The Poetry Marathon

Are there any questions?

reverberating through my blurred hazy mind,

pounding on my eardrums,

heard but incomprehensible.

My mouth parched,

Heart thumping in my chest!

Are there any questions?

Are there any questions?

I had many, but my frozen brain

could not formulate any,

My dry mouth could not articulate any!

Are there any questions?

Are there any questions?

Are there any questions?

Like a death penalty pronounced.

Fear ebbing and crashing like the incessant tide.

” Are there any questions ?”

he asked as he gently put his gentle comforting hands on my shoulder,

“We have to remove that decayed cavity ” he said again as wave upon wave of fear washed over me.

Are there any questions ? Last line from the book ” The handmaidens tale” written by

Margaret Altwood

Dear Almighty God!

Dear Almighty God!

Dear Almighty God!

Safeguard us from this dreaded disease.

For those that are afflicted,  grant comfort and ease.

Remove from this earth , this pandemic.

Remove from this earth, any epidemic.

For those that have lost their loved,

grant them strength to deal with the loss of their beloved.

For those that are no more,

grant them entrance to Your Kingdoms door.

For those whose livelihood has been affected

from financial ruin save them from being afflicted.

Grant them sustenance greater.

You who are our Provider!

O God Almighty!

O God Almighty!

O God Almighty!

To You do we turn for mercy!

An eternal friendship,

chosen for you, not by you!

Siblings and cousins,

in your life to add a colorful hue.

Immature n irrelevant fights in childhood,

developing in adulthood into strong loyal bond,

bound by blood and sealed with love,

in troubled times, they will always respond.

Even though separated by roads rivers n seas,

we are still able to constantly keep in contact, via social media chats and videos

So that our family love will not divide or subtract.

My sibling n all my cousins are great, in deed,

a thumbs up for proposing this topic, Cousin Fareed!!!

Death is just the beginning,

not the ending.

A close of one chapter,

to begin another.

Our souls are trapped and bound

to our human body.

Death is a release towards immortality.

Emancipated, a beautiful butterfly flutters away

leaving behind its pupae to decay.

Alike, a rotted body is left behind

as the soul towards God will find.

Life us just but a stage of a journey.

Death is the door to eternity.

Death is the beginning of immortality.

I am John Wick and you may have seen my movie,

but here is my story, in poetic poetry.

I was an assassin, but had given up the criminal life,

so that I can be with my love, my wife.

She then became ill, died and just like that she was gone,

gifting me a dog, to make it bearable to mourn.

The mafia stole my Camaro and my dog they killed.

They awoke the devil in me, that was once stilled.

I declared war and prepared myself for revenge,

to get back my car, and my puppy to avenge.

The body count rise as I kill and fight.

Beware, you thieves that had unjustly trampled on my right.

Safety and honour is secured as I check into Hotel Continental,

but my war cry leads me to break the rules so fundamental.

I kill all the baddies and retrieve my car,

you should not have messed with me, a fighting persona.

But it does not end there, there is a twist to my story,

Tune into next years marathon poetry,

when all will be revealed,

in John Wick Chapters Two and Three!

From my mouth, to my ear, to my brain,

such unbearable, excruciating, pulsating pain.

A cavity, it’s all about,

your wisdom, said the dentist, we must pull out.

I am a strong man, if you are not aware,

but dentists, they scare me, I do declare!

The needles and drills on the side, looks intimidating,

enough to almost send me in a frenzy of fainting

“Open your mouth wide, you’ll just feel a prick”

“Oh my word, the needle is the size of an ice-pick!”

My mouth goes numb as I clutched my wife’s hand in a vice grip of panic.

This scary dentist makes me sick, sick, sick.

With a heave and a pull and a crack and a blood curdling cry,

My wisdom is out, the experience, almost enough to make me die.

“Spit in this bowl, if you have any dribble”

“Unge! Unge! Unge! ” is all my numb mouth can mumble.

I am now less of a whizz and more dumb!

Bereft am I of any wisdom!

Wisdom-less!

The cottage was scary looking and desolate,

at the edge of the forest.

The drone, also known as “Firefly” by its owner

hovered above.

Its owner waiting at the treeline,

scouting and surveiling the area.

The heat unusually, scorchingly oppressive.

“Okay, Firefly”  he hoarsely whispered.

“Let’s see who is in the cottage” he said,

as he lowered the drone and zoomed in

on the high resolution camera.

“Oh my God” he exclaimed!

at the strange demonic, slimy porridge, alien sight.

Then…….

Beep! Beeep! Beep!  Firefly fell to the ground!

Electromagnetic Pulse frying its motherboard

with a sizzling sound!

We will never know what really happened there,

as the owner and Firefly disappeared in thin air!

Alexandra Park in Pietermaritzburg, what a sight!

In my childhood, a frequent delight,

set on the outskirts of the city,

blossoming flowers, green grass and huge trees, so shady.

Weekends, my parents will take us to the park for fun,

to play on the swings or wildly run.

In my teens, my brother, cousins and I, planned a picnic,

to Alexandra Park for adventure and frolic.

We prepared snacks and walked a long way,

playing games, relaxing and just enjoying a great day.

Alexandra Park, a place close to my heart,

that is where my driving lessons did start.

Wide open spaces, easy the car to navigate,

without any road users to irritate.

Across the road, a Victorian cricket stadium so scenic.

we saw local and national teams play, that makes me nostalgic.

In May, “Cars in the Park” was hosted,

a display of vintage to sports cars, displayed and boasted.

Alexandra Park, a childhood place of happiness,

with fond memories, I do miss.

From the current protest, without diminishing its value.

Every Life Matters, should be the chant anew.

Collateral damage should not be applied to any life.

Upliftment of each other, we must strive.

A mother who gives birth to a child stillborn,

A child who loses his father in a land war torn.

A father who has to bury his youthful son, murdered.

To somebody or the other, every life mattered.

To quote a Zen proverb, so apt:

” One falling leaf, is just not one leaf,

it means the whole autumn.

Hence one falling life, is not just a loss to a family,

it is a loss to the entire humanity.

As the sun sets and gives way to the shimmering stars,

the gentle lapping of the water on the bow of the boat,

I search for and entwine my fingers in your warm, soft hands.

As the night sets in,

a sliver of the luminescent moon,

reflects off the still water and kisses your cheek.

Breathtakingly beautiful, you are in this glow,

My heart constricts in this moment,

out of love for you.

I reach out to bring you closer to me,

to embrace you.

The boat rocks gently, as our lips meet,

your fragrance permeates the still air,

all else melts away, just you and I

under the starry, moonlit night.