NaPoWriMo Monday, April 16,2012 Day 16/30

April 15, 2012

Monday, April 16th, 2012 NaPoWriMo Day 16
“This will only happen after you’ve been writing and failing for a good long time.
Then you develop a kind of critical sense about what you write.
You can tell when something is good,but it would be just as good in somebodys work too.
You want to hold out for those things only you could say.”–James Dickey

If you’ve been keeping at this… writing a poem a day, using your creative juices, taking on the challenges of prompts….it’s now time to take a little bit of a breather… not much of one mind you…. But we will start with something that’s already been written.

Take one (or two) of the poem (s) you wrote during the first 10 days of NaPoWriMo… and let’s renovate it. I mean lets turn it inside out, twist it, turn it and re-make it into something very different from what it once was. It doesn’t even have to resemble the original poem. You get to take it and do what you want with it. Use at least 50 percent of the old words in your new poem (or more). Try turning it into a form poem or different form poem if you’d like.

DAY 15 PROMPT POEMS (POEM inspired by current event item/story)
Church Pac
By Christopher J. Jarmick

At the intersection
of church and state
where no taxes are paid
sign a petition,
endorse a candidate.

From the bully pulpit
Preacher proclaims :
God says it’s your duty
To repeal a law or two.

out of the temple.
Install red lights at
Church and State.


More Men who don’t read directions.
By Christopher J. Jarmick.

Prostitute Party
tonight at Hotel Caribe!
Extracurricular delight
for a pack of lonely men.

We’d never have read about it
In Sunday’s paper,
except one secret service agent
didn’t send his pay-date home
before curfew.

Didn’t he read hotel policy?
Can’t have un-registered late
Night guests in your room
Past 7 a.m.

Prostitution may be legal
in Columbia’s Bocagrande district
at the seaside resort.
but it violates proper Agent
conduct. Common sense
should have told him security
operations and prostitutes
don’t mix.

A few drinks between friends
He didn’t need to drive,
He wouldn’t get caught.
What could possibly happen?

Should have read the manual
or at least the sign.

7:00 a.m. curfews strictly enforced.

Working Past Retirement
By Teresa Jarmick

She was retired,

With Sterling, (all name, no money)

Morning coffee


Dancing with the Stars

She fought his emphysema

He smoked.

Small house, no yard,

Sterling left his half to her.

Sonja, her beautiful brown haired daughter,

Left also with a cigarette hanging out of her

Mouth saying, “I love him, Mom, but he

Doesn’t want anything to do with my kids.

Watch ‘em for the weekend please while we

Figure it out.”

She looked at the packed car,

Knew the sums had been

Totaled minus two.

Tears, heartache, school registration,

Sleeping bags, cereal, shoes,

Books, coats, lunches, jeans

Shoes, socks, snacks, bus fares,

Movies, beds, clothes, food,

Pizza, tears, heartaches, birthdays,


She works Saturdays at the farmers’ market,

Paid in fresh veges and food. All three of them

Love that job.

Tuesdays and Thursdays at

La Belle Hair Salon.

Mondays and Fridays, volunteers at Marie’s

School, she’s twelve now.

Wednesday evening, library assistant, three

Hours a week, mandatory

homework time for Marie. Marcus completes

Applications for colleges, jobs, scholarships,

Financial aid. They take the bus together.

She was retired.

DAY 14 PROMPT POEMS (Septolets)

Chris and Teresa Jarmick

Steam baskets
Fluorescent fixtures
Vinyl seats

Blinding light
Score-card menus
Trendy mall eatery

Chris and Teresa Jarmick

Spicy sause
Hand-made, fresh

Chris and Teresa Jarmick

Bad hair
Money tower
Shrill and famous
Boardroom histrionics
Charity Event
You’re Fired!

Chris and Teresa Jarmick

More scarves
Rocker grandpa


By Teresa Jarmick
Thirteen letters scary, it
keeps kids awake in bed shivering
lets alligators roam inside houses
creaks floor boards
amplifies silence
spreads like a virus:

The root of the word Poetry is from the Greek ποιέω (poieō), “‘I
make’”). , poiesis, meaning a “making” or ‘creation’
Poetry is Everything
©2012 Christopher J. Jarmick All Rights Reserved


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