Day 29 x2 "Recipe for a Day" Write a poem in the form of a recipe using ingredients from your current day—coffee, conversation, silence, traffic, etc. C.L.A.S Delightfully Mundane We indulge in philosophy with each other usually early mornings before I’ve brushed my teeth. She teaches me some Chinese phrases, sharing a new one with me this early a.m. Practiced only a few times in my mind, a special one she shared a few weeks back. Roughly translating to “ you doing research and working so hard. You don’t even feel hungry. And forget to eat and sleep.”  Yet, I proceeded going ahead with all my memory. I repeated specific English images, to help me recite what I was taught. It’s all about breaking it down in images for me. Almost like a moving picture book. Flipping through my mind’s eye. She got so giggly excited, I said no no way are you for real? Did I remember without even practicing! I know I don’t legitimately have my accent down in this moment. But she assured me that I’m doing more than well, better than just OK. My vocal tone resonates with these specific vibrations known as Mandarin. French and Italian are considered to be romantic languages of love. I don’t actually agree, I want to learn Russian. No one to speak with to date.  I shall learn anyhow maybe my future husband and I will whisper secrets to each other in bed. Why Blueberries, they’re more purple sitting here, enjoying a rich, thick Greek yogurt/Kefir collagen//a pinch of vitamin C and heaping load of wild blueberries. This is my season for such drinks. Throughout summertime I’ll freeze it, for a while proceeding to let it chill down for a bit. To that right consistency of creamy goodness melting on your taste buds. Years holding a habit of not eating breakfast and I thrive doing so (autophagy).

Is April already over? Yes, Miss. cliché, saying time flies when you’re having fun. I quite enjoyed this GloPoWriMo/25 investigation with all of you here. I look forward to the next poetry challenge at The Poetry Cove! Shout out to Mark Keller for his detailed comments under everyone’s poems. Definitely bringing a more electric dynamic balance to us coming/sharing together. Brought a warmer tone to our overall engagement. I must say, this website is the most glitches system to navigate around. Not posting when you upload. Having to go around in clever patterns trying to figure out how to get your poem loaded correctly. Not holding reactions. I know the perfect word for this, Annoying! I guess it brings that unique charm. Making you work a little extra opening up your passion for writing/poetry. Till next time C.L.A.S

Day 29 x2 "Recipe for a Day" Write a poem in the form of a recipe using ingredients from your current day—coffee, conversation, silence, traffic, etc. C.L.A.S Delightfully Mundane We indulge in philosophy with each other usually early mornings before I’ve brushed my teeth. She teaches me some Chinese phrases, sharing a new one with me this early a.m. Practiced only a few times in my mind, a special one she shared a few weeks back. Roughly translating to “ you doing research and working so hard. You don’t even feel hungry. And forget to eat and sleep.”  Yet, I proceeded going ahead with all my memory. I repeated specific English images, to help me recite what I was taught. It’s all about breaking it down in images for me. Almost like a moving picture book. Flipping through my mind’s eye. She got so giggly excited, I said no no way are you for real? Did I remember without even practicing! I know I don’t legitimately have my accent down in this moment. But she assured me that I’m doing more than well, better than just OK. My vocal tone resonates with these specific vibrations known as Mandarin. French and Italian are considered to be romantic languages of love. I don’t actually agree, I want to learn Russian. No one to speak with to date.  I shall learn anyhow maybe my future husband and I will whisper secrets to each other in bed. Why Blueberries, they’re more purple sitting here, enjoying a rich, thick Greek yogurt/Kefir collagen//a pinch of vitamin C and heaping load of wild blueberries. This is my season for such drinks. Throughout summertime I’ll freeze it, for a while proceeding to let it chill down for a bit. To that right consistency of creamy goodness melting on your taste buds. Years holding a habit of not eating breakfast and I thrive doing so (autophagy).

DAY 30 (FINAL DAY!!!!) "April Exit" Look back at this month. What surprised you? Moved you? Write a farewell poem to April using 3 lines from poems you wrote this month. Life is random and yet precise. I will do so when choosing lines from day 1, day 14 and day 29. The more you write/read/share inevitably you evolve. Overall, this month has been extremely fun and explorative getting to know my creative muse in a new intimate way. Always within me, increased freshness when indulging freely I receive genuine play. C.L.A.S Tequila Sunrise Unfurling cosmic shining rose seeds before planted time waiting patiently for our journey/trip to unfold A life unmapped, taking unexpected wild bumps calm waters rest for you’re always with me Invisibly naked to untuned, my instrument is sharpening revealing hidden splendour, constant rebirth.

Writing is cathartic peace. A healing journey for the self and others. And sharing is also a form of care 🤍

Yes, exactly. Give it a go. We can’t give up on the second last day!

Day 29: There was no prompt for today, so I went ahead with my own here. Nearing the end or is it the beginning. Form a poem on your relationship with writing poetry. C.L.A.S Fresh Lilac Scent An exquisite mind observing wind currents shaking spring flowing trees wild buds holding tight waiting to burst delight. Anticipation for further unfurling caressing soft delicate petals speaking creative unknown patterns keep emerging universal compass revealing hidden splendour, a constant rebirth.

Thank you, I didn’t know what to use to write about. I did go in with full abandonment. To just play around and see what happens!

Day 28 "Today’s Texture" Feel the texture of your clothes, skin, or something nearby. Use sensory language to build a textured poem. C.L.A.S Dirt Holds Hard densely porous pressed tracks winding around and around delicate spiralling concrete circles pounded into with guided hands around, as alien braille communicates around turbulent past turn around future now found around.

DAY 0027-01-01T00:00:00.000Z "5-Minute Free Write" Set a timer for 5 minutes. Write non-stop. No editing. Then, shape that raw writing into a polished poem. C.L.A.S Pause Button Five minutes you say i’m not trying to be morbid here. Lingering on a conversation I just had with a friend of mine It’s a reality. We all come into this world and we all have to exit at some point I want to compose a meaningful burial not concerned if anyone shows up preparation is key in this life of ours. To be more than self, while completely enamoured. You can still be serendipitous wearing moments of freedom I should start saving specifically for my departure from this world. Gracefully put me into my devoted/moving mother, needing a moment to breathe in my mortality. Importance of contemplating temporality. All our visions, righteous dreams that came to be or not. All those questions asked, maybe never even thought, wanting to collapse and lie down. Can I just go now, what weird ruminations on a simple Sunday but you have to think about it someday, I often do. When to take full action and genuinely go through with these cathartic mind numbing candour. Do I start all over never giving up in life, right, start over knowing more harsh truths. We’re meant to go through all these mistakes and hardships learning progressively together building human consciousness, slowly stronger. Merely think of our forefathers and where they came from. I’m so happy to not be them and yet grateful for their struggles and anguish to bring me forth damn existence, overwhelming and beautiful a double edged sword cutting you endlessly bleeding triumphant gems. Finite loving life Sitting grave waits patiently Creation is yours.

Everything is speakable, even the unspeakable. I wasn’t trying to compare. People have been through the most horrific detrimental experiences throughout this life. I wonder if you could capture that rage for people to know they’re not completely alone. (this platform here most definitely isn’t suited for such reality, but there is always a place for such expression.) Forgiveness of the situation, the person and yourself truly is miraculous in healing understanding anything. Even unspeakable disgusting diabolical things 🤍

Day 26 "Dream Spill" Write down the last dream you remember. Now exaggerate it. Transform it. Turn it into today’s poem. Somewhat of a lucid dream this morning, after I quickly returned to slumber for 20 minutes before I had to get up. C.L.A.S Granted Infinite pedals carry me away, gliding on a smooth translucent rain cloud there where more than just you, many suitors on standby trying to find me as I slid straight through and around a hazy labyrinth of painfully taught understandings, what I need/deserve in this human 3-D reality. Your vulnerability expressed in unspoken words, astonish perfection wept slowly trickling down into your cherry pressed lips quivering a smile for me/us our future. Dear friends soaring past endings. Nature gives you all Patiently waited for truth Brings everything now.

Speaking somewhat similar. I just know a lot of people who are physically unable to do many simple tasks. Where painful rage does come through because of these inabilities. And with imagination and forgiveness, they’re able to succumb to the beauty within the moment. To see life past their own physicality/ego.

Also, imagination helps fulfil your overall essence when you can’t get out physically!

Day 25: Noted in passing C.L.A.S As Big As Trees That DENSE vulgar melting tar smell, climbing up and through a tricky obstacle course/ ninja acrobatic kick swing makes way to school rooftop now after hours being told multiple times (“it’s dangerous”) not to sit- experimenting with leafy green tokens, and found half smoked cig-butts often stolen from friends mother, gross/menthol taste lingers around, play running back-and-forth, tacky floor gumshoed down for a micro-sec, tag you’re it can you catch me, found a spot to hide, will you see where I’ll be doing cartwheels, anything imagined from our creative minds a haven away from all that finicky adult babble. Curly Q crouched down to level ground, collecting big thick sticks fixated on building her fortress. Higher Perspective Grown children knowing what’s up Limit pushing fun.

DAY 24: “Grounded" Touch the ground with your hands or feet. What do you feel? Write a poem connecting your body to the earth. C.L.A.S Mother I Am: Quiet harsh truths bring me down to my knees our destructive nature transitions over time to calmer rhythmic cycles now young children patching up undulating cracks, let’s put this on slow diminish repeat breathing in vibrant visionary progressive essence, we’re all merely a speck of dust scratching heads in a hurricane tunnel, abusing ones emotional/mental physical health starving dreams of consciousness, stars floating around precisely calculated confusion all wrapped up in a pretty whimsical vantablack bow.

Day 23: "One-Sentence Poem" Challenge: Write a poem that is only one long sentence. Let it wander and loop like thought. OK, this is straight off of Google. Asked the Oracle to tell me the longest recorded English written sentence? “In the "Molly's Monologue" section of the work, you can find the sentence which runs 4,391 words long. However, Jonathan Coe's The Rotter's Club currently holds the record with a single sentence that is 13,955 words long. And yes, that sentence in Coe's book is grammatically correct, loosely speaking.” I’m actually starting to write longer sentences these days. Yet I often tend to indulge with shorter line brakes when writing poetry. This for me is my long sentence/poem. C.L.A.S Leap-Forward Your tonal frequency captured me reverse first my aura was one whom distinguished your constant spellbound progression full disclosure of me us two muses most in need of each other blooming endless fractal flowers best intergalactic bouquets connected yet physical touch missing ceiling about to crash broken glass scattered throughout earth’s playground I’m on outskirts forgotten ledge looking past 10 billion light years galactic universe hovering between wormholes wonder will you catch up for you are it.

I have to get into the habit, I often forget about the Saturday Zoom calls. I hope to make it this Saturday. 🤍

Welcome back safely. This month long poetry challenge/journey has been beyond creative/fun. I have 23 new poems. Possibly a few gems that I may polish up a little more. I love to write. So this is just opening up my field, even greater!

Day 23: "One-Sentence Poem" Challenge: Write a poem that is only one long sentence. Let it wander and loop like thought. OK, this is straight off of Google. Asked the Oracle to tell me the longest recorded English written sentence? “In the "Molly's Monologue" section of the work, you can find the sentence which runs 4,391 words long. However, Jonathan Coe's The Rotter's Club currently holds the record with a single sentence that is 13,955 words long. And yes, that sentence in Coe's book is grammatically correct, loosely speaking.” I’m actually starting to write longer sentences these days. Yet I often tend to indulge with shorter line brakes when writing poetry. This for me is my long sentence/poem. C.L.A.S Leap-Forward Your tonal frequency captured me reverse first my aura was one whom distinguished your constant spellbound progression full disclosure of me us two muses most in need of each other blooming endless fractal flowers best intergalactic bouquets connected yet physical touch missing ceiling about to crash broken glass scattered throughout earth’s playground I’m on outskirts forgotten ledge looking past 10 billion light years galactic universe hovering between wormholes wonder will you catch up for you are it.