Xix xix xix

[Dunc]

XIX XIX XIX : The rumba of the beets ─ alluding, of course, to this, my 19th NaPo.
Except that now, dozily, belatedly, I twig this is my 20th NaPo, and it should be XX XX XX, though everyone would think that was a beer ad.


01 On Being an April Fool
02 Homer
03 Blackberries
04 Scandian Ode
05 The Higher Mathematick
06 The Lost Words
07 A version of Rimbaud's Ophélie
08 A Better Sequel
09 Loose Cogs
10 The Last Pair
11 At the Finish
12 Optional Compulsory Cat Poem
13 At a Premium
14 From The Somonyng of Everyman
15 Traditional Poem for the Half-Way Point 2024
16 Anyone for Tennyson?
17 An Evening
18 Lament
19 Trakl in Autumn (1) ─ Transfigured Autumn
20 Trakl in Autumn (2) ─ Decay
21 From the Waste Paper Basket
22 Train Window
23 Upon my Oath
24 Unfixity
25 Anzac Day 2024
26 In Secret
27 To Henrietta Leavitt
28 Last Chapter
29 Me and Gough
30 April the Last


  

[avalanche]

Noice....

[Mike M]

Happy nineteenth!

[Andrea345]

... and that is why no one here has ever once implied that you are sane. LOL

[prokopton]

Once more with feelings,
Nothing more than feelings
Wo-o-o, yeah

[Dunc]

Avalanche, andrea, mike, Gefof

Why, thank you for your kind welcome!

Regards / Dunc

[Dunc]

2024 April 1



On being an April Fool

Written 2024 Mar 20 in Sydney, Australia


Today’s the autumn equinox,
overcast, windy; I wore a coat.

I have donned nor coat nor sweater,
not slept by doona, rug or blanket
since two weeks shy of half a year,

a fact that scares me all to hell.


  

[Scrow]

Very good to read you again, friend.

I like the sparseness of this, the fact that it reminds me of Lear (why, I know not, as this is tetrameter not pentameter - but maybe that sing-song sense of tiredness and doom - that sense of the Fool's song quality, which from memory is a kind of ballad). The end is great, pulling me out of that slightly detached voice into thinking about why it is scary not to have to wrap up at all for six months in each year. As there is also something nice and comforting about going under a duvet. And, of course, climate change and destruction. It is nice how you introduce a continent with one piece of key domestic vocabulary.

Mind you having said that about it being nice to be cold, if you are ever in the UK I will offer you tea at the Coldest Flat Ever. It is an improbably beautiful flat, both tatty and luxurious, the old servants quarters of a grand house - but with views across to the Black Mountains of Wales. But so so so cold.

Good luck this month!

Sarah

[Blythe]

Duuuuuuuunc

[Jee Leong]

A serious Fool then. Great start, Dunc. It's nice to be writing with you again.

[5th column]

Nineteenth and still no doona…. that’s gotta be chilly

[SP Singer]

Great to be back here with you for your Grand 19th!

Always wonderful for a short poem to clear like a wrecking ball.

You aren't the fool in particular Dunc, rather a constant honest observer taking careful note. It is the same here in New England, US. Almost nothing I see outside means what it has always meant. It's getting down to the level of how I literally breathe.

Let NaPo keep you warm in all the right ways, SP

[Louisa Lander]

Maybe like poor Tom out on the moor. There's a touch of madness her ...., and innocence. Not so far away from shivering naked.

[prokopton]

A start it is.
I'd be keener if the vernal equinox
actually occurred in April.
I hope you can enjoy the cooler months
as I look forward to warmer ones.

Goffe

[Featherless Biped]

And here I am antipodally looking forward to spring! Stay warm, friend. I have been under doonas and such for the past six months, but haven’t heard the word “doona” in a while.

It’s good to see you here again!