poem a day, day 9.

napowrimo #9: your mission

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to:

  • Use at least twelve words from this list: flap, winter, torch, pail, jug, strum, lever, massage, octopus, marionette, stow, pumice, rug, jam, limp, campfire, startle, wattle, bruise, chimney, tome, talon, fringe, walker;
  • Include something that tastes terrible;
  • Include some part (from a few words to several lines) of a previous poem that didn’t quite pan out; and
  • Include a sound that makes you happy.

Write a poem!

***

i clamp my jaw and walk like a soldier the limp is barely noticeable.

i've torched most of the memories, their clean, white smoke dancing out of the chimney to join the clouds. although i stowed one or two behind the mirror of my eyes to show these bruises weren't for nothing.

at this stage it's like standing around a modest campfire in the dead of winter, talking to myself, trying to warm each fading extremity on the fringes of the bush of flames flapping back and forth with each gust of frigid wind, each whispering "shhh…"

another dream last night, startled my mind but massaged my heart until its summer strawberry taste began to settle back to the leftover ash of cigar on my tongue, the air here always reminding me of the first light.

memories and dreams and hopes and nightmares all strum and buzz and zip back and forth, blend together like an illusion. they speak nothing of tomorrow, only yesterday, only ever reminding

i walked a thousand steps away. to walk a thousand steps back might be impossible now.