History of National Poetry Writing Month

National Poetry Writing Month (also known as NaPoWriMo) is a creative writing project held annually in April in which participants attempt to write a poem each day for one month. NaPoWriMo coincides with National Poetry Month in the United States of America and Canada.

This website is owned and operated by Maureen Thorson, a poet living in Washington, DC. Inspired by NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month), she started writing a poem a day for the month of April back in 2003, posting the poems on her blog. When other people started writing poems for April and posting them on their own blogs, Maureen linked to them. After a few years, so many people were doing NaPoWriMo that Maureen decided to launch an independent website for the project.

My History with National Poetry Writing Month

I started writing poetry in 1988 after I had been exposed to T.S. Elliot in my honors English class in high school. In 1992 I started reading my poetry publicly at Espresso Europia Coffee Shop in Abilene Tx while I was in the United States Air Force. While living in Rockford Illinois I published my first book of poetry Throwing Yourself at the Ground and Missing in 2007 followed by Postcards From Someone You Don't Know in 2008 Wisdom From the Sack in 2010 and Shaving Crop Circles In My Chest Hair in 2017. You can get copies of all of these books in my merch section. In 2020 I started publishing my podcast version of the challenge and those can be viewed here for 2020 and here for 2021.

What I am doing differently for Poetry Month

For 2023 I am not going to be just writing poems in April, I will be writing poems all year round. Also, since I will be writing all year round, I am using a different source for my prompts. There is a blog called Think Written and you can find it here. I will also be performing these works at Katora Coffee House here in Fredericksburg Virginia on their Friday Night Snaps Open Mic Poetry reading. Some of the podcast episodes you will hear will be a live recording of me reading the poem to a live audience, other times I will be reading it in the comfort of my home studio. I do plan on posting my work to the NaPoWriMo site and interacting with the poets there and see if they want to read their work on this podcast.

Todays Poetry Prompt

Cafeteria: Create a poem inspired by the people who might be eating lunch in a cafeteria at school or at a hospital. 

Chicken Enchilada  

17 April 2023 

I was back in Illinois 

Not my hometown or the city I adopted 

But a small-town dependent on the base 

I had just puddle-jumped from St. Louis 

When in processing was done 

And I had raised my hand when asked  

Who was a musician 

I was whisked away to a special squadron 

A small group of us who raised our hands 

Stood in the day room of the squadron 

We were given rooms  

And a tour of our new temporary home 

We were told to drop off our luggage 

And return later that afternoon 

So, we all silently went to our rooms 

I knew at that time to pack lightly 

To tread lightly on this Earth 

And as I opened the door to my new home 

My new roommate was not there 

Heading back down to the dining facility 

I wanted to have a few moments of solitude   

I’d just spent 6 weeks living with 50 other soon-to-be men 

And my sociability jar had been exhausted 

Working my way through the food line 

Looking over my shoulder 

Waiting for a training instructor to slip in behind me 

And scare the shit out of me 

My head was on a swivel  

I grabbed the bare essentials for lunch 

Not wanting to draw attention to myself 

I crawled into an empty booth 

Breathed deeply and went to work on the food 

I tasted my food 

It had been weeks of rushing to shove groceries down my throat 

But now I had nowhere to be, no one to answer to for a few minutes 

I savored each bite 

It was at that time I was overcome with a feeling of certitude 

I felt that the decision was right 

It had been one of the first times I felt this way 

And the food cemented my feeling 

I am not sure how long I sat alone in that booth 

Others came and went without much fanfare 

My comrades in basic training found me 

And we all sat quietly  

Deep in thought 

Living like the kings we told ourselves we were 

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