NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 30

noiselessly I slip inside
less substantial than a shadow
and take up residence in your soul

feeding on your doubts
gorging on your insecurities
choking on your hope
smothering your every dream
slowly bleeding you dry

everything you fear I am
unavoidable as the night

I am decay, I am Death
I am Time
     and I am coming for you

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 29

the words mean nothing
the promises even less

the look tells all
the touch even more

your furtive glance
your trembling lips
your hestitant touch
     say everything you can't


© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 28

my head aches with the effort
of keeping my thoughts in check

my jaw aches with the effort
of keeping the anger inside

my fist aches with the effort
of keeping it from lashing out

my body aches with the effort
of not murdering you

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 27

creeping shadows dwell
     night street
          in darkness muted

lamplight
     safety glows

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 26

screaming out loud
     in silence

prisoner to my mind
     trapped within

in a living corpse
     dead and dying

raging against the life
     destroying me

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 25

black
blackness                    sightless
dark
darkness                     fearful

black
blackness
                                   I am sightless.

dark
darkness
                                  I am fearful.

blood
bloody
                                  I am bleeding.

dead
deadly
                                  I am Death.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 24

full to bursting with things
     I cannot express

barely contained, barely contrained
    full to bursting

emotions and desires, thoughts and feelings
     barely contained

I struggle to keep them under control
     emotions and desires

warring within, fighting for dominance
     I struggle

I cannot express the helplessness
     lost inside myself

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 23

today.

there is nothing
     but today.

there is no yesterday.
     (nothing but today.)

there is no tomorrow.
     (nothing but today.)

today.
    there is no...

          no...

there is nothing.

today.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 22

Fighting
     This endless battle
          With myself
          Against myself

Never winning
     Always losing
         Against myself
         To myself

©  Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 21

Trapped
Forever
Screaming
     Inside my mind

Locked
Forever
Screaming
     Out in frustration

Bound
Forever
Crying
     Out for help

Caged
Forever
Crying
     Inside my mind

© Wondra Vanian

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 20

crouched
beneath your bed
     in the shadows hidden
          lurking beast of nightmares
will feed upon your terror

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 19

darkness
 like a curtain falls
     across the land
          all the creatures
tremble in its wake

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 18

When I broke my arm
I thought physical pain
was the worst pain there was.

When I broke my heart
I thought emotional pain
was the worst pain there was.

When my mind was broken
I learned feeling nothing
is the worst pain there is.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

My Favourite Poems: Langston Hughes, Harlem Dance Hall

I came across this poem recently in Reading and Studying Literature and I fell in love with it.

"Harlem Dance Hall" by Langston Hughes

It had no dignity before.
But when the band began to play,
Suddenly the earth was there,
     And flowers,
     Trees,
     And air,
And like a wave the floor - 
That had no dignity before!

That's music for you. Well... for me, anyway.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 17

Breathe.
     In.
          And out.

Just keep breathing.
     In.
          And out.

It's okay -
     In.
          And out.

if all you can do-
     In.
          And out.

today-
     In.
          And out.

is just keep breathing.
     In.
          And out.

Just keep breathing.
     In.
          And out.

Tomorrow you can try to smile.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

Ways to Celebrate: Enter a poetry competition.

There's always a poetry competition happening somewhere - so why not enter?

Like everyone else who has written poetry for years but, until recently, has kept them hidden away in a folder under their bed, I've never had the courage to enter a poetry competition. I always thought that those competitions were for "real" poets - you know, hardcore types who go to dark bars in black clothes, smoking clove cigarettes.

Recently I came to realize that I am a "real" poet. I consistently write and read poetry. If that doesn't make me a "real" poet, what does? (I actually did use to smoke clove cigarettes - but that was college, I was a literature major and, you know... everyone was doing it!)

So this year, I'm taking the plunge! I've selected two of my favourite poems and I'm entering them into a few competitions. Maybe I'm not as good as the people who will win, maybe the judges will find my metaphor lacking, maybe I'll come dead last - but at least I'll have tried.

If you too feel like taking the plunge into the world of poetry competitions, here are a few to start with:

Poetry on the Lake XIII Int'l Poetry Competition Closing Date: 22 April, 2013
The Fifth Annual Red Shed Poetry Competition Closing Date: 26 April, 2013
Poetic Republic Poetry Prize Closing Date: 30 April, 2013 
Southport Writer's Circle Int'l Poetry Competition Closing Date: 30 April, 2013
Ver Poets Open Competition Closing Date: 30 April, 2013 
The Poetry London Competition Closing Date: 1 May, 2013
The Poetry Box Int'l Dark Poetry Silver Cup Trophy Award Closing Date: 1 May, 2013 
Alsager Summer Festival Poetry Competition Closing Date: 10 May, 2013
The Melita Hume Poetry Prize Closing Date: 13 May, 2013
Mary Charman-Smith May Poetry Competition Closing Date: 15 May, 2013
Human Rights Consortium Poetry Anthology Closing Date: 15 May, 2013
Mslexia Women's Poetry Competition Closing Date: 17 June, 2013

(These are UK based but many accept entrants from all over the world.)

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 16

spinning, swirling, spiralling
          out of control
          out of time

          out of my fucking mind!

delusioin, disgust, disease
          sick of life
          sick of death

          sick of being so damned sick!

© Wondra Vanian 2012

Types of Poems

There are many different types of poems - from haiku to acrostic, from ballad to ode. If you're going to read, study, or write poetry, it's good to be able to tell the difference between them. Hopefully this will help.

Acrostic

An acrostic poem is one where the letters (first or last) spell out a word or a phrase.

Ballad

A poem that tells a story.

Blank Verse

A poem in iambic pentameter (lines of 5 feet when each foot is two syllables long: one stressed, one unstressed).

Cinquain

A cinquain is made up of 5 lines that do not rhyme. It looks like this:
Line 1: 2 syllables
Line 2: 4 Syllables
Line 3: 6 Syllables
Line 4: 8 syllables
Line 5: 2 Syllables

Epic

An epic is a long poem that tells a story that usually has to do with heroes and heroic deeds.

Epigram

A short, satirical poem that is witty and usually has a funny ending.

Free Verse

Free verse can be rhymed or unrhymed but doesn't have any set meter.

Haiku

A haiku is a short, unrhymed poem that originated in Japan. It looks like this:
Line 1: 5 syllables
Line 2: 7 syllables
Line 3: 5 syllables

Limerick

A limerick is a funny, light hearted poem and can be nonsensical. It is made up of five lines that rhyme. The rhyme scheme is aabba (Lines 1,2, and 5 rhyme and lines 3 and 4 rhyme).

Lyric

Lyric poems express the feelings and emotions of the writer.

Ode

An ode is written to be sung in honour of a particular thing.

Sonnet

A sonnet is made up of 14 lines. Each line is 10 syllables long. The rhyme scheme is ab ab, cdcd, efef, gg.

There are lots of other types and subcategories, of course, but this list should give you a basic understanding of the different types of poems. (And maybe give you an idea if you're stuck?) Check out poets.org for more info on any of the poems listed here and for the ones I didn't mention.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 15

lost in the swirling void
of self-doubt, self-hate
     and self-harm
spinning further down - and down
with nothing to hold on to
     and no one to catch me
all alone in a battle against myself
in this constant inward struggle
     i cannot hope to win

© Wondra Vanian 2012

Ways to Celebrate: Write a poem!

I think a lot of people avoid poetry because they have this idea that it's too complicated or too high-brow or too stuffy for them. They're wrong.

Poetry doesn't belong exclusively to the tragically dissatisfied children of the elite ruling class. It belongs to every one of us.

Write some.

If you're not sure how to get started, here's a tip: cut your heart open and let it bleed out on the paper. (That's a metaphor, by the way. Wondra's World does not condone self harm. It does condone the Metaphor Drinking Game, however, so you know what to do.)

It's as easy as that. Don't torture yourself over convention or pretense or what other people might think.

Write for yourself.

Take all those emotions you keep bottled up and get them down on paper. It doesn't have to be pretty. Hell, it doesn't even have to be good. It just needs to get written.

So do it.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 14

alone, apart, outside

last to be picked
     lonely

on the outside
     alone

no one to love
     loved by no one

ever alone, apart, outside

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 13

fear is a cancer
destroying from the inside out
      growing
          leaching
               attacking
                    spreading
until it consumes every cell of your being

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 12

at night, the world is hushed
sleeping children
whispering lovers

the dark makes us all creep
silently rushing
carefully tiptoeing

is it the hard working fathers
we fear to wake?

or is it the red eyed monster
who lurks in shadow?

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 11

inspiration does not come
with a crack of thunder
striking you down to the core

inspiration does not come
like a tidal wave
bowling you over, sweeping you away

inspiration comes
in the quiet of a winter morn
tiptoeing ever so quietly past

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 10

darkness - ever present
though the sun does shine
gnawing away at
my hope
my dreams
my identity
feeding, glutting itself
on my fears and insecurities

darkness - always there
when the sun does shine
taking away everything
my life
my heart
my mind
devouring everything I am
until there's nothing left

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 9

down, down this dark, dark spiral
ever downward, ever darker
prey to weakness, prey to fears
reaching out, reaching for - relinquishing hope
ever, ever, ever... darker
sick of life, sick of struggle
sick of being sick
inside, inside I am sick inside
on this dark, dark spiral downward
no hope to hope, no future, no nothing


© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 8

When I was a girl
I spoke with the voice of hope.
I had dreams.

When I was a maid
I spoke with the voice of certainty.
I knew my mind.

When I was a woman
I spoke with the voice of purpose.
I had ambitions.

When I was a wife
I spoke with the voice of love.
I found my soul mate.

When I was a mother
I spoke with the voice of compassion.
I loved my family.

When I was a crone
I spoke with the voice of wisdom.
I traveled the world.

Thought I am dead and cannot speak
my life holds meaning.
I left a legacy.

© Wondra Vanian 

Crafts and Crafting: DIY Magnetic Poetry Kit

In honour of NPM, I made a magnetic poetry kit out of SFX and Total Film magazines. It's unusual because I used both words and phrases (including "Galdalf the Grey").

This is a great way to celebrate National Poetry Month because it's cheap (a roll of sticky backed magnets cost me £8) and is a way to stash bust too.

The tin that I put them in came with my Marvel Superheroes Easter egg. It's the perfect size to stick in my work bag and I can use the back of either the lid or the back of the tin (or both) to create poems on.

I had so much fun making this that I picked up a Super Mario Brothers Easter egg (on sale!) for the tiny "lunch box" that came with it and I'm in the process of making another geekalicious poetry kit now.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 7

I am a body of lies.
I am a mind of half-truths.

I am a heart of remorse.
I am a soul of regret.

I am a body of lies.
I am what you have made me.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 6

Alone

But not lonely

Alive

But not living

Afraid

And also frightened

Amazed

And also amazing

I am The Contradiction


The Country's

Best and Worst

The World's

Worst and Best

I am everything

And nothing ever

I am The Contradiction

©  Wondra Vanian 2012

My Favourite Poems: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Paul Revere's Ride

"Paul Revere's Ride" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was the first poem I memorized by heart. It was back in third grade and the prize for memorizing it was a trip to see our student teacher (who was off sick) to recite the poem for her. I don't remember how many other kids in the class memorized it but I did - and I can't believe I did! What a long poem for a seven-year-old kid to remember! No, I don't know it by heart any more but it does have happy memories attached to it.

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 5

I wear a mask.

When I am with you, I wear a mask of comfort
to boost your spirits,
to ease your pain.

When I am with her, I wear a mask of scorn
to mock the weak,
to ridicule the poor.

When I am with him, I wear a mask of mirth
to play children's games,
to laugh in the sun.

When I am alone, I wear no mask at all.
I am no one.
I am nothing.

I wear a mask.

©Wondra Vanian 2012

The Importance of Being Analytical.

Poetry isn't exactly well loved among the masses. Why is that? Well, for one thing, it makes you think and that isn't always exactly well loved among the masses either. But, more specifically, it has to be thought of in very precise terms. 

What is the meter?

Is there symbolism present?

Does the presence of assonance alter the meaning?

Who wants to take a course in reading poetry just to read poetry?

Sometimes reading poetry can seem like a bit of a drag. If you want something quick and easy - that is less likely to give you a headache - you'll be more inclined to just pick up a pulp novel. Easy peasy. But, if you want something to connect to your heart and change your life forever, pick up a book of poetry.

I, for one, say "Screw you!" to reading poetry word by word, counting feet and meter, looking for hidden meaning. I read poetry because it's beautiful. Because it's dark. Because it's a song you hear with your soul, instead of your ears. There are a million reasons to read poetry and enjoy it; it shouldn't have to be limited to classrooms and open mic nights in smokey bars.

Read poetry. Enjoy it. Then go back and analyze it - if you want to.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 4

within my heart
there hides a Darkness
that no amount
of positive thinking
will chase away

along my bones
there lies a frost
that no amount
of warn embraces
will melt away

behind my eyes
there stands a wall
that no amount
of well meant words
will tear asunder

within my soul
there lives a hatred
that no amount
of your understanding
will cast aside

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 3

What princess
would choose the dark eyed villain
over the golden haired hero?

What damsel
would choose to ride her dragon
rather than have it slain?

And who
would trade their happily ever after
for an eternity of shadow?

I did.

© Wondra Vanian 2012

My Favourite Poems: Emily Dickinson, Because I could not stop for Death (479)

I promised that, during the course of National Poetry Month, I would share some of my favourite poems and poets with you. I'll start today with one of my all time favourites: "Because I could not stop for Death".

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

(It should be fairly obvious but, for peace of mind, I'll remind you that I, of course, do not own the rights to this poem.)

Even though I've read this hundreds of times, it never fails to give me a chill. Could any one handle Death with such 'Civility'? I couldn't - but this poem isn't just about Death, it's also about Life - and I have yet to (and may never) meet either with such objective serenity.

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 2

in the dark of night

when good little girls
dream of knights
in shining armour

i open my eyes wide

search the shadows
black on black
and dream of you 

© Wondra Vanian 2012

NPM 30 Day Challenge: Day 1

under the cloudless sky
i sit alone
Shadows that cannot be
creep ever closer
i stretch my arms out wide
try to hold
The Darkness at bay
already knowing
that i will lose

every place a Shadow touches
a blister grows
a festering, fear filled doubt
infecting me, poisoning me
from the inside out

i sit alone
under a cloudless sky
full of Shadows
no one else can see
i wrap my arms tight around myself
try to keep
The Darkness locked within
already knowing
that i have lost


© Wondra Vanian 2012

National Poetry Month: 30 Day Challenge

Last year I decided that I was going to take part in a 30 Day Challenge in honour of National Poetry Month 2013. The goal was to write one poem (any type) each day. I totally forgot that I had done it until very recently when I came across the notebook while cleaning.

I'm going to give myself the same 30 Day Challenge this year. (And hopefully not lose the notebook afterward.) But, in the meantime, I'll share last year's challenge with you, one poem at a time.

April is National Poetry Month!

Every year since 1996 April 1st has launched a month long celebration of poetry and poets. This year, Wondra's World is joining in the festivities! Stay tuned for my favourite poems/poets, my own poetry, poetry related memes and other web goodness - as well as the occasional Ode to Rum.

While I'm getting things up and running here I suggest you hop over to Poets.org and check out some of the ideas they have about how to celebrate National Poetry Month 2013.