the first time i saw obsidian [planetian memoir] (12/30)

Describe in great detail your favorite room, place, meal, day, or person. You can do this in paragraph form.

Now cut unnecessary words like articles and determiners (a, the, that) and anything that isn’t really necessary for content; leave mainly nouns, verbs, a few adjectives.

came up the dark side of our new home

a world blown from green glass and tar

sharp edges, mountains pricking stars

it made me feel so alone/

her black face looked at a blushing moon

beacon called us from starburst sand

violet ocean turned the eastern horizon

we landed at long night’s end/

every direction was grandiose

long low valleys full of tiny black gems

two of our kind walked out to meet us

two who we’d counted as dead, gone/

only one smiled when they offered their hands

she was child-swollen in absence of man

these had survived this impossible beauty

this was the prophesied land/

they never explained why they hadn’t sent notice

they never explained all their silence

the longer i live in this exquisite blackness

the deeper i understand

upon being discovered (11/30)

just finished my 8th event in five days and today’s official prompt feels too hard for me but i do have a poem.

this is from aya’s last journal, which e— hid before aya could have it destroyed, and kept in spite of the edict to release the queen’s non-poetic memories.

she’s not speaking to me

the ship appeared
on the seventh cycle of night
a stain spreading on our
vermillion moon

i hadn’t turned off the trace
we hadn’t agreed
i’d left us beacon, calling

she’s furious
she says i don’t love
not the way she does

she says i’ve broken her

she’ll forgive me –
what she asked was too selfish
to make this planet our island
to live until we died?

and what of our miracle child?
to leave them
in some ultimate solitary cell
afloat in the fulness?

there is room on obsidian
we can still live our lives
our eternal duet

we can hold ourselves apart

she says they will reel us in
to their experiment of
building a world

seeing the mote there
steadily blotting out the
small and molten moon
i had a moment’s doubt

could the rest of our days
be this isolated pleasure
the unknown of only each other
the sweetest living i’ve known

what kind of love
makes us forsake our people?
it would be better not to love
than to become so myopic

she will forgive me.

i told her we were to mean
more to history than
a pile of bones amongst
glowrocks on the edge of
a baby solar system

she said
bones that know joy
are never alone

principles of obsidian, a new world (10/30)

write an abecedarian poem – a poem with a structure derived from the alphabet.

when other people came to the planet that queens aya and e— had discovered, there was a need to name it, and to name the ways of the place. e— chose the name obsidian, both because that’s how the planet appeared when approached on its night side, and because she wanted to glorify blackness at every location in the creation of the new world. aya thought it sounded pretty and increased the chance of dragons coming, though she couldn’t explain why.

together they developed principles for the newcomers, which have of course shifted over the years. these are found original carvings on the trees along the central xyst, further expanded from e—‘s teaching memories.


(there is an) abundance beyond capital (that) deepens evolution

(there is a rush of) freedom (that) generates (fullness of the) heart

(when we are) interdependent (our) justice (is) kinetic

love (is a no more or less than a miraculous) mirror neuron

orgasmic pleasure quickens revolution

quiet (reflection cultivates and) releases self-wonder

(the dynamic practice of) totality (allows us to truly) understand variance (in ourselves and the galaxies)

(we must often) wander (the) xysts (to feel it all, and return to) zen

the first child (9/30)

Write a visual poem. I will attempt to write a poem shaped like a pregnant queen.

she is
that e— lives
lives inside of me
that we bent creation
that we curved our science
became frantic and fertile
to spark her life in me
all non believers far
we had room to
will this
dream her
whisper &
seed spell
touch &
open &

an aubade from aya (6/30)

write an aubade (a song from a door or window to a sleeping woman, a morning love song).

the land is quiet between us

for months we face this sun
growing impossibly hot indoors

she magics a canopy between our fields
demands we drag out the bed

i say the illogical rain will catch us
but she’s right
the wind is all night warm and soothing
we wake on this small and glittering earth
find ourselves shimmering skin

now i watch her from the station
dawn shift, in our conjured time

her thighs spread heavy on white,
my ink plume,
grav belt her only cover
wide and silver at her hips

there is no one so beautiful to me
in all the galaxies
though she won’t hear it

just last day
her warrior eyes on the horizon
she told me not to tell them we found this,
‘they are ruin’ she whispered

so. she thinks i am miraculous.

for me, here, she smiles
and even now, in her sleep,
with the loud sun between us
that sort of moonlight
brings me home

e— reads aya dickinson on the new world

napowrimo prompt 5: rewrite a poem from emily dickinson with your own spacing and punctuation.

i did this, as well as adding some interjections from queen aya, who claims not to love dickinson.

now i knew
i lost her.

how tragic.

not that she was gone


but remoteness travelled on her face

ah. I know that look.

and tongue

lover, did you suck my tongue, before?

alien, though adjoining as a foreign race

the glymphot for example. the thrakzly. the shmardue.

traversed she, though pausing…
latitudeless place!
elements unaltered!

like gold but muted.
like fire but flameless.
a gentle knife,
a subtle wonder

universe? the same. but
love’s transmigration?

from where you are, to within me? like this?

somehow, this had come

come and become i daresay

henceforth to remember
nature took the day i had paid so much for

made of it a castle for lonely queens
made of it a prison for wounded hearts
made of it an art

(hers) is penury


not who toils for freedom
or for family

or anything outside of this room

but the restitution of idolatry.

i love it.
now – come worship me.

aya and e— speak of emotion (4/30)

day 4 prompt: I challenge you to write a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows.

aya and e— speak of emotion

you taste like metal and fire.
i claim you as my blood moon
my favorite of the rare phenomena,
brief and breathless.

you do worse than that, queen.
you dismiss the shadows
til i’m a foolish orbit
i feel so small and imperfect in all that light

gift me darkness

no, that’s a different season, night
here, now
i can only offer you me, selfish and swollen –

but that’s precisely what i mean
it’s that you swallow me up
and i would actually live inside of you
on whatever world you go to

(laughing) but then i couldn’t see you
obsidian, sharp, bright, gorgeous…
anyway, there’s only the world we make.

hold me closer. cover my eyes with your hair.

i’m already dreaming of you tonight.
tomorrow we should turn the field.

tomorrow we should make the map
organize the pantry

and see about the water
and talk with more of the ghosts

yes. we can do all things, or no things.
it’s all exquisite. do you feel that vastness?

this vastness. this this this.

if we are quiet, we can live here forever

that’s what i mean, precisely.
you, you are the forever i always wanted.

e— recalls creating (3/30)

day 3 prompt: write a fourteener. fourteeners can be have any number of lines, but each line should have fourteen syllables

e— journal entry 3/26/R1259

we are building a home we know from dreams and the darkness
it isn’t wood, but it lives, it grows and it knows our names
we whisper up walls which glow when the light is near fading
we learn, forget all the borders and lies we were raised in

aya is a warm stone huddled inside my healing womb
i ask the sacrifice of the fleshed up m’xjulls, feed us
we lay on the shifting floor sucking meat from our fingers
she says we could never be lost, dull, lonely or easy

she laughs when i call her queen, mounts the throne for my pleasure
we are so deeply alone, but i don’t miss the others
she sings me songs that she plucks fully formed from her memories
if the new world is in us, i can hush and be hopeful