By Daniel Paiz

Most of the time these poetry entries are a rhyme on something newsworthy or a topic often in the public realm of thought. Other times are haikus of various life experiences and encounters. Still others are braggadocio flows or subdued spoken word verse.

This final entry of NaPoWriMo 2021 doesn’t really feel like any of those. In a strange capacity, it feels like good old poetry; that’s weird for this writer. Perhaps it’s one last straw at displaying the poetic chops aren’t just in the realm of rhymes and haikus. That’s for you, dear reader, to decide.

Chasing

What bottle do you drink from,

reaching uncertain thirst,

inebriate with the idea,

a decision might be cursed.

A choice most foul,

a thought once

relegated

to the tombs,

of those under the impression,

this spectrum of time not linear,

but back and forth,

observing

flowers all the way back and forth

in varying states of bulbs.

denote the casual distraction,

the descriptive endeavor,

clever yet uncertain,

of choosing

what could be or not be

ruling by the letter.

No courthouse

just responses picked

almost by duty,

luckily no public participation

for this kind of jury.

Animated

distracted mayhem,

the images are unclear,

fear quenched in these gulps,

whether post script or bark,

much like a switch

taking such lumps.

Rebuild not renounce efforts after letters rejected.