The Poetry Marathon

The transformation came so fast

At a warehouse party moving dancing laughing
Shoved and pushed to the floor
Stench of death hit before the ferocious gnawing

Tried flailing
couldn’t move couldn’t grab couldn’t claw – all numb
hands stopped working

Tried screaming
couldn’t speak couldn’t talk couldn’t yell – only gurgle
Neck was broken

Tried to find an exit
couldn’t see couldn’t look couldn’t hear – only smell
Eyes and ears were missing

And then it hit me again
The smell
this time sweet
inviting consuming divine energy

Writhing on the floor next to me – someone familiar
soft and supple
plentiful and easy to swallow
like a wet vein filled marshmallow – delicious
elixir for the dead

Slowly I moved
moaning dragging lumbering
into the night
my skull face beaming in the moon shadow.

Here they come
chatting and gawking
touching and sniffing
pulling and binding

Next thing you know I’ll be in a pretentious basket
on display at some forced farmers market stand
naked and twisted
next to the purple basil
flowers still intact
silently screaming

Oh, the life of an “exotic” plant
Will it be the blades of your dull knife
or the char of your fancy grill that spells my demise?
Or will I just be forgotten in the bottom of your crisper
Another victim of on-trend seasonal shopping

When will my 15 minutes be over?
Please, I implore you, just go back
to your avocado toast

Celestial sky still water
like deep crushed velvet
as above
so below
what am I but a firefly
enamored by your mysteries

Dear Thomas,

Your sage advice, your guidance and observations
Have been turned to memes
by the likes of those you surely rallied against
posted often and loudly proclaimed as beliefs of their own
but never really understood
No use to address them
akin to administering medicine to the dead

Such a Paine.

In fond remembrance,
Bia

City girl moves to the country
needing a different light
time to reflect and grow
sitting on the deck watching nature bloom
in this wild spring season

Nature seems happier
less noise less pollution
a majestic owl hoots in the palm tree
as a busy spider spins silken webs
capturing tasty flying treats

Robust red cardinal preens and prances atop weathered fence posts
Mockingbirds magpies and bluejays tease and taunt feisty little sparrows
while hawks and ospreys tangle in the bright blue skies above
swooping down occasionally to grab a bite
geckos and anoles scatter

Meanwhile chirping crickets cicadas and June bugs
add a bass rhythm to the melody of spring in heat

Ingredients:
1. Fear
2. Warm fuzzy blanket
3. Creepy music
4. Dark chocolate pretzels
5. Doorbell

Directions:
Select a horror movie that instills fear
gives you goosebumps
makes the hair on the back of your neck rise
contains all you fear

Curl up on a well worn couch
tuck into a warm fuzzy blanket
hide your toes
place dark chocolate pretzels within reach
press play

As the creepy music plays
and the fear rises
reach for the pretzels
one at a time
crunch chomp swallow

Ignore the unknown shadows in the room
just agents of fear escaping from the screen
hide under blanket as needed
nibble more pretzels
creepy music booms

Fear makes a reappearance
laughs rattle windows in time with music
nibble more pretzels
sink deeper into blanket
doorbell rings

The end is nigh

Dearest Poets,

Surreal times for our present poetic adventure. Standing in the backyard, my lungs ached as I swallowed gulps of Saharan desert air, lingering in the dusky gold Texas sky. “Stay Home,” read the public safety alert blaring from my cell phone. “COVID-19 threat is elevated to LEVEL 1(RED)…The virus is spreading rapidly across the county.”

Excellent time to stay in and write poetry! This will be my 5th poetic journey with the motley 24-hour Poetry Marathon crew. Oh how I have missed it! I skipped last year during my escape from California to Texas and it left a hole in my soul. Thankful to be back amidst the chaos of 2020. Looking forward to meeting all the brave and beautiful people joining in the madness this year. It’s always a wild ride. Feel free to reach out if you need someone to keep you going in the wee hours. 3:52 AM can be a dangerous time. It’s when the gold dust dreams whisper and cackle.

– Bia

Slowly moving moon
Velvet cloak encased waiting
Sunrising sublime

Oh to be a jellicle cat
Dance the jellicle dance
Live the jellicle life
Sing the jellicle song
Undoubtedly it’s marvelous and nice
Be reborn and rejoice in the glow of your jellicle self
Mr. Mistoffelees and I wish you well

RIP Spooky

Cold to the touch, yet flames were ever present
Deadly carmine graced her lips
Tight crushed garnet locks framed her powder painted face
Dark and distant eyes, captive, defiant, and  rimmed in red
As she looked away, always away.