I Am the Egg Woman (ii)

The satisfying
thwack
of spoon
on eggshell

make it crack
peel away
the top

reveal the
white mound
ready for

scooping.
Spoon poised
then it goes in

like predator
with prey
struck helpless
and dumb

(Hannibal
Lecter
with one of
his victims)

dip into
the swimming yolk
not quite solid
yellow-edged
raw lava centre
relished on tongue
mmmmmmm

pure protein power
for pint-sized
proportions

I carefully
scrape out
and consume
every last remain

as if I’m eating
a tiny brain.

I admire
the hollow shell

somehow
still perfect
in its emptiness.

Tapering
ovoid
contains
the void.

What more
beatific form
exists
than this?

Nothing.

Nothing
whatsoever.

© 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.

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
and
you seek.

We are
in perfect
harmony.

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.

Artless #NaPoWriMo (off-prompt)

Erasure Poem #23, acrylic & gel pen on paper, © N Nazir 2022

The working world
is profane
slaving away
in everyday time.

A non-profane dimension
I find in…
…travelling
escapes
escapades
wildernesses,
to renew contact
with the sublime self.

I am
my art.

I spend no time
perpetuating rules.

I long…
…to bring
landscape indoors.

I love dimension,
eco-friendly
mystical
art.

I loathe
pretentious
shallow
gestures
in art.

© N Nazir 2022


*I struggled with today’s prompt. I just couldn’t come up with any response to it, nor did I have time. So I thought I’d share this instead as I’d finished it the other day. I can’t remember the book I sourced the original text from, this being amongst some old photocopies I found. Details of today’s prompt are below in case you wanted to try it.

NaPoWriMo prompt: Following up on yesterday’s love poem, I have for you another deceptively simple challenge. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about a very large thing. It could be a mountain or a blue whale or a skyscraper or a planet or the various contenders for the honor of being the Biggest Ball of Twine. Whatever giant thing you choose, I hope this chance to versify in praise of the huge gets your poetic engines humming.

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