NaPoWriMo Day Twenty


Lightening thrower,

word whistler,

skin changer,

ink bruiser,

heart stealer,

tongue twister,

world burner,

flesh scorcher,

bloodied carnivore,

soul consumer.

Soft whisperer,

half shadow,

warm sheets,

safe harbour.

Heart stealer.

We’re now two thirds of the way through NaPoWriMo so only ten poems left to write! If you want to check out my contribution for yesterday’s prompt then you can read Not So Green Fingers here or, if you’d like, listen to it here.

It was one of my first successful attempts to upload a full poetry video to YouTube so I’d love to hear your feedback.

NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen

Not So Green Fingers

One. Remember the rose plant you bought two weeks ago

Two. Pray

to something you only half believe in,

that it’s still alive.

Three. Quickly brush away the dead leaves,

crunchy and browning in a circle,

and after, fill the bin with odds and sods,

to hide your failure at tending a living thing.

Four. Water it!

But remember, too much and it will die

somewhat more than it already has.

Five. Let it sit,

then dispose of any remaining water,

still staining the saucer,

culled from the kitchen cupboard because

you don’t own any pretty plant pots.

Six. Buy a plant pot,

because the saucer doesn’t fit on the windowsill,

and sunlight would probably be a good thing

seeing as photosynthesis,

is pretty important for these plant types.

Seven. Pray and hope a little more.

Who knows?

Green fingers might be something you grown into.


NaPoWriMo Day Eighteen


Twemlows Cottage

The sound of home is my father holding a blade of grass,

between fingers and mouth,

blowing long, sharp shrieks across the garden.

The way sand and soil crunch beneath a spade

and the long, drizzling slide of dirt,

falling as it’s lifted out of a pit.

The old creak of rusted trampoline springs,

groaning on each take-off,

each landing,

snapping back with the crack, snap

of static jumping jacks

to small, flushed hands.

It is the hum of rally-cars on Sundays

down the old airfield runways,

and the drone that vibrates my skull

as the parachute club plane skims by low,

doors thrown open,

the blue behind paint splattered.

It’s the heavy stillness over the nights

and the low-level whisper of the A41,

still muttering odd words at three am

while I sleep, content.

It is the sameness of it all,

day after night after day after night.

It is home.


NaPoWriMo Day Seventeen

Day Seventeen for NaPoWriMo and today’s optional prompt was to find the nearest specialised dictionary and take ten words to use in a poem. Apparently the only specialised dictionary I own is ‘500 Words You Should Know’ by Caroline Taggart. Using a random number generator I pulled out ten words which you can find the definitions to in the glossary below.They weren’t the easiest to cram together in a poem.

An Eponymous Man

I asked him how his day had been over coffee,

I did not ask for him to delineate his life

over three straight hours,

until the room became crepuscular

and I had heard all about his useless amanuensis.

I learnt how in a time prelapsarian

he apparently wasn’t so subfusc,

his need for the material

hadn’t been so voracious,

and his tendency to be pejorative

was minimal.

He informed me that his job was


I nodded politely and smiled,

not quite trusting my mouth to move

or even open.

‘In his mind,’ I told my friend later,

he’s eponymous to everyone’s story.

She looked at me and frowned.

‘He’s what?’

‘He’s an arse,’ I said.

‘An utter arse.’


Amanuensis: A secretary or literary assistant.

Crepuscular: Pertaining to dusk; dimly lit.

Delineate: To draw a clear outline of [both literally and figuratively] or to portray something clearly in words]

Dolorous: The musical instruction doloroso means the piece is to be played mournfully; if such music affected you deeply you might have a dolorous expression on your face or even be reduced to weeping dolorously.

Eponymous: An eponym [from the Greek for ‘significant name’] is the name of the person after whom a place, discovery, invention or the like is named.

Esoteric: From the Greek for inner or within, the original meaning is ‘understandable only to the initiated, those with special knowledge’.

Pejorative: From the Latin for worse, this often describes a word that carries unpleasant and disparaging connotation.

Prelapsarian: Literally means ‘before the fall’ and can be used to refer to a state of extreme innocence or naivety.

Subfusc: Dark or gloomy.

Voracious: Greedy, though not exclusively for food.


NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen

Outside My Window

The house is boiling

and the windows are open,

thrown upwards in desperation,

in the hopes air might move

and steal a little of this heat

away from us.

You are outside,

and I know this because

thunk, thunk, thunk,

is the only breeze coming in.

You have relegated the bin

to foam cylinder thing holder,

while you and a mate

take swings

with samurai swords.

I stay in the office,

eyes on my computer.

I will clean up the mess later.