PAD 2020 – Day 21

Who is in the mood for some utter nonsense? I tried the NaPoWriMo prompt today asking for a “homophonic translation” (words translated simply based the sound) of a poem in a language you don’t understand. I’ve included the original, untitled Dutch bit of text I found online, followed by my gobbledegook translation and an equally odd title. Certainly no danger of creating my own version of the genius Jabberwocky here.  My sincere apologies to anyone who understands Dutch.



Door of One


His state and mine go hugging, go great

all seen – backpack, door of one

after, again open my hood


travelling more, moving west to creek.


c99a71b389bed135cd633adff30fafb8 - Dutch poet Bert Schierbeek



PAD 2020 – Day 20

Following the NaPoWriMo prompt today calling for a poem about a handmade or homemade gift that you have received. It’s been an extremely difficult day to read the news — even more difficult than the hard, hard weeks that have preceded it. This prompt immediately made me think of a gift given to me by a friend who has offered me solace so many times, with her wise perspective and empathetic heart.


The Candles


I wonder if I’ll ever use

these beeswax candles, red

like the pure heart of she who made them?

How can I sever the wick, linking

one fragrant candle to the other,

when looking at it reminds me

how a seemingly simple connection

made over one conversation

can become so important?



PAD 2020 – Day 19

My poem today is still in process, so instead I’m posting it as a photo poem. Today I used the NaPoWriMo prompt  to write a poem based on a “walking archive.” What’s that? Well, it’s when you go on a walk and gather up interesting thing – a flower, a strange piece of bark, a rock. This then becomes your “walking archive” – the physical instantiation of your walk. Because of current quarantine circumstances, I did an “around the house” item retrieval instead. My written poem will also incorporate the Poetic Asides call to include the words bump; embrace; fixture; howl; lonely; resolve.

Isolation Scavenger Hunt

Scavenger Hunt

PAD 2020 – Day 18

Late getting to the writing today! I decided to use the prompt provided my my local Stroll of Poets group calling for a “happy to hear” poem.


wish you could hear


the gentle hush of one book page closing against another

a sunflower sprout’s first push through dirt

your finger brushing across the skin of my wrist

the harmonic tremor before a volcano erupts

a snowflake falling on my woolen mitten

a monarch landing on a marigold

the other butterflies you make stir in my belly


selective focus photography of queen butterfly pollinating on orange petaled flower

Photo by Debadutta on

PAD 2020 – Day 17

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt asked for a poem that features forgotten technology. I immediately thought of the cassette tapes of my youth. I still have some kicking around, with absolutely nothing to play them on.




Plan ahead. Write out the songs, then make your shortlist.

Abandon any that are too similar. Too off vibe. Think about

the mood you want, from start to finish. Each melody its own

chord in the brand-new track that is this mixtape. Start loud,

heavy, something to get the blood flowing and the ears perked.

Massage in the slow jams for aural relief, but don’t put ‘em to sleep.

Find a story and tell it. Think of your audience, always. Let ‘em feel

what you feel when you press play, when you hit the high notes,

when you belt out the chorus with your eyes closed. Dedicate it —

this passion project made of plastic and magnetic tape. Grab a good pen

and write out the track list. The start times too, if you’re really in love.

Draw a heart on the paper insert. Put their name inside. Use your best stickers.


close up photo of cassette tapes

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on

PAD 2020 – Day 16

A little short on writing time again today, but still wanted to answer the Poetic Asides call for “The Last _________ ” poem. In my house, we used the pandemic as an excuse to stock up on a lot of treats during our last big grocery shop. But now that some of the most popular items are dwindling, each bite comes with more thoughtful consideration. I even took a photo to document the evidence.


The Last Cookie


I opened the bag

as carefully as a thief

moving through a sleeping house

but could not commit the crime

knowing there’d be none left for you.


The last cookie





PAD 2020 – Day 15

Two weeks down! This is usually about the point in my poetry month, poem-a-day challenge that I lose some steam. I think it’s true this year too, but the fact that I’m halfway there, and haven’t (completely) run out of motivation yet is something to celebrate.

Today’s poem combines the NaPoWriMo prompt asking for a poem inspired by your favorite kind of music, with the Poetic Asides call for a “dream” poem. My favourite kind of music is definitely rock, which has apparently been true my whole life. I don’t actually like KISS as much as I did when I was wee, but I always appreciate a good guitar shred and anyone who puts it all out there on stage. There are many days when I dream of having that kind of talent and confidence.


I Wanna Rock N Roll


At age 3, my obsession was KIϟϟ.

Maybe it was the make-up,

or should I blame it on guitar riffs?

I don’t remember,

but my older siblings like to tell stories

of me trying to sing I Was Made For Lovin’ You

in my screechy, toddler voice.

I like to imagine

I did air guitar too.

I like to imagine

that even as a small child,

I dreamed

of being on a stage, leather-clad, breathing fire,

spitting blood, shooting rockets, blasting pyro

making drum kits rise off the stage like dark magic.

I like to imagine

that even though the drudgery of life,

all those inevitable responsibilities,

have tempered and tamed my inner rock star,

I hear my song and it pulls me through. *


*Last line is a lyric from “Detroit Rock City”





PAD 2020 – Day 14

A bit pressed for time today, which means I’ve gone with a compressed poem in my attempt to hit two prompts in one. I combined the NaPoWriMo challenge to write a poem that deals with the poems, poets, and other people who inspired you to write poems, with the Poetic Asides call for a form or anti-form poem. One of my favourite forms is the haiku or senryu, and of course that means appreciating the work of 17th-century haiku master Bashō. Since this is hardly a traditional haiku, maybe I have written an anti-form poem after all?


Bashō I am not

but I echo in honour

of his superb form

close up photography of cherry blossom tree

Photo by Bagus Pangestu on

PAD 2020 – Day 13

Followed the NaPoWriMo prompt today to compose a sort of non-apology for things you’ve stolen. Came up with a short and silly list poem.


I’m no thief, but look closely and you’ll find


several spoons not native to my cutlery collection nestled in a kitchen drawer

my secret stash of candy, looted from my daughters’ Halloween buckets

two horror novels once lent to me by a person I no longer wish to talk to

socks my aunt let me borrow last Christmas — oh so cozy, so I’ll consider them a gift

quotes nicked from popular films, strategically doled out when I think I’ll get a laugh

a handful of pens from my former employer

a few small notebooks from that same employer (what writer can resist a notebook?)

a stolen moment up against the fridge while the kids played in the next room

these final words, pinched from Eminem’s lips:

                    No apologies! Nah, suckers, I’m not sorry


blur close up coffee coffee cup

Photo by Pixabay on

PAD 2020 – Day 12

Squeaking in today’s poem before it’s tomorrow. Kept myself very busy the Easter day, with cooking and hunting eggs with my kids, which was a nice respite from the heaviness of the world. I tried to combine prompts again today, mixing the Poetic Asides call for a “spirit” poem with the NaPoWriMocall to write a triolet. I find form poetry, especially any that rhymes, to be extremely challenging, and this was no exception.




spirits are closest and dusk or at dawn

transitioning sun opens up inner light

thoughts attuned to what’s here, not what’s gone

spirits are closest and dusk or at dawn

asking us gently to keep holding on

believing beyond what’s in sight

spirits are closest and dusk or at dawn

transitioning sun opens up inner light


white clouds and blue sky

Photo by Ithalu Dominguez on