A Bathroom Meditation

Image: from Pexels

Stand and stare
at the body bare,
these hips don't fit into
little pretty spaces,

they don't like to be held back.
Called child-bearing hips
babies carried inside and out,
these hips are free,

mighty in their dimension
curvy in their presentation.

12th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

ⓒ Nicole Moore

The Thickness of Racism

Image: from Pexels

Prejudice is only skin deep
this is the thickness of racism.

It appears without warning;
in fact, It was socially constructed centuries ago
and exposed and sold as a way of discriminating 
in a variety of guises...of making a fine distinction.

It is so embedded in some cultures
that people are unaware, unconscious 
of their mindset developing in an 
'ignorance is bliss' context.

The ability to discriminate is a precious facility
but in the wrong hands, it will bite like a mosquito
or buzz around you like a bee;

It can rear its ugly head in a myriad of guises
And sometimes it will come alive
in such force, it will feel as if you've been slapped in the face.

So the pointless death of another black man
captured on video in the US
and seeping into the UK
evolves into a  belief 
that a man has to be up to something criminal.

Prejudice is only skin deep
this is the thickness of racism.

11th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

ⓒ Nicole Moore

Straight-talking

Photo: Me and my son Andrew,  December 2014.

He's a no-nonsense, straight-talking kind of man
Strong on family values
And whenever he can
He'll talk with the width and depth
To home in on issues important to him.

He has a wild thorny side
Little things he observes that just ain't right
Can and sometimes do make him mad
Enough to retaliate
To take a stand.

He has a fun side too
A great sense of humour
Especially a joy to see
When he interacts with his daughter
Then his softer lighter side will be full of laughter.

10th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

(*Portrait poem)

ⓒ Nicole Moore

NaPoWriMo's 10th day prompt:
*Write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn't need to focus so much on what a person looks like,  as what they are.

Lightning

'Lightning': Coloured pencil drawing by Nicole Moore

Saturn-like parallel stream-rings

Tornado in the distance

turbulence

disturbance

captured

in a moment

textured lightning striking

putting on a pre-formance

awaiting the thunderous response

9th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

*Ekphrastic poem
ⓒ Nicole Moore

NaPoWriMo's 9th day prompt:

Write a nine-line poem. 

*According to the Poetry Foundation, "an ekphrastic poem is a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art." More generally, an ekphrastic poem is a poem inspired or stimulated by a work of art.

Still a Tree

Photo: Me sitting on a Banyan tree, August 1988 in the enchanting Oratava
Acclimatisation Gardens, on the edge of Puerto de la Cruz in the second most
major town in Tenerife.

It's hard to believe

The Banyan tree

Started its life as an epiphyte

Yet still, beauty lies deep

The Banyan tree remains

Strong, eloquent, solid, still tree

Yet still, its beauty lies deep

Gracious and grounded

Strong eloquent, solid, still a tree

Over 200 years old

Gracious, grounded

Its majestic presence is irresistible

Voiceless it speaks

Started its life as an epiphyte

Connecting roots directly and indirectly to its central trunk

It's hard to believe

8th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

(*pantoum poem)

© Nicole Moore

NaPoWriMo's 8th day prompt:

Write a poem that relies on repetition, of a phrase, or just a word.

*The pantoum is a poem of any length composed of four-line stanzas. In each stanza, the second and fourth lines serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. The last line of a pantoum is generally the same as the first line.

Still a Tree - First published here

Hard to maintain? No!

Poinsettia Plant Leaf still remains...

When I bought you in full bloom in December 2015,
I had low expectations of how long we would share 
our lives together.

You continued to throw the fact—that you are 'hard to maintain'
completely
on its head.

You and your cheery red and green foliage
brought out a part of me that even spoke softly to you,
'How beautiful you look...'

Maybe, just the sound of my voice
captured your lifespan,
so you lasted—all year.

And when you finally faded,
I kept and pressed a few of your leaves
to keep the memory of you in tact ... never to die.

7th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

ⓒ Nicole Moore

NaPoWriMo's day 5 prompt:

Write a poem that is based in the natural world that you've personally experienced and optimally, one that you've experienced often. Try to incorporate specific details while also stating why you find the chosen place or plant/animal meaningful.

Seven Ways of Looking at Hands

I know I would be nowhere
with no hands, no lifelines to reveal
futures, life's expressions invisible,
No incredible, articulate moments.

Essential, responsible, hands matter
Men, women, children, babies
rejoice when hands hold, caress ... and direct an orchestra,
drive cars, buses, trains; fly helicopters and planes.

Hands—a pair with eight fingers, two thumbs
to adorn with jewels to signify status,
act as an invitation; as an exit strategy.
Are diamonds really a girl's best friend?

How is it that hands are enclosed
in a protective skin,
so as to keep out evil
and let good in?

But hands can slap, punch, and kill
swear and curse, with such dramatic appeal
that 'war' is the outcome;
peace the calm after the storm.

The artist, the pianist, the writer,
the musician, the singer, the dancer,
would turn mad, bad and dangerous to know,
without their hands, they'd have no place to go.

Hands are perfect; each finger print unique,
to keep a trace; a pattern,
there is no escape,
if you've abused their powers.

(6th poem for NaPoWriMo2017; first posted as 16th poem for NaPoWriMo2013)

ⓒ Nicole Moore

Today's NaPoWriMo2017 prompt is to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view.

What Do You Love?

'Woman in Yellow Dress': Coloured pencil drawing by Nicole Moore

T(he)y tell me I can't wear bright colours. Who are those talking heads to tell me what I can and can't wear? Something about the stark contrast against my skin ... 'doesn't work' It works well for me. Oh and, 'Who do you think you are wearing that hat?' I'm at peace. Can you say the same? 

A breeze like the turn of a page keeps me poised on the might of the sea. I love my dress. I love my hat. What do you love?

5th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

(prose poem)

ⓒ Nicole Moore

Elegy for Adrian

Adrian Chambers, Italy, the 1980s.

I remember the first time I saw you
Your call and response failed five times
Until you managed to tap me on my shoulder
from the front room window

When I turned around and saw you
Your eyes threw me
We spoke gobbledygook 
as a way of tuning in

And when I asked you a random question—
'Do you drink or smoke?'
Your reply made me smile,
'No but I eat a lot of biscuits.'

And because it was easy to say it,
I asked, 'Any particular kind?'
And you said,
'Custard Creams.'

Your death remains a turning point
Our memories are safe
And We will always
share history.

4th poem for NaPoWriMo2017

ⓒ Nicole Moore

NaPoWriMo's day 3 prompt was an elegy, (I'm not sticking to posting in any particular order) 'but make it centred around something specific or unusual about the person or thing it's about'. I lost my partner Adrian in 1988 and our first meet, in 1980, will be something I savour as a special memory, but it's his confession about Custard Creams that will always make me smile!

Forever Breathing

Image from Pexels

I could be described as a sitting room
Yet I am much more
to the eyes that see
and those who live and love

For I can mirror beauty here
I am the faceless, silent witness
Forever Breathing within these walls,
contained I hold space

I feel those energies come, go, stay
I am the shadow at night
You choose the interior
but I am its ghosts

It matters not what shape I am in.

3rd poem for NaPoWriMo 2017

ⓒ Nicole Moore

'Home'

**29 Grosvenor Avenue, Highbury, London.

Shadows from street-lamps create a dance as she turns the key. She hears silence as she steps inside, engulfed by the incongruous smell, staggering slow into a minefield trance; searchlights beam. 

The kitchen has swapped places. The lounge has grown. There are no colours, light is upside down. Intensity mounts; her breathing becomes sharp and loud.

No pictures, no memories on the walls. No hugs, no laughter. Alone with her shadow, the sameness disconnects. She questions the emptiness, the boundaries of silence … how did home turn into a soul-less place?

within a fortnight

when the world turned upside down

she lost her footing

2nd poem for NaPoWriMo 2017

(*Haibun)

ⓒ Nicole Moore

*Haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal.

**Photo of the house I lived in as a child with my mother and grandparents, taken in 2008.

Forever Solid

'Forever Solid': Coloured pencil drawing by Nicole Moore

Forever solid

waiting in vain for the sun

the moon will suffice.

1st poem for NaPoWriMo 2017

(Haiku Art)

ⓒ Nicole Moore