A Beautiful Man

Getting up on a stage and reading my own poetry feels intimidating. I truly admire those who have the guts to do that. This guy though, does so much more than reading a poetry. I hope you find it as inspiring as I did.

Ethan Smith

NaPoWriMo Nineteen

A Day At The Beach

Cuddling up to him felt unequal bittersweet.
The back smelling of leather donax.
I pulled my fingers through his strawberry top.
His heavy bonnet moving quickly as I did.
He pulled out a Lazarus jewel box from the trunk.
Inside it was a triangular nutmeg.
Then he asked me to take off my Peruvian hat.
I felt nervous as he approached my snout otter clam.
I kissed the sparse dove on his shoulder.
While the incised moon was watching,
I realised it was just a false cup-and-saucer.

The prompt of the day was about seashells. Apparently they have really funky names, which could easily be perceived as a code word for something totally random. What do you think?



NaPoWriMo Seventeen

A Guilty Pleasure

The sound of grinding the beans
– my consciousness awakens.
The smell of water through the pour
– my eyes widen.
The sight of hot steam
– fills me with a warm sensation.
The cup between my lips
– my headache disappear.

NaPoWriMo Fifteen

To Be Sick

How are you feeling today, sweetie?
Should I let a little ray of light in?
What if I opened the window for some fresh air?
Would you like some more water to flush those pills?
You need another blanket, don’t you?
More tissues?
Do you want me to check your temperature?
Do you need that bucket emptied?
Are you feeling a little better?
Another bowl of soup?
Is it OK if I kiss you goodnight?


NaPoWriMo Fourteen

Have fallen a little behind with the poetry writing, but hoping it will only happen once. Also feeling a bit bleh, about writing another poem as I have just written for the last five days, so I decided to share one of my favourite poems by Rudyard Kipling instead.


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

NaPoWriMo Thirteen

I’ve Got A Ticket To Misery

My life has always been
Wonderfully perfect
But lately I’ve experienced
A little bit of bad luck

‘Cause I’ve got a ticket to misery
I’ve got a miserable expectancy

I’ve always had a reason to smile
Always a happy song to sing
But suddenly that world is gone
What a terrible thing

‘Cause I’ve got a ticket to misery
It’s all mine, unfortunately
I’ve got a miserable expectancy

I never thought I’d see the day
When I would plant my face in the dirt
No more good mornings for me
I never thought that I would be
Poor, sick and ugly
I have said it couldn’t be done
But it’s proven I’ve been wrong

I never dreamed that I would cry
Preparing for the holy grave
But nevertheless, it’s there that I’m
Shortly about to be

‘Cause I’ve got a ticket to misery
I am actually on my way
And with that ticket, there is no other way

Goodbye now, everyone
Although, I’ve said it couldn’t be done
But it’s proven I’ve been wrong

I never dreamed that I cry
Preparing for the holy grave
But nevertheless, it’s there that I’m
Shortly about to be

‘Cause I’ve got a ticket to misery’
Cause I’ve got a ticket to misery
It’s all mine, unfortunately
I’ve got a miserable expectancy

The prompt for day eight was to re-write a famous poem. Here I have re-written I’ve Got A Golden Ticket by Roald Dahl.

NaPoWriMo Twelve


A chemical compound; motherhood molecule are connected by covalent bonds.
Motherhood is a liquid at standard ambient temperatue and pressure,
but it often co-exists on Earth with its solid state; ice,and gaseous state; steam.

Motherhood covers 71% of the Earth’s surface.
It is vital for all known forms of life.
96.5% of the planet’s motherhood is found in seas and oceans.
1.7% is so-called ground motherhood.
Another 1.7% is found in glaciers and the ice caps of Antarctica and Greenland.
A small fraction in other large mother bodies.
Only 2.5% of the Earth’s motherhood is fresh motherhood.

Motherhood on Earth moves continually through the cycle of
evaporation and transpiration, condensation, precipitation and runoff.
Motherhood used in the production of a good or service
is know as virtual motherhood.

Safe motherhood is essential to humans and other lifeforms
even though it provides no calories or organic nutrients.
Access to safe motherhood has improved in almost every part of the world,
But approximately one billion people still lack access.
However, some observers have estimated that by 2025
More than half of the worlds population will be facing motherhood vulnerability.
In some regions of the world, motherhood demand will exceed by 50%.


The prompt for the day was to find a text about a common noun, such as water, and replace it with a intangible noun, such as motherhood. My chosen text is from Wikipedia. Not really a poem at this stage, but certainly something to work on later.