NaPoWriMo Day 1: Repeat After Me

It’s Easter. It’s spring! It’s Day 1 of NaPoWriMo! You may have noticed it is also April Fool’s Day. But make no mistake, this is a serious endeavor! Check out my description of this month’s writing challenge here, where you will find links to learn more about National Poetry Month and NaPoWriMo.

And if you are ready to WRITE WORDS NOW, here’s your daily (optional) poetry prompt:

Repetition. Choose a word and repeat it throughout your poem, as Kevin Prufer did in his poem “Rain.” This prompt was offered up back on October 10, 2017, by the folks at Poets&Writers. They post three different weekly writing prompts on their blog “The Time is Now.” Poetry prompts on Tuesdays, fiction prompts on Wednesdays, and creative nonfiction prompts on Thursdays.

Here’s what I wrote. This started out as a poem about a Gwen Stefani song, so …. go figure. Editing is my friend. Except now it ends with the meaning of life, which seems pretentious. And maybe a little ridiculous. I’ll call it a work in progress. Onward to Day 2!

Knowing

And now, at the
midpoint of your life
(thank you, Dante),
knowing you can
make life, take life,
be marked for life,
knowing that,
though the sea
teems with life,
there are whole
stretches of space
unresponsive to life,
you wonder if your
life lacks Meaning.

And you forget,
Are you supposed
to go get Meaning and
give it to your life?
Or is Meaning there
already, waiting for
the tip of your spade?

The Internet, full of
other people’s answers,
assures you that
both things are true.
Tells you to get a life,
take charge of it,
turn the lemons
of life into sugar-free
organic beverages.
You must cultivate
simple moments,
make plans, get an
accountability partner.

But as you lie in bed,
churning to embark,
there is a tiny mole
on your shoulder,
shaped like a star,
or a lump in your
breast, like a kernel
of unpopped corn, or
a sesame seed-sized
spot on the rubber malbec
surface of your liver.

Because life
provides its own
accountability partners.
(Of course it does.)

Mole, lump, spot,
other people’s answers.
Just cut them out.
Just cut it out.

The meaning of life
is to live.