The Poetry Marathon

The breastbone, a canopy for the heart and lungs
Breathe deeply, a full moon of oxygen into the soul
Close the eyes to look deep into the lake of the mind
Breathe out until there is nothing left to spare
Do not panic: revel in the glory that the next breath will follow

[Prompt: Use five of these words: Moon, Lake, Glory, Jeep, Breastbone, Spare, Canopy, Panic]

Anyone can enter a public library
there’s no fee, no ID required
There are places to sit
and clean restrooms

The stacks are mostly
quiet, especially fiction
W – Z is good for napping
until a page shows up

Even the employees
seem to understand
leave me nodding off
stack the books to shelve later

It’s warm in the winter
cool in the summer
safe and quiet
with running water

I can remember a time
when I used to read
as a child, books about
a snowy day, a tree that gave

so much of itself until
it was nothing but a stump
but still it had so much to give
a place to rest without judgement

[Prompt: Write from the persona of a homeless person]

Today it rained
and then the sun burst through
and more rain, and more sun
tomatoes on the vine burst into crimson
I pull one from its stem
still wet, still warm
sink my teeth into its paper thin flesh
juice runs down my chin
I suck the seeds
mash the pulp with my tongue and teeth
how can you possibly describe
how delicious the earth tastes
fresh from the garden
I can only say, Mmmmmmm
So good. Thank you for tomatoes.

we each slice out
a corner plot of this planet
to call our own, to own
the air we breathe, try to
create space where we feel
safe, nurtured, secure
some among us will venture
further and further with each breath
see the expanse that makes us
feel so small, our every effort at air
so miniscule, yet so wanting
breathing is both voluntary and involuntary
a voluntary action anticipates
goal-orientated movement
we anticipate life with every breath
our goal to fill this space within us
to fill this space outside of us
to become the air we breath

[Prompt: Photos]

The struggle every day is to believe
Inherent good can exist in all people
We witness lives torn apart too young
By those who profess to love and care

Inherent good can exist in all people
I learned this as a child
By those who profess to love and care
Seeds planted and nurtured can grow

I learned this as a child
The struggle every day is to believe
Seeds planted and nurtured can grow
We witness lives torn apart too young

[Prompt: Pantoum. I used Jacob’s pantoum generator.]

I know you don’t like him
think he’s no good for me
and I can do better
but I just can’t help myself
each time I get near him
there’s something about him
that just draws me in
I get so wrapped up in
everything about him
the way he walks, talks, smells
the funny little looks he
throws my way
and when we’re alone together
the way he knows how to push
every last one of my little buttons
I get to the point where I just
scream out loud
I can’t help myself
And when he’s done with me
oh, such feelings of sweet relief
Sometimes I feel silly
knowing how I act when he’s around
knowing how I could do so much better
but then lower myself to his
tricks and traps
Each time I promise myself
I won’t go to him
that I can be stronger without him
be a better person to steer clear
In the end
I can’t imagine my life without him
Still, if anyone asks
I deny we’re seeing each other
spending any time together
I know he sees other people
it doesn’t bother me
because I know he’ll always come back to me
And I’ll always take him in.

[Prompt: Angst – without being cliche using love or death. Well, lots of cliche, but not in a typical way when writing about angst.]

Every morning I walk along the river. To get there, first I must walk through the city, past houses of people still sleeping, sometimes encountering a raccoon or skunk, finishing its night of roaming and looking for home. I must pass through the bar district, sidewalks littered with cigarette butts, broken glass, crushed cigarette packs and empty chew tins. The stench of stale beer, smoked butts, and acrid vomit wafts briefly through my senses, my pace quickening to get by, to reach the water. There the life is so different, open, unencumbered by hard-cornered brick. Instead, the softness of marsh and brush, leaves and grass. My walk becomes mediation on vibrant sunrise, lush green, the steady thrum of birdsong.

beside the river
I enter a life, every day
I leave behind

[Prompt: Haibun]

Uncle Eddie lost three fingers
when the combine ate his hand
and Junior lost his life
when the tractor rolled into the ditch

There was reason for families
to have so many children
to do all the work, and because
God would always claim some back

Jealous, Grandma would say,
of all the love they had here
and wishing he had never
given them away

Every day she’d wake them
feed them, send them out to chores
never once saying, Be careful
because she never wanted

their last thought to be
that it could have been their fault
but instead, that God had come
to take them home with him.

[Prompt: Technology]

Avery let loose a little scream
it was more surprise than pain
though the hammer hurt when
it came crashing down upon his thumb.
He dropped the tool and ran inside
where he found himself alone.
His whimpers echoed in the empty kitchen.
As per usual, Mother was ‘out’ with friends
and father, not a word in his vocabulary
since the day he was born.
He stuck his thumb inside his mouth
and soothed himself, silencing all the hurt.

Come here beside me
sit skin close
hum of cicadas
vibrate between us
dusk dampness
rises from the earth
lean to me
only our weight
to hold us upright
bury our toes in the sand
only these tiny grains
to keep us warm