NaPo ↘↖
My own chickenscratch handwriting, from a NaPo song.
Day 30 Poem: Conclusion of NaPo!
It’s April’s final day—
Tomorrow’s 1st of May,
And it’s such a pity,
Such a feeble ditty!
It’s too bad to end this way.
I know NaPo is complete—
So that’s triumph, not defeat.
But is Screnzy done?
No, it’s more like “un.”
On the whole, it’s bittersweet.
I suppose it’s just as well;
There’s no ‘Net in this motel.
I had hoped to finish,
And feel semi-winnish,
But I didn’t. Meh, what the hell.
I’ve decided, Tumblr friends:
This ain’t where this story ends,
So each week this year,
At least four times, here,
I’ll post but what? That depends…
I still want to write this script,
‘Cos so far, short it’s been snipped.
Me and dear Sherlockcat
Have determined that
In the bud is shall be nipped.
I’ll protect my peace and quiet,
Have a healthy, balanced diet.
If an inspiration
Suits my inclination,
I will do my best, and try it.
For a full month, writing verse
Has been blessing; has been curse.
I’ll add plays and lyrics,
Music, art, and satirics:
Creativity’s my nurse.
As this month draws to its close,
I send out my thanks to those
Who have cheered with patience
This decrepit ancient’s
Efforts. It’s to you that my love goes!!
And to all those who inspire
Me to write, set my soul on fire:
Have I told you ever,
You are loved forever?
You are! I shall never tire
Of doing my best
For you. Have you guessed?
That is what my rules require!
With love,
Cleopatrick
April 30, 2011
Day 28 Poem: To be announced.
How would you like to go up in a swing?
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I think it the loveliest thing
Ever a child could do!
Yeah, okay, I guess.
Or we could let it slide.
Day 27 Poem: “Free Verse; Free of True Quality”
Free verse
is so
darned
much
of a cop out
or so it seems.
dramatic pauses
shimmer
like the toffee
under the
stars.
“Do you love me
As I love you?”
Cole Porter wondered famously
As he mamboed in and out
of the colors
of history
with a shake of his hips
And
a
mumbled
titter.
God!
that is pathetic,
what I will do
To finish 30 poems
by
Tomorrow
Pity me beloved friends.
Forever trying my best to comfort you
Scared and frustrated when I seem to fail at it
I wish your trusting me would extend to believing that you’re as good and worthy
As I know for a certainty you really are
And always loving you
.
Don’t keep anything hidden from me
I accept you
fully
Sight unseen
.
You touched my heart
Without ever seeing me in person
I will always long to repay you for that
.
Can you forgive me
For loving you so much more than you seem
To love yourself?
.
Can you ever forgive yourself
For being you?
.
I don’t want to feel like a bad friend
For failing
For years
To restore your faith in yourself
.
But even if I do sometimes
I will NEVER
Quit
Will NEVER
Desert you
.
I love you so much.
.
Please
Try
Try hard
Try again
To believe that.
.
And let that belief, when it comes.
Heal you
Please.
.
Will I ever give myself permission
To tell you how much I really love you?
.
And will I regret it and lose you
When I do?
.
Love this strong makes a person mortally scared
Of losing
The person who is loved.
(via dreaminginloop)
Day 25 Poem: “Scuttle After the Wedding”
My name, my friends„ is Scuttle Clifford Gull,
Or Scuttle C. Gull—all the same to me.
Sometimes I contemplate (you could say “mull”)
My bachelor’s existence—Wild and free;
. However, can you see?
. My life’s a little dull.
I’ve got some friends—I’m grateful that they care.
They sometimes come to visit for a while…
I sit upon my rocky perch out there—
We catch up on the gossip and we smile;
. The visits to my isle,
. More recently, are rare.
Ahh, yes, I’m growing older, and I find
I miss companionship a lot. Ah, well!
I’m not complaining! I don’t really mind;
I miss one special kiddo, truth to tell:
. The Princess Ariel,
. So trusting and so kind…
I love her like a real uncle should;
She called me Uncle Scuttle—lovely niece!
Yeah, we were Buddies! Close. Sometimes we would
Together watch the sun rise in the East,
. Or laugh like silly geese.
. I tell ya—life was good.
But that was years ago; it’s different now.
We used to meet where ocean meets the sky,
When she was still a mermaid. She’d allow
Her Uncle Scuttle to identify
. Her human relics—I!
. (Who’d never seen a cow)!
I didn’t want to disappoint the kid,
So for each item I produced a story;
Made up a silly name. Oh, yes! I did.
Inaccurate, of course, these tales of glory.
. From Flounder and from Dory
. My shameful truth I hid.
I thought my secret safe—I never guessed
That Ariel would trade her voice for feet,
And live on land, where she began to test
The truth of my descriptions. Oh! Complete
. And swift was my defeat:
. An arrow through my chest.
In short, she learned that all I’d said was lies.
Much more than losing face, I’d lost her trust,
And in my shame, I figured she’d despise
Her human-culture tutor, and she must
. Assume her lesson’s thrust
. Was: “Doubt a friend who flies.”
But I maintained a brave and smiling face.
I felt unworthy, wished that I was dead,
But if that mermaid minded my disgrace,
Or felt betrayed, the princess never said,
. Or even shook her head!
. And then… “Can I erase,
“Alleviate, reverse the harm I’ve done?“
I wondered. “I can help her win the Prince,
”Get him to kiss her! I could be the one
”Who makes her dream come true! I’ll drop a hint!
. “That’s it!” It made me wince,
. For if it worked, she’d run,
On her slim human legs, to live on land,
Where she’d no longer see her pals or Pop,
And I would, likely, from her sight be banned;
But that was fair to me—that she should stop
. Our friendship; that I drop
. Out of her life…be canned.
I sang romantic music for the pair.
I rallied ocean cavalry to fight
Vanessa (or the Sea Witch). Through despair
I struggled grimly, knowing that I might
. Succeed; might conquer, smite
. Both Witch and Seagull. Fair.
Perhaps she can’t forgive me, after all.
At any rate, when Eric took a wife,
She smiled at me, politely. But to call
Our friendship ‘close’ today? Not on your life.
. For it would cause her strife
. To leave her nightly ball
And come out here and visit Uncle Scut.
She has her landlocked life now, never mind.
As far as she’s concerned, that door is shut.
And I deserve it. No, you’ll never find
. My niecelet here; I’ve pined;
. But I’m a useless nut.
I’ll sit and watch the sea, just on a whim.
Without companions, buddy, life’s a bore.
But what’s that ship that’s coming? It’s quite dim…
It seems to me… I’ve seen that ship before!
I see some long, red hair!
It’s my dear niecelet there!
That lovely voice once more:
“Oh, Eric! Look! It’s him!“
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh. I made myself cry.
I miss my niecelet.
I hope for all of you that the friends you love the most but have lost will return to you and love you as they did before.
With love,
Cleopatrick
April 24, 2011
Do you like this?
(Source: gray-manichean)
Day 24 Poem: To my Friend
I’d do anything, darling—anything I could do
To make our friendship closer—so you know my love’s true.
You don’t realize, maybe, just what this love is.
It might mean more than what YOU mean;
Let me clarify, dear one—promise you won’t run away
If you don’t want this love, then, that’s what you should say.
And I will be okay with that, love you anyway—
But if I don’t ask, I won’t ever know,
And you might never guide me, and so…
I would carry your books home with me after school.
I would joke around goofily—act like a fool.
I would hold you and comfort you when you feel down
I would help you to button up your junior-prom gown
I would cram with you, cheat for you—I’d take the blame
I’d come up with a secretive best-friend-like name
I do pray for you, honey, ask God to protect you
My darling, from things that would hurt or infect you
And insist that all people pay you respect
(You deserve it, you know…they should all genuflect!)
And I shall learn your langauge so we can relate
And I’ll learn all lthe things that you love and you hate.
And I’ll cheer for your poetry, say that it’s great
If there’s danger, I’ll save you and not hesitate
I would give you a flower or love song, my dear,
I would give you a backrub to ease stress or fear
I would treat you to coffee, or dinner, or beer.
All of that’s simple friendship…or so it may appear
But there’s more, if you’re willing—I hope that you are
And I’m somehow quite frightened that I’ll go too far
Just relax and communiate, love: it’s OK.
Anything that you feel for me, tell me, and say
That’s it’s good or it’s bad for you—heh—either way
But I want to investigate, starting today
So tonight at the movies, I’ll just take your hand
And that’s asking permission—hope that you undestand
Rest your head on my shoulder, please; that’ll be grand
Then later, the seashore. We’ll walk on the sand
We can sit on the beach looking up at the moon
I will hold you…like normal…but that will change soon
We’ll be forehead to forehead…I can’t wait much more
I’ll be wishing to kiss you, there on the sea shore
And then oh! If our love can stand fast,
That’s the moment I’ll know that the moment will last
We’ll be siezing the future, retaining the past…
Blue upon blue upon blue.
Yes, I’m in love already—it’s time that you knew
With permission, I’ll show you in ways that are new
And I hope that you realize I’ll never be through
Loving you—Loving you—-
I would take you for walks, maybe go to a dance,
I would get in your heart and your head, and your pants—
But we’d still keep our friendship, throughout our romance,
Blue upon blue upon blue.
I am persistent—I won’t give up on you
No matter how rottenly life’s treating you
I’m telling you, [honey]—nothing you could do
Can ever deter me (Come late or come early)
Even if it were true, you’re flawed bad as you say,
Even if your mentality rotted away,
Even if you were wicked, by your side I would stay
Loving you, loving you, loving you
Well, perhaps I’m a fool to tell you all this stuff
And if we should meet face to face, we’d find that our love
Would evaporate instantly—that would be tough
And so maybe, just “Internet Friends” is enough
And that’s scary to think about—scary, indeed
‘Cos I tell myself, now, to provide what you need
Would be possible for me, dear, once you agreed
To let me come see you and hug you; be freed
From the curse of long distances, touching you, friend,
Would reveal that the feelings were only pretend
Oh how painful, if that first time’s really the end!
I’d be blue upon blue upon blue…
And so guilty, if I hurt you too!
Maybe I should just shut up—never hit ‘send’
For I’m always afraid I’ll lose you as a friend
If this is just a fake love, don’t wake me again;
Let me dream till I die, never tell me goodbye…
They say love is a blindness—and for sure, I can’t see
Why an angel like you, whom I like, could like me
Ev’ry time that you’re kind to me, m’heart just goes ‘squeee!’
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Blue upon blue upon blue
I’m your fool and I’ll always love you
Well, my heart’s almost breaking, my friend.
I’ll delete all but this:
“Hi, dear!
“—Cleo…..”
~SEND~
.
April 24, 2011
Cleopatrick
Good evening, all! I had best get some rest; there’s a test. What a pest!
Day 23 Poem: “April 23rd Ode to the Bard”
Oh, a birthday significant falls on this date!
Though we’re from dif’frent places, he was our school mate
He was quite intellectual—made up new words,
And he spoke in the hallway of witches and birds.
.
I’m talking of Shakespeare, the Immortal Bard:
The author of plays and of poetry hard.
Some people don’t dig him, but I think he’s great;
The haters, I guess, are determined to hate.
.
Although none of his stories original are,
Adaptations surpass all his sources, by far.
Take the Revenger’s Tragedie—whom are you Kidding?
—And I heard that Will finished Hamlet in one sitting.
.
Shakespeare gave us such idioms. All must acknowledge,
It’s not just some crap to remember for college!
For Will is the Bach of the lit’rature world,
And he’s hailed as a genius—He’s often fan-girled.
.
His scripts make better reading than “Plane Full of Snakes,”
And there’s no other writer whom I’d call “Great Shakes.”
So a most happy birthday, dear Bard of the Avon—
You’re proving that English is something worth savin’,
. (And you never indulged yourself, like Ed Poe’s “Raven.”)
Day 22 Poem: “Tumblr Sorrow”
My Mother scolds. My Father storms.
So into the real-life world I return.
My Mother cries, “Throughout spring break,
“You’ve been in here; Laptop I’ll take!”
My Father shouts, “This idling’s done!
“Go get a job, or you’re not my son!”
(He doesn’t know the secret truth—
(I’m gender-queer: a female youth!)
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I say. “You’re right.
“Take my PC away…Good night!”
Alone in here, I’m grinning large,
Till I see ‘Phone is dead. “NO CHARGE.”
“Aw, crap! No way! Son of a b*tch!”
I’ve really got this nasty itch
To scroll the dashboard, hit ‘reblog,’
Add a note—“I’m with ya, dawg!”
But till my iPhone’s charged, I’ll weep;
I’m too upset to go to sleep.
And is my askbox full? ~my creys~
I won’t survive for many days.
Without my Tumblr on, life’s gray—
My will to live will ebb away.
They’ll find me here, tomorrow dusk,
A withered, hollow, dried-out husk.
In solitude I sit, despondent,
Without a friend or correspondent.
A frown gives way to smirk—“At least
“I shall not see a Tumblbeast.”
And that begins a train of thought:
Frustrations against which I’ve fought…
The biggest thing’s the rotten luck
The site’s a giant, huge time-suck
The only time I that I sign in
Is after Windows crash again.
The askbox system needs redone—
Social aspects should be fun,
But when my pal replies to me,
If not at dash, I’ll never see
Her answer; will not know that she
Has seen what I wrote her. Aw, gee!
A notification came today
To tell me what my friend would say;
I read it; I’m surprised to find
I got that message, underlined;
When? Late last week! What gives?
Astounding that this site still lives.
(And here’s a nod to SherlockCat)
“When you see it, bricks will be shat.”
As I withdraw from TumblrLand,
I look down and I see my hand
Is trembling a little bit,
As monitor-free, here I sit
And contemplate life led offline
How do I feel?
. I think I’m fine.
It is surprising. Do I live?
“Oh, look at all the f*cks I give.”
I never visit Facebook now;
Who needs those losers, anyhow?
My truest friends are now the fans
Of Sherlock, Homestuck, Spidermans,
(Or “Spidermen?” Now that, I’d NOT see;
(Consult your nearest grammar nazi!)
I now remember, piece by piece,
My life before the blue took lease.
I once had phone calls, had a tan…
I once cooked eggs and bacon, man!
I vaguely see a sort of jerk
Who asked me to write … umm … “homework.”
And as my eyes grow dim and misty,
I lose myself in Agatha Christie.
Day 29 Poem: “Contest Journal” (Part 1)
Is one day missing? I’m not sure.
For safety, I’ll write just one more.
I’m in Taipei; it’s for a contest
(That’s just in case info thou wantest).
We’ll sing and dance a dumb pop tune
In sequin-spangled plastic shoon;
The lyric’s altered, matched for fit
The situation tied to it.
Bud Holly’s version said
That love’s a snap, but here, instead,
Grapes are easy (so we sing).
Ah! That makes sense of ev’rything!
A grape like that, however, needs
To first be emptied of its seeds
Before it can be et or cooked:
A matter that’s been overlooked.
To fall in love’s a simple matter;
Relationships easy? Idle chatter!
Although, of course, it fools the masses—
It’s caught on big…just like Bud’s glasses.
[Hipster Holly? Whee! New memes!
[But will it catch on? In my dreams!
[And Hipster Freberg? Carey? Allen?
[Hipster Cleo, too? We’re pallin’!]
Contestants wish to bag the bounty
They’ve trampled here from a diff’rent county
For contests like this one, I fear,
We won’t see a trans*woman here,
Nor a trans*man—Not yet, at least,
Though things are changing in the East.
The Asian outlook’s far more narrow;
Presumptions fill a wheelbarrow
But now, that’s neither here nor there;
It’s time for makeup, props, and hair.
The former’s apt to melt in air
So hot and humid. Also, there
Is trouble singing out of doors.
It’s not so bad for terpsichores!
A microphone check! I got a vid,
Though from my sight the stage’s half-hid.
[Use hid for hidden? Grammar rotten—?
[Used by Bilbo ‘case you’ve forgotten!]
And there’s one thing I’m thinking of:
Holly just rhymes love with…love!.
“Don’t just stand there. Let’s get to it!”
One more example, you’ll intuit.
This is a journal, plus a poem;
Seen one? Now you’ll always know ‘em.
Sitting here, the time just drags,
Guarding over all these bags.
On every surface here, extreme
Amounts of advertising teem—
Just look around you…you can glimpse
The product-prostitutes and pimps
For movies, cell phones, lipstick, snacks
(All subject to a hefty tax)
And now the time will soon arrive!
Though I’m so bushed…barely alive…
[TO BE CONTINUED!]
Cleopatrick
April 29, 2011
2 May 2011 • Day 29 NaPo NaPo 2011 Taipei commentary my life ORIGINALS