A NaNoWriMo How-To

You’re taking part in NaNoWriMo? Want to find success?

Get settled in, resigned to live November under stress.

So, first things, first, you’ve got to start, or else you can’t complete,

for if one doesn’t start, one faces guaranteed defeat.

Just pick a plot and go with it, or else be left behind.

And do not stop to edit, yet, although you’ll be inclined.

Tell all your friends and family. Let Facebook know it, too.

You’ll feel much more beholden and be apt to carry through.

 Put stickers on your calendar; mark days you reach your goal.

You’ll want to keep momentum once you see you’re on a roll.

You’ll write it out so quickly, you will have a great excuse

for why it’s kind of cheesy (you can put that fact to use).

Continue writing, even if you’ve nothing else to say,

as sometimes brilliance happens when one plows on through that way.

The most important thing is to remember, this is fun!

Write 50,000 words within November, and you’ve won! ūüôā

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Don’t Die, Halloween!

Every year’s more quiet. Halloween might disappear.

If only I could prove¬†my pumpkin patch is quite sincere ….

When I grew up, dressing out in costumes was such fun!

By now, alarmist worry-warts have very nearly won.

Guess who poisons children? Usually someone that they know.

That fact doesn’t matter, as the dwindling numbers show.

Come back, Halloween, and bring some lady bugs in tights.

Send me tiny cowboys on the most fun of all nights!

Vampires, witches, werewolves, or a salesman in a suit …

I just love to see them all and hand out chocolate loot.

Babes in arms in pea pods? Welcome! Please knock on my door.

My kids are too big now; they don’t dress up anymore.

So few children ring our bell, we may not even try.

Plus, I overestimate the candy bowl supply;

on top of wishing more kids would be trick-or-treating bound,

I wind up eating unclaimed treats, and gain another pound!

I’d love, instead, to put them in a mummy’s candy sack.

But I guess times are changing and there’s just no going back.

Playing God

To have this kind of power is a rush.

It’s far more satisfying than a game.

Their lives and dreams are mine to build or crush.

I say exactly what is in a name.

I’d give them what they want, but that’s a bore.

The conflict is what drives the story on.

Just when they almost bust, I pile on more,

then drag them through a dazzling denouement.

At times they beg and plead, but I won’t bend.

They’ll suffer if they must to tell the tale.

I’ll work them right until the bitter end.

I love to orchestrate each last detail!

The thrill of playing god intoxicates.

I coast high on the wave that it creates.

That Thing You Do

You’ve learned to do some brilliant things for me.

You try whatever goofy stuff I like …

evincing you’re my loyal devotee

by spending time on what it is I hype.

The fact that you’re resolved to pet my hair

stands out among them all, for it’s the best.

It causes me to go limp in midair,

to flop, immobilized, down on your chest.

I’ll stay there for as long as you’ll allow,

and bask in every stroke that you impart,

your fingers brushing gently on my brow;

the chills send warmth that travels to my heart.

You make a point to fit it in your day,

a kindness my love hopes it doth repay.

Procrastination

Procrastination rears its ugly head, prepared to strike.

He has intent to slow me down and bring me to a halt.

But his deliberation works more quickly than he’d like,

and I complete my goal, his hesitation most at fault.

Dear Plot Bunny …

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† Dear Plot Bunny …

                Hop away and leave me here in peace.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† You’re usurping precious time. Your antics have to cease.

         You can wait till next year, or adoption is a choice.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† Either way, I don’t have time to give your cause a voice.

¬†¬†¬†¬† ¬† ¬† Nano’s hard enough without distractions such as you.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† It’s an order, not a question. Go ahead, now. Shoo!

NaNoWriMo Approacheth

Yes, NaNoWriMo comes again in just a short few days.

I’ll stay up long nights typing in a caffeine-powered craze.

We will not have clean laundry and our supper comes in bags,

as long as I can say my target word count never lags.

The trash will pile and wait a while for me to take it out.

What’s left inside the fridge will turn to green and start to sprout.

Our cats become proactive or they may not get their food.

They must meow to shake me from my focused writing mood.

At our Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll inhale my meal and dart;

for when the month’s end nears, I reach the most intensive part.

Sweet pumpkin pie will fuel me for the climax of my book,

it being the one thing I’ll stop to do my part and cook.

For now, I work my outline so I’ll know how it will end.

Or, maybe I’ll find out that it won’t go as I intend.

My research time is winding down and drawing to a close.

There shall be great technology in what I will compose.

A world like none have never known is in my brain this year.

So, welcome back, November! I’m excited you are near!

blue sky, go away

now he hopes for cloudy days

they come when skies are blue

drone strikes set his town ablaze

informing his world view

school will wait or disappear

his life is torn apart

every moment filled with fear

that we put in his heart

Awake

I don’t want to close my eyes and fall asleep tonight.

Nightmares come; I spend those hours prepared for fight or flight.

I can’t wake or take control, a victim through and through.

Fear and I match step in our horrendous pas de deux.

As I lay there, poised to dream, I try to focus thoughts.

I think of people I adore, and happy, pleasant plots.

Lately, it won’t work. I dream of danger, always scared,

fighting off some beast with which I’m violently¬†ensnared.

It takes so damned long to shake the feelings nightmares leave.

Knowing they’re not real has always failed to bring reprieve.

So I stay up far too late, avoiding what I need.

Sleep comes with a price which I won’t easily concede.

Then I spend my days much more exhausted than I should,

straining my poor sanity and all that it’s withstood.

I perpetuate the cycle I’d most like to break.

And since it’s all the same, I think, tonight, I’ll stay awake.

Home

While you were gone, I tried filling my time;

I wrote out the ways that I missed you (in rhyme).

I sought out my friends for some coffee and talk.

I even tried taking a cat for a walk.

And, feeling our house was the best place to be,

to stay when you’re ever so far ‚Äôway from me,

I rushed on back to this place we have made,

and did feel relief by your likeness conveyed.

Now that you’re here, though, the difference is stark,

so much so that I feel the need to remark:

I was still homesick, although I was home,

as much as if I had continued to roam.

It’s just a house, even with all your things.

The feel of a home is what your presence brings.

October Lives!

Autumn’s in the air! October leaves crunch ‚Äôneath my feet.

There’re tasty things like pecan pie and candy corn to eat.

Decorations burst forth from the boxes where they’re stored.

I practice fancy footwork (to evade the zombie hoard).

Sweater weather makes me smile, no matter how I feel,

as do the leaves a’fallin’ and the branches they reveal.

I love the way my kitty cats grow in their winter coats,

and how they purr to taste a bit of egg nog on their throats,

sculpting pumpkins all night long and roasting up the seeds,

nostalgic, jostling hayrides pulled by chestnut, frothing steeds.

Not too cold or hot, October breeze blows through my screen,

as I count the moments till the night of Halloween!

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