The Poetry Marathon

Endless tunnels to countless caves to inviting darkness

Hmmm

I seem to have forgotten my ‘walking into the mouth of madness boots’ at home today.

Welcome, welcome, step right up!

Let us show you treasures to ease your mind and comfort your soul.

Just bring your wallet, or bring your gold

We have all that your loved one would ever need or desire; for that journey into the great unknown.

On your right we have a lovely collection of breathtaking urns;

Intricately carved, masterfully crafted, passionately painted, brazenly bejeweled.

Take a look, take a look; you may want to take one home for the mantel

Just for a spin

On your left we have the most lavish artisanal boxes made of the finest wood;

Skillfully designed, lacquered to perfection, lined with the most luxurious satins, silks and velvets.

Customized to your requests; feel free to touch, feel free to linger

There’s no shame.

We are not the dealers of death

We are just here to ease your pain;

Please pay no mind to what we gain.

In this business of dirt to dirt and dust to dust,

It’s more important to show the world you care enough

To choose the most elaborate soulless vessel to house the remains.

If you don’t play with your piano it will run away.

I know, because I met one, nestled in between beech trees and so many kinds of ancient greens and wild flowers

Whispering, ever so softly on the wind, for someone to come and play.

I would sneak out every night from the red barn house with my copper lantern glowing softly, lighting my way.

We would sing and dance and play for hours in the woods surrounded by the laughter of faeries and fiddlehead ferns.

You haunt my future and sear my soul, with ominous unpleasant doings.

I don’t want to acknowledge you

But I fail to Ignore you

Do I dig in and stay for the revolution?

Or do I close my eyes and simply salt my wounds?

The page opens to snow on a field: boot holed month, black hour/ the bottle in your coat half vodka half winter light./ To what and to whom does one say yes?

Excerpt from Elegy – Carolyn Forche

I see you, sneaky moon

Still lingering in the morning sky

You should really go home.

Soft sad cries just beyond my bedroom door

Her world may be ending, as I try to steal some more time, in the quiet cool darkness.

I have no choice, pleading for my own sanity makes no impression.

I relinquish and follow her down the dark hallway, and she guides me to her destination

She clings to the walls for support, as if weakened by her long solitary nighttime journey

Anticipation is heavy in the air

I can almost hear her heart beating through her thick fur coat,

As I empty the contents of a can of turkey giblets and gravy into the bowl.

All is well with the world again

I can go back to sleep now

Hello Fellow Poetry Peeps!

Excited to join my first poetry marathon. By Friday evening, my humble kitchen will be well stocked with coffee and chocolate. I suppose it would be a good idea to get some fruits and veggies…or other savory treats!  Until the wee hours of Saturday Morning (as my ‘marathoning’ will commence on Pacific Time), adieu and bonne chance!