The Poetry Marathon

fading night and waking day

overcast and heavy clouds

looking down on distant town

twinkling blue with dots of lights

shrill whistles, trills, songs

fall from birds’ beaks gone berserk

welcome day, welcome birds

and all good things that come here.

But, of course, you know I miss you

you can see me down below

in an instant I am weepy

just a moment left to go

before all who stand above me

and to all still in the show

come together in my presence

and create a lasting glow

then you’ll see me in the morrow

I will be right by your side

take my hand and lead me onward

never will our love subside

in the morning I am hopeful

that our time won’t be denied

because time is marching onward

and I just need you to guide

Madame X was all he could muster for the title

saying her name was too painful for him

He captured her breathless essence at her arrival

blushing, she turned away from his hot gaze

and his passionate brush.

There was never a better time to open her fan

but she was paralyzed with fear

Every pore of her refined body wanted this man

knowing if she moved he would see

and he would touch her.

Every stroke he made caressed lightly over her skin

she warmed to his movements

She lowered her arm and willed her strap to slide in sin

squirming just enough to soak through

and he would make love to the canvas

instead of her.

My bunions are gifts from my dad – they stay

there’s no magic pill that can whisk them away

but they make it hard to fit into shoes

that are pointy or narrow or give me the blues.

My flat feet are gifts from my children – all four

there’s no point in styling them down on the floor

they’ve grown three sizes since I was single

I guess it won’t hurt if I try on a shingle.

With trouble a’bending and puttin’ on airs

I best be barefootin’ than sitting on chairs.

A long time ago I sailed dark waters under the moon

A solo figure gliding gently on motionless water

My fingers tickled the surface, four tiny skiers in unison

My breasts pressed to the deck and the stretching daughter

reached to her inner depths

on a man-made lake

of four acres.

It will be 2045 before a solar eclipse comes to me

when I am eighty-four.

The closest place I can see it now

is Liberty, Missouri.

Five and a half hours straight north.

Missouri has just been put on high travel alert

by the NAACP and by the Missouri ACLU.

Tell me, if I follow the North Star to see the sun

will I be able to navigate back home to you?

I never liked the lions or the trainer cracking his whip

Maybe it was because they were too scary

I think it’s because I sensed the violence.

I never liked the elephants riding the ladies around in their feathers

Maybe it was because they were too big

I think it’s because I sensed their sadness.

I never liked the clowns with giant shoes and honking their horns

Maybe it’s because they were pitiful

I think it’s because they were really scary.

Oh, but the acrobats swinging high in the Big Top and taking baby steps

That’s where my eyes were

I think because they wanted to be there.

So I read a scholarly study about

married women who travel without their spouse.

It said that these women are prone to travel

to escape the sting of marital shrapnel

that marks the absolute rule of a tyrant

who belittles his wife then demands silence.

The author observed while the wife is away

she mimics the powerful husband at bay.

She orders the staff. She’s rude to the captain.

She makes a big mess and refuses action.

It’s quite a surprise to see that the victim

must vomit the poison out of her system

before she returns.

And I like it very much when things are quiet

when people are quiet mostly.

And I find it hard to stay in control of my thoughts

when my thoughts end up controlling me.

And I daresay it is very nice when friends call

when I am lonely because of the lonely part.

El Yunque peak in Puerto Rico is the mythological dwelling of Yúcahu