Its April and its NaPoWriMo time – 30 days, 30 poems. Its great to be back and to meet acquaintances made during the previous NaPoWriMo challenge and new ones too. Wishing all those who are taking part in the 30 day challenge, ‘All The Best!’
Today’s craft resource is to write poems that provide the reader with instructions on how to do something. It can be a sort of recipe, like O’Neil’s poem. Or you could try to play on the notorious unreliability of instructional manuals (if you’ve ever tried to put IKEA furniture together, you know what I mean). You could even write a dis-instruction poem, that tells the reader how not to do something. This well-known poem by John Ashbery may provide you with some additional inspiration.
My poem for the day:
I finally decided to share it-
To let you in
Post the never-ending glares
deepening frowns and eternal stares
From mom and dad
And as if that wasn’t bad
Grandma and grandpa too
And they asked, “How do you do what you do-
Sit all day long and do nothing?’
So here it is : this little secret of mine
8.00 a.m- still early
I lie down a bit
Candy canes, chocolate factories
Furry dogs, snow; Dong, Dong – it’s 9!
Damn!
Beep! That’s a message
Fifty three on what’s app and nine on Twitter
Instagram has fifteen
And Facebook twenty!
Thumbs up, Hearts, Open mouths
Wait! Did they love my post?
No!
Change it back to ‘like’ then
And reply with a humble thanks
Oh! Just a thanks won’t do
A hug, a kiss…how many has the sender put?
Seriously…with so much love
God must be His happiest self now
Yikes! Its 10 a.m.; some more beeps
But wait…what’s that on the ceiling?
Up, down, in, out- Wow! What intricate work!
How does it do what it does?’
Deftly it spins
The beauty! Painstakingly makes
‘Wonder Woman’ will be here soon
One stroke and it’ll be part of the rubble
Oh, The poor soul!
Dong, Dong, Dong- 11 already!
Have I told you the secret?
First, I need to send a message
Snap chat
Or I’ll miss my streaks
Woah! That was close-
Kites swooping
Big wings, strong, gliding
One flap, turn and now they soar
Hawked beak and that watchful eye-
A rat for brunch perhaps or is it a squirrel?
Knock, knock…Mom’s at the door
A frown, “What have you been doing? It’s 12!”
‘Nothing,’ I mutter, stumbling out of bed
“Doing Nothing? For so long?”
A frown, a glare
You’ll have to wait
For the secret-
The steps to the art
Of doing Nothing-
Or did you just learn it?
I dedicate this poem to my younger teen who has truly mastered this art.
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Eúnoia 
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