2022 · NaPoWriMo

“The Mourne Wall”

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“The Mourne Wall”

Pivot around a structure that stretches on

There seems no end in it

Hard to tell what is being kept out and kept in

Meant to guard against harm

But harm boils up when idly walking by

Sinister sadness picks away

Left with an expanse of nothingness

Room enough for all of the pain

All of it

Then a bit more

Walking along the wall

Again uncertain of which side is the right side to be on

Frost contended that good fences make good neighbors

Impassible, endless walls make great hermits

2022 · NaPoWriMo

Cú Chulainn

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“Cú Chulainn”

Society provides a template

The template requires attention to detail and strict adherence

The infrastructure upon which society stands is perpetuated by those building things using the template

The mob gets upset with the infrastructure and decides to change the template

The infrastructure fails to support the society that exists because the template that instructs the society how to perpetuate building has changed

People are mad, because the mob decided to change the template without thinking about the consequences of how society would be supported if the template was changed

The mob eats itself because there is no one to protect it from itself because society does not exist any longer

People range around in constant states of rage and mania

Berserkers

Society provides an imperfect template

Society provides a stage upon which the actions happen

For better or worse, we are society

 

2022 · NaPoWriMo

“Banshee”

Banshee
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“Banshee”

Consumed in a fire of despair.

Wanton warning full of fear.

Screeching.

Screeching.

Wailing withal wondrous wept.

Announcing end in a breath.

No glass ceiling guarding death.

Screaming.

Screaming.

Harping harpy so inclined.

Wettest blanket of mankind.

Hope it’s me she doesn’t find.

Screeching. Screeching.

Screaming. Screaming.

 

 

 

2022 · NaPoWriMo

“Nuada Airgetlám”

High King
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“Nuada Airgetlám”

Is it preferable to possess one silver arm?

Or, more preferable to possess a silver tongue?

Sitting on a lonely throne,

Trusting not a single one.

Warring factions.

Lasting actions.

Consequences can’t be undone.

First in line, of a line.

A pound of flesh,

Paid to vice.

Settling peace upon the mound,

Dead stacked upon the ground.

A battle lost, an armless army arming itself.

The skill of gods to hit refill.

As the light of dawn illuminates the souls and boddy bods.

Planting crops to grow.

Using the seeds of dead soldiers.

 

 

 

 

2022 · NaPoWriMo

“Lámfada”

“Longhand Mist” ©️C.P. Hickey

“Lámfada”

It’s the longhand reach

That exceeds the grasp

Such things can only be calculated deliberately

Trying as one might

The might of effort

Required

Not matched

But, they sure do appreciate a good try.

Whatever the outcome might be.