Today's prompts from Write Better Poetry and NaPoWriMo: (1) Write a "harvest" poem, and "try writing your own poem that discusses a real or mythical being or profession (demons, firefighters, demonic firefighters) with [a] musing yet dispassionate tone."
Here is mine, a sequel tof sorts to my earlier poem "Last Poem" (Day 26):
International Harvester (A Sequel)
And then, after he gathered up the poet,
he heard of other places that needed reaping,
so he laid down his scythe and climbed
aboard a huge machine which chugged
and roared over fields, its razor-sharp blades
whirring and cycling, slicing crops by the hundreds,
the thousands—Ukraine, Gaza, Iran—
as he prepared for the long winter ahead.
he heard of other places that needed reaping,
so he laid down his scythe and climbed
aboard a huge machine which chugged
and roared over fields, its razor-sharp blades
whirring and cycling, slicing crops by the hundreds,
the thousands—Ukraine, Gaza, Iran—
as he prepared for the long winter ahead.
Sorry to end the month on such a downer topic, but I just couldn't seem to shake that image today. I enjoyed writing this month, even though 32 new poems is a little less than my usual production. Thanks to everyone who read and shared here. I'll be back soon with a summary and a selection of my "best" of the month. Let's hope that harvester machine shuts down.
3 comments:
A hard ending, Bruce, but a necessary one. Just like shaun said below. I am glad you did not look away from those still suffering. “Let’s hope that harvester machine shuts down” feels like the only possible prayer after this poem.
No need to apologize for truth. Enjoyed your work when I found this month. Hope to see you again next year.
Wow. The idea of Death using a harvester rather than a scythe is clever ... and sobering. Congrats for getting to the end of the month! And thanks for coming to my blog each day.
I will get you on my favorites list. I have to look up how to do it.
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