Communication (Not at all)

 

Engifted with new technology,

I wonder what’s left of our ideology,

What remains from our imaginations,

What hopes remains in our visions.

 

When answers automatically pop-up without a question,

Will these still be important?

What are the mysteries remains?

Is there humanity left to sustain?

 

When can we easily reach people from afar?

Is a virtually meet-up will be enough?

Will a chat be our new communication, Or not at all?

I hope we keep the deep conversation.

 

We exchange smiles through emojis,

And other emotions left unsaid,

We fight trolls through our keyboard,

Not knowing they all stuck in our heads.

 

Technology becomes dominant in this modern world,

But what else will be replaced after this?

Our lives? Our Deep communication and Connection?

I hope not, not at all.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR14 #24HRSCATEGORY

Perfect Combination

 

“Perfect Combination”

 

A walk through the pedestrian,

With my black and white stripe jeans,

The only thing that I can call perfect for now,

Is my perfect combination outfit,

That finally fits to the world misfits.

An echoe that I finally find my place,

My spot under the sun.

For once I’m the head turner one,

No one can protest,

My spot.

 

#PoetryMarathon2023 #HOUR13 #24HRSCATEGORY

“Circle Of Life”

You’ll got to do what you got to do,

And so, life will present one for you.

A symbol of you,

And what you present,

Is what life will present to you.

Karma is a shadow,

Following you around,

It’s a full circle,

Up and down.

And what goes around,

Comes back,

No Doubt.

 

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR12 #24HRSCATEGORY

“The Hidden Path”

 

 

A story from old grandma as I reminisce,

A hidden path across the lake drawn my eye,

She said, beyond the bushes there you’ll see.

An old forgotten mystery.

A runaway princess was last seen.

 

Hidden behind a magic spell.

Never heard, after midnight,

A runaway of the world,

A mystery unresolved.

A broken heart that was lost,

I guess, that is the most.

Some things are out of cost,

Found and Lost.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR11 #24HRSCATEGORY

“What Is Love?”

“What Is Love?”

 

___

Love? Is something that I’m afraid to try,

Despite the ambrosial temptation behind every word,

A romantic action or a feeling.

A limerence aftermath,

After a deep conversation,

Or an eye-to-eye contact.

 

Love? Is something I doubt my whole life.

It’s like a turbid ebb of reality slapping you back and forth.

It left you a red mark on your face,

It left you hanging, less breathing after a race,

Then, left you with no trace.

Kept you running, without even moving.

 

Love? Is a hoax serendipity,

Throwing a coin on a fountain,

Or meeting a guy on a train,

Such random acts won’t last a lifetime.

What else would’ve last?

If not love?  What is.

What is love?

 

Text Prompt

The first three words of your title should be “what is love”That can be your whole title, in and of itself, probably followed by a question mark, or you can add more context onto the title before proceeding to the poem itself.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR10 #24HRSCATEGORY

“The Secret Cabin”

 

The Cabin’s lightbulb flicker on and off,

On a Friday night once more.

Its quite cold for an early September,

A perfect time for a beet.

One thing I can remember.

Is my full bucket blessed in harvest,

With my red jacket on,

Across the bayou view,

It’s a perfect quiet day,

An art translated for before the sunset go away.

I’m on my way back to the cabin,

With a lightbulb that flicker on and off.

 

 

Text Prompt:

Below is a list of ten words. Please pick at least five of them to use in your poem. If you want to use all ten, please do so.

Beet, jacket, tremor, bayou, elbow, lightbulb, cinnamon, bucket, elk, carport

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR09  #24HRSCATEGORY

“Astrophile”

 

If there is a miracle that I know,

Is the fact that the mystery of the universe is yet to be resolved.

Questions keep knocking on our door,

And every answer leads to more.

The vastness of the universe expands beyond our imagination.

There is no limitation, only our way of thoughts.

Our doubts and fears only boxed us to death,

And we’ll never know what’s going to happen next.

Each star consists of planet that can be a home of advance humans,

Or entities that we never know,

They might be just lurking, hiding to a no show,

What else can we see?

Only the universe can guarantee.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR08  #24HRSCATEGORY

 

“Changes leads to goodbye”

Changes leads to goodbye,

For the first time in September,

I worried on where I’m going,

On what I’m after,

On where I was before,

I worried on everything that happened.

And happens simultaneously.

It’s like a tapestry of events,

Happening once more.

 

They say, it all leads me to open doors.

Changes leads to goodbye,

I have accepted the fact before I turned thirty,

That I would be chasing time,

Again, and again and again,

Slowly, or maybe running fast as I can,

I’ll maybe out of breath

Or losing it before I reach the end.

 

Life is a hard game to play,

Ironically, it will lead to our fated place,

Changes leads to goodbye,

Even it hurts sometimes,

Breaks us repeatedly,

But it will take us through,

It will take me to you.

 

Text Prompt:

Every year I made sure to include at least one formal poem. The viator is a poetic form invented by Robin Skelton. I first encountered it as part of Robert Lee Brewer’s Writer’s Digest Poetic Forms Friday series.

It’s a simple form where the first line is used again as refrain in the second line of the second stanza, and the third line of the third stanza, and so on and so forth depending on how many stanzas you include.

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR07  #24HRSCATEGORY

“Photography”

 

Photography is a silent poetry,

Words transceded to images,

Where your eyes can see,

And your heart can feel.

Its an art mystery,

Clutch strong in our memory,

Proclaim its territory

And knock us down to feel.

It ain’t just a random imagery,

Its poetic,

Its raw,

Its real.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR06 #24HRSCATEGORY

“The twin affair”

 

 

Up at the attic,

I saw my twin,

Hang her head, I watch her dead.

I promised not to speak,

Everything’s a bleak.

She wishes for this to happened,

She ends her despair.

Back then, we played a lot of hide and seek,

She catches me weak,

And so, I ponder why she’d go?

And made me promised to hide what I know.

We played houses, make-believe roles,

She owned kitchen sets where she used to steal,

She said, it will be a quick feel.

Cut my fingers off, hammered me down,

And then She told mom, that I run of off town,

Now, I’m back with my night gown,

A minute, a little late

To town.

 

 

Text Prompt : Write a mystery poem. The crime could be real or imagined. The poem could be clue based or narrative. The details are up to you.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR05  #24HRSCATEGORY