I Am the Egg Woman (ii)

The satisfying
of spoon
on eggshell

make it crack
peel away
the top

reveal the
white mound
ready for

Spoon poised
then it goes in

like predator
with prey
struck helpless
and dumb

with one of
his victims)

dip into
the swimming yolk
not quite solid
raw lava centre
relished on tongue

pure protein power
for pint-sized

I carefully
scrape out
and consume
every last remain

as if I’m eating
a tiny brain.

I admire
the hollow shell

still perfect
in its emptiness.

the void.

What more
beatific form
than this?



© N Nazir 2022

© N Nazir 2022

Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Sanaa.

I’m Mute but I’m a Visionary, thought Wednesday #wordless wednesday

Woman by artist Hazard One, Bristol, 2022

© N Nazir 2022

*The first image is also my last on the card for April, shared for Bushboy’s last on the card challenge. These were taken on my phone so they don’t truly justify how eye-popping the paintwork of this mural is. I didn’t share last month’s as it was trash. And the last on the card cannot be trash. I know it’s allowed to be but I won’t share it if it is! Anyway, I won’t say any more as I must remain wordless and don’t wish to upset Wednesday.

A Hybrid Poem (Homeric-style?) #NaPoWriMo

…hangs in full view
too close to see
how it falls over
its own edge
a rogue contained
in mid-air, a hiss
of simmering

Collage Poems, (Sketchbook 2022), © N Nazir 2022

…sitting somewhere
writing reams
purloining fruit
of forbidden blush
hiding behind
trench coat, glasses
drinking wine
in the hush
of dusk.

© N Nazir 2022

NaPoWriMo Review: And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across.

And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.

For more information or to take part, please visit www.napowrimo.net

*I will reply to comments soon! Thank you for stopping by 🙂

PuNk POeMs #NaPoWriMo

Collage Poems (Sketchbook 2022), © N Nazir 2022

© N Nazir 2022

NaPoWriMo Prompt: Hard-boiled detective novels are known for their use of vivid similes, often with an ironic or sarcastic tone. Novelist Raymond Chandler is particularly adept at these. Here are a few from his novels:

  • A few locks of dry, white hair clung to his scalp, like wild flowers fighting for life on a bare rock.
  • Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.
  • From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away.
  • She smelled the way the Taj Mahal looks by moonlight.
  • He looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.

Today, I’d like to challenge you to channel your inner gumshoe, and write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile. Feel free to use just one, or try to go for broke and stuff your poem with similes till it’s . . . as dense as bread baked by a plumber, as round as the eyes of a girl who wants you to think she’s never heard such language, and as easy to miss as a brass band in a cathedral.

For more information or to take part, please visit www.napowrimo.net

The Unconscious Throws Up Answers #NaPoWriMo (off-prompt)

Erasure Poem #57, gel pen on paper, © N Nazir 2022 (Sourced from The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt)

We vanish
into the
falling fog.

I hide
you seek.

We are
in perfect

The world
is our
chess game.

© N Nazir 2022

*The text yielded nothing more than these snatches of phrase. It was just an excuse to use my my new ink pen. And I realise it appears more oceanic than “falling fog.” At the end, it had me in mind of Hokusai’s wave. Perhaps I was unconsciously channelling it. Image below.

The Great Wave of Kanagawa, Hokusai, woodblock print, 1829-1833 (image from Pinterest)

NaPoWriMo Prompt: Today’s (optional) prompt is one I got from the poet Betsy Sholl. This prompt asks you to write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.

For more information and to take part, please visit www.napowrimo.net

*I did actually write a poem for the above prompt. But it felt too personal to share. So I thought I’d share a doodle instead.