National Poetry Month: Tristich 1-10 #NaPoWriMo


Who said April is the cruellest month? In fact, it appears April is National Poetry Month. How come I didn’t know this. Thanks to Lagan Press for introducing #NaPoWriMo and furnishing the poetry writing community here with daily prompts.

Over on Instagram (pearldiver32), I have been writing a tristich (three line poem) a day and feeling a bit self-satisfied as I have managed to keep on track this far. Really enjoying it. I have done a bit of prompt-hopping, mostly because I needed the prompt early in the day to ensure that I got a chance to do the writing / image creating by the end of the day. The second half of the prompts are from The Poetry School who run some fantastic online and offline poetry courses.

NaPoWriMo Thirty Tristiches – 1-10


1/30: Vernal Equinox at Avebury

West Kennet longbarrow with mouth open – welcoming;

Stone chambers clean, dry and empty;

In the crevices, RIP offerings to the maybe-grave-dwellers.


2/30: Between Times

My love, I try to catch up, match your long strides – regular;

A day added, hours gained or lost to create this Roman calendar – and you must take my time too;

My womb, like an ancient astronomer – and I – cannot stray from the course of a year that is lunar.


3/10: Single-glazed

On the inside, I touch the pane;

Smooth and cold like it was a wall

Of rain facing the other way.


4/10: No Reliable Witness

In its muted light, the wall of one barrow chamber seems blue;

Single storey like your home – and as silent as to why things turned out so;

You left in stages like the waning moon, were easy to blame and much too easy to lose.


5/10: Polycystic Heart

Cysts that develop over time – I wonder what might be growing in those hidden chambers;

In the parlour of the present company I snap-back and forth between here and trying to find the cure;

In the lost hours of bedtime I wonder what this thing called memory really is.

-for Colin & Geraldine


6/10: Dusk Haiku

Long evening light, cold;

Early April buds breaking open;

Backlit, colour appears in the Cathedral’s stained glass windows.


7/10: Letter from Black Hawk Delta

Weather changeable – daffodil bud cases litter the base of the vase;

Half a rusty nail with hex head found at my door;

The sound the cracked glass jar made after I quenched the flame.


8/10: Old Building Artefacts found on English Street

Half a screw, three-quarters of a hoop – both of badly corroded metal;

Enough, they seem to say, of these persistent renovations – our preserved facades

are disintegrating; keep these ‘bones’ of us as a kind of memento mori.


9/10: At Aries Point

How subtly the sequence of the light changes;

Here at isophase, the antique lamp is just about to increase the duration of brightness;

Though it will retract later, we always retain the sweeping beam


10/30: Place of Domestic Tides

The moon comes to this room first /

face filtered through frosted glass /

watches over our singular waning and preparing rituals


 Olive Broderick © 2016

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