NaPoWriMo 30: Wednesdays

Week after week
Wednesday waits for me
with words of love
If we are within reasonable distance:
Spoken, whispered into my ear
smiled at me or
hummed to the melody
of a song we like
Over 10000 km apart
my evening was your morning
and sometimes Wednesday slipped into
Thursday for me, listening to
your voice on the phone
making me blush,
or dance
or simply smile into my soul.
And then Wednesdays are maildays
not as romantic as perfumed paper
in thick parchment envelopes
with dark drops of ink
forming accidental heart-blots –
just letter’s modern cousin – the e-mail,
but it still resurrects that feeling
of anticipation, excitement, quickening my heart-beat
when I see your name in the inbox
then words appear, words to be read and reread
again in times of loneliness and absence
words to warm me inside
week after week
Wednesday is our day!


Today is the final day of NaPoWriMo, this month of poetry is almost over. The last prompt was to write about a recurring event, something that happens over and over. One of my week-structuring events is the arrival or writing of an e-mail on Wednesday.

Ein letztes Gedicht für NaPoWriMo. Heute war unser Thema, über Dinge zu schreiben, die sich wiederholen. Für mich ist das zum Beispiel das mittwöchliche Öffnen und Lesen oder Schreiben einer E-mail, voller Poesie und Gefühlen und Alltag.


NaPoWriMo 29: Watchful

Like ice
they reflect the world
from their polished surface
keeping hidden the dark depths
of the rivers within
spectres like wisps of cloud
traveling lightly in their mirrors
be they storm, saphire,
water, lightning, tea
in color
Thoughts flitting across the surface
like flat stones flipping
across a lake
In dark nights
I see the stars reflected
in yours.


I have a book of poetry which is illustrated with quilted pictures and artwork in cloth and fabric, and one of my favorite poems from it is „How to be a friend“ by Pat Lowery Collins, because it is so on the point – short and clear. The problem is, there are no concrete nouns in it. So I chose instead another poem I hold dearly, which was written for me, and from it, the word eyes, to work with today’s prompt.

Heute sollten wir uns aus einem Lieblingsgedicht ein konkretes Nomen aussuchen, zu diesem brainstormen und daraus ein neues Gedicht formen. Mein Wort ist „Augen“ (also auf Englisch ;) ) aus einem für mich geschriebenen Gedicht, das aber auch auf Englisch ist. Außerdem hab ich das Wort bei der Bildersuche im Web als Anfrage genutzt und daraus weitere Ideen gezogen.

NaPoWriMo 28: Tired Clouds

Breathe in breathe out
mind’s a cloud
thoughts so loud
all a crowd
days are so long
full of song
full of wrong
full of time
not quite, but rhyme
write to clear clouds
inside it shouts
stop! – Go to bed
eyes are dead
tired – day’s
end now – ways
still to walk but
not now – now what?
sleep. . .


Today’s prompt was to write a skeltonic, that is a poem without a clear rhyme scheme and using dipodic verse. At the moment I am really tired, so I guess that shows in my poem – the short lines help though.

Momentan bin ich einfach nur sehr müde, das spiegelt sich wohl auch im Gedicht. Aber die Gedichtform, die heute vorgestellt wurde, passt auch irgendwie dazu: kurze Verse, zwei Betonungen pro Vers (hoffe, dass ich das hinbekommen habe…) und kein klares Reimschema.

NaPoWriMo 27: Childhood Tastes

My childhood tasted like
peanut butter and honey
melting on toast and
in my mouth
mingling with cherries
under hot italian sun

My childhood tasted like
salt on daddy’s skin
When he came home
from biking
we would cling to him
and lick it off his arms

My childhood tasted like
poppyseed-cake once a year
marking the beginning of a new one
with sweet paradise cream
and poppy seeds stuck
between teeth

My childhood tasted like
Dentinox on hurting teeth
Camomile sweetness and
that something else
took the hurt away

My childhood tasted like
gatorade and snow
winter slushies tangy
artificial sweetness
collected in plastic cups
then straight under the tap

My childhood tasted like
special Christmas Cookies
were the best before baking,
together with that flavor
of mischief and secrecy


Today we were prompted to write about taste. Actually this morning I had the taste of rain in my mouth (guess what? It’s raining here ;) ) – but then something smelled like one of my childhood tastes and I decided to write about that instead.

Heute war das Thema Geschmack. Darüber hatte ich noch nicht viel geschrieben, normalerweise sind ja visuelle und auditive Eindrücke stärker. Trotzdem gibt es einige Geschmäcker, die für mich mit Erinnerung verbunden sind, mit Kindheit. Darüber habe ich heute geschrieben.

NaPoWriMo 26: Why chalk?

Layers of rock
are books to me
classifications of life
they speak of ages past
eonothems and erathems long gone
Ordovician newly-born plants
speak of first landgreens
Silurian fish leave me
jaw-open, as they populate the seas
Permian concludes in a catastrophe
but flies fly first
I could continue lecturing,
but that is not what bothers me
still one layer remains
a mystery to me
It’s mainly what we call
codedmixtemium when
apes must have ruled that planet
scraps of what might have been
first technology show up – held together
by thin metal hair and flat shapes
a puzzle we have yet to solve
But what puzzles me most – personally –
is the chalk
It doesn’t belong there
should be cretaceous
down where huge reptilian bones are buried
first delicate tree leaves reside
and the coccoliths and dinoflagellates
which bloomed in the water
and became chalk
much later
Especially not pressed into these condensed
cylindrical forms
flaking off at touch
– some kind of early cultural object,
decoration or jewelry?
Sometimes a time machine would be useful
for us archaeologists specialised on

Today’s prompt was to write about an object from the present from the point of view of a future scientist. Since I was at university at the time of reading the prompt I chose one of the first things I noticed: a piece of chalk. Thanks to a friend of mine studying environmental geology, who helped me out with some of the geological information!

Heute sollten wir aus der Perspektive eines Wissenschaftlers der Zukunft über ein Objekt aus der Gegenwart schreiben und da ich gerade in der Uni war, als ich auf nach der heutigen Idee geschaut habe, war es eben ein Stück Kreide, das mir ins Auge gefallen ist. Vielen Dank an einen Freund, der mir mit Infos zur Geologie ausgeholfen hat!

NaPoWriMo 25: Purse of Words

Carmine – the name of a book
2.7 x 12.5 x 17.5 in centimeters
nearly three years in time
worlds in words
my life in bits and pieces,
traces of ink
It was made to look ancient
imitation of a 1688 binding
metal clasp hugging the pages
red ribbon marks the time and place
Time and I made it look old
worn corners and blots are witnesses
of a journey – mine.
It was and is a place to keep
words of worthiness, secrets, memories
my purse of words
It was my diary when paper was rare,
a physical vessel for my emotions
when nothing else was there
to pour them into,
the ear to hear those whispered thoughts
I hardly dare admit to myself
dreams, touches, fears
encoded in old symbols
making it hard to read
even for me
Pressed flowers between pages
resemble physical reminders of places
I loved
Notes, ideas and empty pages –
the pauses –
complete the story – mine
Pages end,
but the story will go on.

When given the prompt to write about small personal spaces, I first thought to write about my actual purse. Then I went through it and next to coins, old receipts and ids, I found a poem given only to me. And I decided I’d rather write about my book of poetry, the beautiful book I write in.

Als Anregung gab es heute einen Verweis auf das Buch „The Poetics of Space“ (lose übersetzt „Die Poesie des Raums/des Orts“) und die Idee über kleine definierte Räume zu schreiben. Einige Beispiele waren auch genannt: Die Geldbörse, das (Kinder)zimmer… Zunächst wollte ich gleich über Ersteres schreiben und habe mich mit dem Inhalt meines Geldbeutels näher auseinander gesetzt und neben Münzen, Scheinen, einem alten Ausweis und Belegen auch ein Gedicht nur für mich gefunden, zerlesen und fragil, aber noch da. Und habe beschlossen, lieber über mein Gedichtbuch zu schreiben, das einiges mehr an Poesie für mich enthält.

Zweisamkeit – Gemeinsamzeit

Zweisamkeit – Gemeinsamzeit hätte ich gern
mit dir zu zweit, doch du bist fern
Tage rinnen wie Sand
durch die Hand
allein ist vorbei
bald sind wir dann zwei
und haben gemeinsam alle Zeit der Welt
Zweisamkeit – Gemeinsamzeit, die uns zusammen hält

Dieses Gedicht ist quasi ein Nachtrag, ich hatte am 18. April erzählt, wie ich auf das Thema zum Neologismen-Gedicht gekommen bin. Dieses hier ist zum damaligen Prompt zu „visual poetry“ entstanden.

I mentioned this poem as my inspiration for neologisms a few days back, on April 18th. Back then I found the words by „leafing“ through e-mails… I like the thought of poetry inspiring poetry inspiring poetry and so on.