by Holly Jahangiri | Apr 4, 2026
Day 4: National Poetry Month
Today’s prompts from Na/GloPoWriMo and Writers Digest PAD were “weather” and “friends.” And while friends may not be obviously incorporated here, the idea led to me to thoughts of how “traditional friends and allies” can turn, unexpectedly – and how “traditional enemies” may be unintentionally emulated through seemingly casual, ordinary actions and interactions. And even while the world burns, the most ordinary things in life go on. I used that dissonance as a springboard, and the storm as both a real thing and a metaphor. Interpret through your own lens.
Storm Front
Stagnant storm clouds glower
to the west. You note the creeping dark
but gather up your errand notes,
your shopping lists, and run them.
Friends mutter, “Interesting
weather.” Give them a safe nod.
“Rains coming.” The whole exchange
feels like B-movie spy code.
It’s old and everything’s a war
run by crime boss caricatures. War
on drugs, war on books, war on women, war
on war – we have a thousand tsars.
Ghost-carts sail on asphalt
wage an ordinary war, bent-out-of-shape
they menace with wall-eyed wheels; you
do battle for a parking space.
You race the grumbling thunder-rain
and its inevitable oncoming,
each transformer-explosion flash
electric – adrenal gland on drums –
Thrums, energized, through veins
a streak not blue enough, zings
a shockwave nerve assault. You
barely make the light that takes you home.
I drafted a first poem, this morning, on Facebook – just idle musings, really (no one said a poem a day had to be 365 good poems) but since I’m lately in the habit of deleting old Facebook posts because they’re no longer timely and relevant, I’m going to share it here.
Divide and Conquer
What would divide us –
keep us weak – if not
religion, borders,
skin, or gender?
Not selfishness
so much as greed,
a need, a craving
to compete. For some
the race to space
was aspirational –
fulfillment of recurring
dreams of curiosity –
while others merely play
at “King of the Hill”
and race to plant a flag,
to stake a claim,
to subjugate the cosmos,
bend it to their will,
and leave it poorer.
Other National Poetry Month Posts
Your Turn!
Do you think most humans naturally enjoy being divided and having someone to compete with? If so, why not engage in competitions that could benefit humanity as a whole? Surely even a large financial prize for the “first” or “best” solution would be less costly than a destructive war and far less cynical.
Would you rather eat at a chain restaurant, where you could safely predict whether you’d like the food – even if you didn’t love it or weren’t excited by it – or at a new restaurant serving foreign (to you, wherever you are in the word) cuisine? How about when you’re traveling to another state or country? Don’t mind me – I’m still depressed by the Burger King in Istanbul and the Popeye’s Chicken at the Ataturk Airport. This morning, I read that there are only 11 authentic, locally-owned Hawaiian restaurants that are not chains. (I didn’t read the whole article and it may or may not be accurate. I hope it was limited to Oahu, which is not “all of the state of Hawaii.” But I will say Maui has become a generic, if pricey, haole haven. <yawn> Not the Hawaii I remember from the 1970s, for sure.)
Any other thoughts? The mic’s all yours (just be kind, be real – the castle goats eat trolls when they gather under the bridge to drink from the moat, and the resident bard freely steals from the spammers to mock them with ribald songs and poetry – so you’ve been warned! Or welcomed. Your choice.)
by Holly Jahangiri | Apr 4, 2026
Day 4: National Poetry Month
See Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts for the prompts I’ll be using (if I use any at all) this month. To the extent possible, I’m determined to combine all three, plus the Blogging A to Z Challenge, each day. That said, I reserve the right not to – despite my conviction that creativity thrives when challenged to overcome constraints.
I recommend reading the daily posts at each of these sites to get a fuller picture of the prompts, though I will summarize them here so you get the general idea:
Be sure to check out some of the Blogging A to Z blogs here, too! And do leave comments – seriously, don’t be shy. Real people who still blog still love to get comments! Egg ’em on! I’m number 81 of 133 on the list, this year.
Looking for more prompts? How about these Poetry Prompts: 100+ Ideas to Inspire Your Next Poem?
Dive
Can you teach a fish to SCUBA dive?
To wear a weighted belt of rocks
tied tight with kelp, and rubber shoes
to cover fins? Can you teach a whale
not to leap for shimmering joy,
breaking surface tension,
making waves, to splash
her sons and daughters –
would you say
it wasn’t “seemly” to be seen
to play, to ride the Gulf Stream
drafting in the wake of ocean liners?
Can you wear your sleek
skinsuit, drink moonlight, dive
and savor saltwater, fresh
and frigid, bioluminescent,
wearing nothing but the weight
of your own thoughts,
tangled in your seaweed hair,
toes’ unfettered fluttering
sending you down, down, down
into a dark, watery embrace?
Inspiration
I’ve tried SCUBA diving. I’m bad at it. I love snorkeling, though. Last time, I even (grudgingly) accepted the requirement and rationale of wearing flippers. Once I got used to them, I really could swim faster and easier with them than without. But that weight belt? I sink like a rock or pop up like a rocket. I cannot maintain equilibrium, so I won’t SCUBA dive lest I take out a coral reef single footedly. Unfortunately, that means I’ll never get to fully explore this amazing, indoor pool: Deep Dive Dubai: Scuba Diving, Freediving, & Snorkelling
Other National Poetry Month Posts
Your Turn!
Do you like to dive? Diving board, free dive, snorkeling, SCUBA?
Have you ever gone swimming with dolphins or whales?
As always, I love to get your comments on this blog, provided you’re a kind human and not a spambot or troll!
by Holly Jahangiri | Apr 3, 2026
A “bonus post” since I jumped the gun before some of the prompts were posted! So here’s the second challenge, to combine the following:
“Open _____ ” and “a poem in which a profession or vocation is described differently than it typically is considered to be.”
Technically, a Writer
Open chat.
Enjoy the cameraderie of writers.
Until the conversation turns
to royalties and contracts,
publishers and agents…
“Have you been published lately?”
They ask, to be polite.
Consider yanking the modem cord from the wall.
“Line noise.” (Lame excuse.)
Then realize that it’s really all
a matter of perspective. Tell them
“Yes,” of course. Tell them
that your last book (you’ve lost count)
was published (because it was)
in more languages than those
of the famous author they adore —
twenty-six, you think. Maybe twenty-eight.
Five million books sold, worldwide.
(So far.) But who’s counting.
Fifteen hundred, two thousand dollars
each, and readers seem happy —
you get paid, right as rain,
every two weeks. You’d tell them
how much, but they’re already green
with envy. “Best part of the deal?”
you say, “Each reader gets a free PC
with every book.”
It’s all a matter of perspective.
Mine.
Inspiration
Another true story. When I was in college, studying Rhetoric & Writing, I dreamed of writing novels for a living. Or getting paid to write – I’d settle for that. After a few years in computer operations and systems engineering, during which I suffered from a massive case of “imposter syndrome,” I was tapped for a job as a technical writer. I didn’t know what that was, but it had the word “writer” in it and it wasn’t a demotion. I write well, I’m technically adept, curious, and a quick learner. I retired, in 2020, after almost 30 years of documenting hardware and software. Much of it was behind-the-scenes work, creating unglamorous but auditor-required internal systems documentation in fields like oil & gas and airline industries, until I went to work for Compaq/HP and wrote User Guides, online Windows Help, and eventually returned to a more technical field – data science, mining tens of thousands of product reviews for customer experience insights.
I have also published children’s books, anthologies of short stories and poetry, non-fiction articles, and blogs. Now, I am President and Webmaster of the Poetry Society of Texas and most of my writing is focused on poetry. But really, when someone asks me, “What do you write?” it’s easier to say what I don’t write. I don’t write about finance. Math was never my favorite subject.
This poem was an actual conversation I had in the Writers’ Ink RoundTable on GEnie in the 1990s — back when we still had modems that plugged into the wall. Probably at 14,400 baud. My books never bore my name, but that’s a blessing in disguise – I still got paid, “right as rain, every two weeks!” and didn’t have to field support questions. Ironically, a good chunk of my time, now, is spent fielding support questions from writers. About Windows and Word, self-publishing platforms, book covers, websites and blogs, copyright issues…
And lets not forget “how to answer a call on my Samsung Galaxy phone.” I’m hoping that, for once, you’re here for the poetry.
About the Prompts & Challenge for April
See Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts for the prompts I’ll be using (if I use any at all) this month. To the extent possible, I’m determined to combine all three, plus the Blogging A to Z Challenge, each day. That said, I reserve the right not to – despite my conviction that creativity thrives when challenged to overcome constraints.
I recommend reading the daily posts at each of these sites to get a fuller picture of the prompts, though I will summarize them here so you get the general idea:
Be sure to check out some of the Blogging A to Z blogs here, too! And do leave comments – seriously, don’t be shy. Real people who still blog still love to get comments! Egg ’em on! I’m number 81 of 133 on the list, this year.
Other National Poetry Month Posts
Your Turn!
How might you look at your current job from a different perspective?
As always, I appreciate your comments – please leave one before you leave! And come back for more conversation. You can subscribe to get new posts and follow-up comments. If you subscribe to my Substack, you’ll occasionally get a little digest of new posts and random observations. No spam from me, and no cost to subscribe, I promise!
by Holly Jahangiri | Apr 3, 2026
Day 3: National Poetry Month
See Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts for the prompts I’ll be using (if I use any at all) this month. To the extent possible, I’m determined to combine all three, plus the Blogging A to Z Challenge, each day. That said, I reserve the right not to – despite my conviction that creativity thrives when challenged to overcome constraints.
I recommend reading the daily posts at each of these sites to get a fuller picture of the prompts, though I will summarize them here so you get the general idea:
Be sure to check out some of the Blogging A to Z blogs here, too! And do leave comments – seriously, don’t be shy. Real people who still blog still love to get comments! Egg ’em on! I’m number 81 of 133 on the list, this year.
The following takes its prompt from my blog's own spam folder and the 3rd prompt from Poets Northwest. I'm not sure if it's better than the spam that provoked it, but it was a quick, fun write. I still owe another that incorporates NaGloPoWriMo and PAD, but now I'm ahead of myself!
Cacophony and CBD
My comments section's full of noise
and sploggers hawking drugs and toys
for sex and status, lows and highs;
Fraudsters, all - no big surprise
that I, too, can employ their tricks
to entertain and garner clicks!
I'll use their keywords, one and all
and hope to see their incomes fall
as I supply the mental munchies,
poetry, cerebral "crunchies."
What do spammers have to offer?
Nothing, nothing! Yet they proffer
fresh, botanical aroma -
likely result, of course, a coma!
With purposely distinct abstruseness
they create a mental looseness
in solitary and assertive scent
(like skunk, I think, is what they meant).
Each taste, they promise, logical
and chewy, disproportional.
With side-eye cast at Ravelry,
send in the crochet cavelry!
They claim their crock is closely-knit
(I think their claims are full of shit!)
This petty poem's good revenge
and dissipates my ire -
if only it were better fuel
I'd throw it in a fire.
Other National Poetry Month Posts
Your Turn!
Only the Best Spam
My poet friends claim I get "the best spam." I don't. But should you like to try your hand at a little "found" poetry, I'm happy to share. Here are excerpts from the originals (without the spurious links, of course!)
delivers a unconventional, botanical savour with visible abstruseness and character. Each note blends logically, creating a discriminating diagram willingly prefer than a isolated dominant scent. The result arrived well packaged, with intricate descriptions included. It feels accordance and professionally made, with supremacy understandable from first indentation to end use
delivers a fresh, botanical aroma with distinct abstruseness and character. Each note blends as a consequence, creating a fastidious diagram slightly than a solitary assertive scent. The yield arrived plainly packaged, with thorough descriptions included. It feels steadfast and professionally made, with attribute evident from foremost mark to final use
each chequer tastes logical rather than disproportionately counterfeit, and the feel is pleasantly chewy. The crock seals tensely, which keeps them latest and easy as pie to store looking for longer periods
has a orderly, equable consistency that spreads easily. The container is closely-knit and travel-friendly, and the lid closes securely. The scent is incandescence and botanical, which makes it lovely to camouflage b confine nearby
Feel free to leave your comments, poems (no links unless it's to your own blog and not one hawking illegal goods!), etc. below.
by Holly Jahangiri | Apr 2, 2026
Day 2: National Poetry Month
See Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts for the prompts I’ll be using (if I use any at all) this month. To the extent possible, I’m determined to combine all three, plus the Blogging A to Z Challenge, each day. That said, I reserve the right not to – despite my conviction that creativity thrives when challenged to overcome constraints.
I recommend reading the daily posts at each of these sites to get a fuller picture of the prompts, though I will summarize them here so you get the general idea:
Be sure to check out some of the Blogging A to Z blogs here, too! And do leave comments – seriously, don’t be shy. Real people who still blog still love to get comments! Egg ’em on! I’m number 81 of 133 on the list, this year.
For day 2, my personal challenge is to write an “express poem” – again, not a form, but my interpretation of the word “express” – to “recount a childhood memory,” and to incorporate or be inspired by the word “ubiquitous.” And to start the title of this blog post, if not the poem itself, with the letter “B.”
Bee Sting
Running barefoot
through pink and white clover
heedless of anything but summer
sweat and sunshine, sweet lure
of lemonade, links on the grill –
sharp, sudden sting – howling –
bottom plop, right in a patch
of honeybees and shamrocks.
Childhood memories last
a thousand lifetimes
longer than a bee’s.
Express
I used line length to hopefully capture the child running, plopping into the grass, then the relative shortness of a bee’s life compared to a human’s memories of childhood.
Of course, there’s also the literal “expression” of joy in running barefoot outside on a sunny day, followed by pain and indignation of getting a bee sting in the child’s howling.
Ubiquitous
I chose not to use the word, itself, but to hint at it in the child’s plopping down right in the midst of bees and clover.
Childhood Memory
When I was little, we went to my grandfather’s company picnic. Everything in this poem is a simple recounting of what happened. What I didn’t mention in the poem is that his secretary was the first to hear my howl and ran over to help me. What I remember most vividly is her incredibly long nails. I had already yanked that poor bee right off its stinger, but the stinger was still stuck in my foot with its tiny venom sac still hanging from it like a teardrop. She pulled the stinger out with her nails, careful not to squeeze the sac so as not to deliver the full payload into my little foot. I have no idea how I only got stung once, by the way, other than sheer dumb luck, after I sat right in that large patch of clover!
Other National Poetry Month Posts
Your Turn!
Please, leave a comment, a poem, a prompt – I’d love to hear from you.
