NaPoWriMo #27 – Glue Sticks & Sunrises

NaPoWriMo 2020, Poetry, Small Poems

Hello everyone! Apologies for vanishing for a few days. Quarantine has not been good on my mental health and I also had a Japanese speaking exam to prepare for. But I’m feeling better and the exam is over (woo!) so I’m going to try and seriously work on some poems for the final 3 days of NaPoWriMo. To help me get back into the swing of writing I did something a little different today and took words from newspaper articles and a poem I wrote as part of an old school project about 8 years ago. It was so fun to stick stuff down on the page like a kid and also was great to help change up my writing style, since I feel like I’ve been getting into the same rhythm with my work lately. I highly recommend it if anyone wants to try switching up their writing. Anyways, enjoy this poem and have a great day! Let me know your interpretation in the comments! 🙂 Genuinely very interested to hear what people make of it!


my loud possessive flesh
failed
is novel.
passed it on a puppy farm,
two little lungs evokes
me spirit:
Crying, index to be bought,
appearing real --
moving
Dramatic scenery
but needs two
obey CINEMA seem
Art
make friends, happy and cheery,
your own, minature
bench.

By Priyanka Moorjani 8F

Onion Rings

Poetry, Small Poems
Mixing two sauces together
with onion rings
and not having to worry about

double dipping or sharing

was when I realised that being

alone
is
freedom.
Being alone is not lonely.
Being alone is not sad,
Being alone is not cry
- unless you want it to be.
Being alone is not even being 
alone but
with
yourself,
your thoughts,
and 
your body.

Being alone,
is fine. 
ft. the best food combo i ever made

Teacher

Poetry, Small Poems

It’s been so long since I’ve written a poem, at first I was afraid to write. I stopped writing a while ago because I felt like I had nothing to say and if I did have something to say I wouldn’t say it right. Then, this summer, my grandma passed away (may she rest in peace). After a long battle against all her signs of weakness she left us and the silence that remained was overwhelming, both from losing her and my will to write. After a long battle against myself, my depression and my guilt, I finally decided to put my fingers on the keyboard again and write my first poem about her. I truly miss her, and I’m still not sure if the words I’ve used can capture the true essence of what a great woman she was. But I’m trying, and if I can even capture a tiny part of her through my poetry, then I think I’m doing as well as I possible can to preserve her memory.

Rest in peace Granny 

Old Man

Poetry, Small Poems
Sometimes I like to compare myself to an old man.
Note how I did not say old woman – for old women have a
special quality to them
which old men do not:
you can see it if you brush away the dust,
buried inside them is a treasure
chest where
pearls of wisdom remain.

Tongue

free verse, Poetry, Small Poems

Yay! Double digits – 10 poems in 🙂

I think what I’ve gotten out of NaNoWriMo is realising that not all poems need to have a deep meaning behind them, and you can just write a poem for the sake of writing a poem. So, with that in mind, I chose to write this poem about how my taste in food has changed since I was a kid.