NaPoWriMo 2025 (part V)

Days 15-17 of NaPoWriMo

One percent 

Rise up you non-believers, you pariahs of society, 

Disheartened by democracy, downtrodden in the data,

Statistically insignificant supporters of society, 

Rise up against the only one percent that really matters,

The cold and callous constructs of those ballsy billionaires,

The unwoke, unaware.

Shanties

The setting sun paints garish colours

Across the vault of the sky

And streaks the sea with golden glitter

While overhead the seagulls fly

Towards their nests, their bellies full.

The sand is soft between my toes,

Bathed in flickering firelight

That warms my friends as they draw close.

The lapping waves are counterpoint

To our harmonious melodies

As we sing rousing songs and give

Our joyous praises to the sea.

Trans Rights and Wrongs

My blood is fire

And in the end it's only you that you're accountable to,

But in the fight and the frenzy

Let me hold your hand.

This band of brothers, 

Broken-hearted,

Sisters and siblings,

The wings in our souls will carry us through.

Their ignorance is impotent,

And sure as seasons change,

With science at the reins,

I know this too will be

A winter of a memory.

So bundle up your hearts and heads

And light the fire of self-defence,

And usher every quivering wreck

To the hearth of friendship

NaPoWriMo 2025 (part III)

Days 8-11 of NaPoWriMo

Everyone

This world is made for you, and me, and everyone

The great, the small, the rich, the poor, and everyone

A cityscape of steel, and trees, and concrete

The comfort of a living space for everyone

Fields of wheat, and strawberries, and apple groves

A healthy, and a filling meal for everyone

Time ton cry, and time to laugh and celebrate

For joy, and love, and grief is felt by everyone

A world divided is no use to anyone

A world united is the peace of everyone

Ducks

A path runs beside the hedgerows

Down towards the river flow

And towering hawthorns grow

Delicate flowers among their thorns.

The stone steps are worn

And yet your feet are sure,

Settled in the grooves of time,

Beneath ivy vines, and a foliage roof.

A pair of ducks, aloof, glide past

And the brief flash of minnows

Shine silver in the water below.

Mushrooms

A mottled mesh of mycelium

The metabolic metronome amongst

Aging roots and amber roaches

Rousted from the rotting homes.

Heather, hyssop, hyacinth,

And singing starlings, swooping

In the sun beams. Reams of leaf litter

Lain on lice and mice and ivy shoots.

Shaded scenes of simply summers,
Thrumming with the thirst for freedom.

Thistledown and hummingbirds,

And hope sits heavy in my heart.

But here amid the ancient agaric

Grasses glint with morning dew

And mushroom gills are golden gilt

With mottled marks of mycelium.

My own Changes

They say it takes time,

It's not a matter of pride

She had in her mind how your future unfurled.

You cut off your hair,

And changed what you wear,

She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl.

But pink birthday cards

And gendered words,

I struggle to see where the effort is made.

And over the years

It's becoming clear

That this is the way she always behaved.

I've bitten my tongue

And suffered her wrongs

But family only takes you so far.

She might never know

If I'm a boy or a girl

But I am who I am when you're ready to care.

NaPoWriMo 2025 (part I)

Yes, I know it's already the 14th, but I didn't think about posting my poems here until now. Oops. I'll do a few posts to spread them out though.

Mezzotint

The soft screech of metal on metal

Echoes of the noises in my mind

I smooth away the imperfections

Burnishing the jagged lines

Ink seeps in the crevices

The stark relief of black on bronze

The fibres of the parchment sheet

Capture every varied tone

The rhythm and the repetition

Brush and ink and rags and tint

I smooth away my imperfections

And etch my heart in every print

Social Transactions

O, self creators

Mistresses of makery

Masters of testosterone

And artists of non-binary

Strip away your carapace

Reveal your inner glory

Sculpting flesh and bone

To your gender ideology

Our future is in stasis

For the progress of society

Is slow as metamorphosis

But just as worth the journey

So raise your hands and hearts

Find and forge a family

Live the truth within yourself

Transition to your beauty

Why am I an artist?

I am not an artist because I create art

Just as I am not a sleeper because I sleep

And I am not a worker because I work

I ask the sparrow if he is a singer

    because he sings

And he says, "No

    I sing because I am a bird"

I ask the flounder if she is a swimmer

    because she swims

And she says, "No,   

    I swim because I am a fish"

I ask the gazelle if she is a runner

    because she runs

and she says, "No,

    I run because I am a gazelle"

So I am not an artist

    because I create art

I create art because

I am

    Alive