to the voices inside, I listen,
the past, I hold a séance with;
for their effect maybe faint,
with time, their wounds dry,
but they still hold our sounds.
what they say, I may not like,
once they had stopped my steps,
but it was never unheard of
that they would go in passing
or be invisible, like ghosts.
they remain close, like the
pool of fallen autumn leaves
on winter morn, frost-crisp’d;
no branches from to break,
nor seeds to be reborn from.
but they’re still lessons, the
fallouts from our time trees;
to which I listen, take in and
continue trying never to fall.
NaPoWriMo was first held in 2003. It is an annual project where participating poets write a poem each day of April.
One of the prompts given at the NaPoWriMo site was to write a Golden Shovel poem. This form was invented by Terrance Hayes in his poem, The Golden Shovel. The last word of each line of Hayes’ poem is a word from Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem We Real Cool. The prompt asks us to make a poem, with the last word of each line of our poem being the words from another poem.
I chose the poem November Night, a cinquain written by Adelaide Crapsey, as my reference poem, and this poem was born.
(5th April 2014)
Beautiful…and So true the Voices of our past whether Good or Bad, Right or Wrong have so much to say and so much to teach us…..Loved It…Seriously get a Loved It button too 🙂
suggest that to WordPress na 😀 Sounds fun. I will not mind.
Glad you loved the poem, Jb. 🙂 Thanks muchly!
The voices, we may not like them, but as you said, they are lessons. Beautiful piece.
Thanks very much Amrit 🙂
Wise thoughts 🙂
Thanks, Sims 😛
Beautiful Leo. I agree they are still lessons close to our heart. 🙂
They certainly are, and should be 🙂 Thanks, Sfoo!
Am impressed with your poetry. Good one.
Thanks, Janaki 🙂
Lovely Write Leo. 🙂
Thanks, Preethi 🙂
Voices of the past, rings now and then, sometimes quite often. I am bored of saying that you write awesome poetry.
You don’t need to say that, Poo 😉 say something else. you’re pretty wordy.