PAD 2019 – Day 22

Working with the NaPoWriMo prompt today to write a poem that engages with another art form. I have been watching my nine year old daughter learning and loving to play the drums, so that was the first art form that came to my sentimental, parental mind.

 

Beginner Beats

 

After your first lesson you told me

to be a drummer, you only need a body.

A heart to pulsate.

A foot to tap.

A palm to pound

Fingers to beat.

 

When you drum,

your entire body, small but strong,

vibrates with life tempo.

 

The first sound you ever heard

was the percussive thudding

of my own heart, close to you.

Sound imprinted,

on the growing soul.

 

Primal instruments — the drum, the heart.

Soundtrack to battle, to rally, to rise.

Thrum of liberation, running through

our blood.

NaPoWriMo – Day 8

Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt asked for “poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. A spell, for example.” I liked that example, and mashed it with the Poetic Asides prompt asking for a “family” poem. This one was strange and mysterious for me, as I so rarely attempt to write anything with rhyme.

Endurance Incantation

Strand of hair shines
with mother’s mothers’ whim
Strength of fifty golden
mothers before them.

Drop of carmine blood
we grow, share and shed.
Dancers in the shadows
of a full moon, red.

Never silent, mother’s mothers,
even shackled voices swell
humming in the pulse
stories born to tell.

Glint in daughters’ eyes,
lines etched on their skin.
Mother’s mothers’ journey
unbroken, within.