NaPoWriMo 2025
resonant whispers - my new NaPoWriMo sequence for this year
People know I have been doing NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) for some years now, spending years following the prompts before moving on to a narrative series of poetry—the Ghost Story Sequence and then moving onto more technical, classic forms of poetry for example - Haikus and Sonnets.
For 2025, stepping away from Haikus and Sonnets, I will be writing short, intimate pieces, reflections you could say, capturing the quiet moments and lingering feelings that shape our lives. Ghosts, personal experiences, raw emotions and the subtle beauty of the everyday.
For 2025, I will be stripping down my poetry to just two lines per poem, with a / in between each line to offer a breath to strip each poem and moment into its purest form, creating a collection of resonant whispers, poetry to bloom within the sparsest of lines.
I will also attempt to piece on some of the prompts (Not promising all) - these will be found here listed separate.
*
(I)
Your ex describes you both on Facebook as a good-looking couple / the envy sneaks through in just a few words.
(II)
Stepping over the fence to the woods / the mud from the previous night’s rain pushes you both back in just a few moments.
(III)
Realising it was the 1st of April opening the newspaper / the joke isn’t lost on you when you see the latest newspaper headlines.
(IV)
Shutting the front door behind you / the goodbye doesn’t hit until you have got off the bus at the end of your journey.
(V)
You went to Milan together the newspaper article said / A week later you went to Rome by yourself.
(VI)
You find by chance a termination letter from an old job around the back of your microwave / still fills you with anger years later.
*
(VII)
You planned to go out shopping at your local mall / the heavy rain said not today, try tomorrow.
(VIII)
Her soft mouth bends to hers /he looks away, the guilt rampant in his eyes.
(IX)
Her soft mouth bends to hers/he looks away, the guilt rampant in his eyes.
(X)
Unfurled you look down at his mobile phone / switching it off, you know he won’t be switching it back again in a burry.
(XI)
Waiting there outside the bar clearly on a date like a ornament / you see a brief breeze mess up his hair and with that his confidence.
(XII)
Cleaning the flat / your friend rings you up unexpectedly to tell you he got divorced yesterday.
(XIII)
A Cat stops at the edge of your car park / the sound of heavy rain reminds you both it should have stayed inside like you
(XIV)
An old classmate uploads a class photograph from your last year in school / it shames you; you don't remember all of the faces now.
(XV)
You watch your friend's suitcase snap when it shuts / you and your brother have to turn away not to start laughing.
(XVI)
Ringing in the toilets / You don't tell anybody when you step outside that somebody's phone had being ringing unloved.
(XVII)
Opening up your girlfriend’s Piano / you don’t have the heart to tell it is out of tune within seconds of starting to play it.
(XVIII)
You pick up one book to read and then look at another / Can’t make up what style suits your mood today.
(XIX)
The end of the war is buried in fading paper / the relief showing in the main headline still carrying a relief eighty years later.
(XX)
The door stands ajar, not quite shut / a mobile keeps ringing almost like there is nobody there to now answer it.