was misspelled  Deborah became Debra
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NaPoWriMo 2026 Day 1

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 Birding in the dark the grackles sing lullabies to blinking red lights even the semaphores sleep and I am an April fool
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NaPoWRiMo March 31, 2026

Auditions Fifth row center end  Neck cocked to catch  Almost every word Relaxed into the smell of musty velvet seats  each mid-April honoring fellow poets getting inspired writing new shit Naomi Shihab-Nye can be found in Roundtop,TX
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