The Poetry Marathon

my cyclamen is still alive

believe me it’s a miracle

the second flush of flowers bloom

all pink and poised and lyrical

its perfect little potted place

is perched above the microwave

beside a friendly maidenhair

fern of a feather misbehave

the sun through grimy window casts

filtered sunlight on their leaves

their artificial man made home

has beauty only a plant perceives

when once illegible scratches

emerged as readable text

i attached myself

to the library shelf

ecstatic for what came next

I lost myself between pages

in fantastic worlds was found

I’m a bibliophile

with an ear to ear smile

my love for books knows no bounds

twenty four poems

twenty four hours- Oh my God

feeling the pressure

You may have seen them

walk the city streets, wild

costumes, characters in

high definition real 3D

they’ve found their muchness

in op-shops or online

they are masters

of crafting foam,

wielding weaponized

hot glue guns and

months of days in

sewing rooms to bring to you

Bat man or Harley Quinn

A storm trooper or Doctor Who

Anime and gamer’s too

No one is excluded from

this community of

fancy dressing super hero friends.

cosplayers rule.

I’ve hit a wall. What type of wall?

wall of bricks? wall of sticks?

wall of “no more writing tricks”

wall of noise? wall of boys?

wall my empty mind employs

wall of wait, high and straight

wall of let’s procrastinate.

My precious little tyke woke me up before first light

voice like the flocks of parakeets in the trees at the

transit center, a wall of noise of voluminous magnitude

makes me smile as I cringe into my pillow.

it’s too early, but never too early to see

his smile, his eyes lit up like picture screens

full of action and love and music and he’s

singing, serenading my weary body as I

switch on the kettle. he knows all the words,

trust me, he’ll say them all before 10 am and he

hugs me and his hugs smell like sunshine of course,

they dance together, in and out, sparkling

all day long. he is the song, the ear-worm

in my head that I’ll never stop singing along to.

yellow rainbow

first food

put me in

a writing mood

monkeys favorite

playful phone

I can’t do this

on my own

all night coffee

and red wine

you’re a morning

friend of mine

crack your neck

peel off your skin

this just got dark

and made me grin

Echinacea, garlic, zinc, and C

supposed to boost immunity

but sick commuters on the train

have coughed their germs all over me

I sanitize my hands again

brain dead zombie says

coffee no work- mashes keys

me go sleep now please

so very sleepy

my eyes close against my will

need them open now