NaPoWriMo 2.25: Leisure

Your orders…

Friday’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write something using anaphora, a way of repeating the same phrase in a poem to explore and expand the different ways it might be read – and of course adding a pleasing repetition and musicality to a piece. There was an excellent article from the Poetry Foundation, which you can read here.

One way of using anaphora in a technological way is Google Search Suggestion poetry, which I did a bit of last year – in this post.

This time I employed some popular phrases from online shopping and had a play with those, as the phrase for each stanza (‘Because you bought…’, ‘Your account’, ‘Sell an item’ and ‘Your orders’):

 

Leisure

 

Because you bought the very latest heavily-branded carbon-fibre

skeleton.

Because you bought the memory of the juddering of someone

else’s skiing holiday.

Because you bought a new set of plusfour pores through which the second prototype

of the old you can breathe.

Because you bought into the blimp, you’re going to need

to hold on.

 

Your account will never be suspended or disturbed, it will grow

verdant and ancient.

Your account is embossed onto the roof

of your mouth.

Your account could become diamond, platinum

or coal.

 

Sell an item of light to the nearest

available star.

Sell an item before it takes insurance

out on you.

 

Your orders expand with each nanosecond, in the faltering sirens.

Your orders are to the primary addressee on your account.

Your orders are straightforward.

Your orders remain.

NaPoWriMo 1: Borrowed First Line

This was the most tasteful dead dog I could find. Or maybe it’s asleep – let’s just say it’s asleep.

Catching up 33% complete: here’s my first NaPoWriMo effort. High-speed poetry!

The prompt was to write a poem using the first line of another poem.

I used the Poetry Foundation app to find a random poem – which turned out to be ‘Time of Need’ by Allison Seay – which you can read here.

The first line is ‘In the road, a dog. Days dead…’ (As a dog lover, this was a sad one to get).

I only read the rest once I’d written my own (vastly inferior) effort – read the original after, it’s a wonderful short poem. Seay’s has much more redemption than mine!

And so on to April 2nd’s prompt…

 

Mail Order

 

In the road, a dog. Days dead,

halo’d in flies, its lolling head

still points towards a door

across the street: number 13.

 

In that house, a man. Weeks lost,

tangled in light, his right hand

still clutches the dusty remote,

a finger hovering toward the screen.

 

On that screen, a face. Months mute,

gasping for air, its orange jaw

still selling in goldfish memory-loop

this fabulous product, that mail-order dream.