The Poetry Marathon

Walnuts

We used to crack walnuts at Christmas
and sometimes other nuts as well

I remember the nut-filled turquoise bowl
splatter-painted with the divided sections
Whatever happened to it?

The metal nutcrackers were so hard to use
the nuts slipping from the grasp of pudgy hands

But the adults would help you if you asked
aunts and uncles, parents and grandparents

In those days we would all get together
and talk while we cracked walnuts at Christmas

But the metal nutcrackers were so hard to use
and supermarkets sell them unshelled for you now
Isn’t it just easier that way?

We don’t even eat nuts at Christmas anymore
I guess those old days are gone

Princess Dreaming

Sleeping Beauty arises from her sleep
To find that Cinderella has taken over the kitchen

She has mixed the lentils with the peas
She has put the ladles in with the spoons
She has let in the birds and small creatures

Finding the kingdom in disarray
Sleeping Beauty goes back to bed

She dreams a prince, a prince who is dreamy
A dreamy prince who dreams only of her

But the dream turns to nightmare and she wakes
Sleeping Beauty arises from her sleep

Finding the kingdom in disarray
Sleeping Beauty joins in the fun
Pouring soap in the cereal and cinnamon in the salad

Sleeping Beauty arises from her sleep
To find it has all been a dream anyway

Friendship Lost

I dreamed that I was at your home
Some time with you to share
But though through each room I did roam
I did not see you there

In distant rooms I heard your voice
And so I aimed to trace you
But, ah! I could not then rejoice
I could not seem to place you

Our friendship gone, much like this dream,
Only lingering in my mind
A vagrant thought, so it would seem
So much to have been left behind

Artists Salvaging Civilization

What are you knitting?
I’m knitting a nail to hold up the sky.

What are you drawing?
I’m drawing a wine glass to capture the sea.

What are you singing?
I’m singing a tune of pavements and curbs.

What are you cooking?
I’m cooking the remnants of social construct.

What are you weaving?
I’m weaving a satchel to collect up the ashes.

What are you writing?
I’m writing it down, so we can remember.

The Crystal Set

“You want a try?”
my brother says
lifting the headphones from his own ears
and placing them on mine

At first, I hear nothing
but my brother scratches the wire
across the crystal
and the sound of stringed instruments
fills my head
Astonishing!

Then, a voice
almost lost amid the static at first
then louder
and clearer

I am too stunned to pay attention to the words
the sound of a man’s voice
a man not in this room
nor even in this house
but as clear as if it was!

Two miracles:
first, that it could be done
and second, that my brother
just six years old
could have brought this miracle to me.

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note – A crystal set was an early radio, usually homemade, that was popular in the 1920s. In 1922, President Harding brought the first radio into the White House, and many US radio stations went on the air for the first time. The BBC was founded in 1922 as well.

(note: This poem arose tangent to the picture prompt, which put me in mind of the Eugene Field poem, which you can read here: https://poets.org/poem/sugar-plum-tree)

The Lollypop Sea
– A golden shovel after the poem The Sugar-Plum Tree by Eugene Field

When we started, it seemed simple, or at least it
seemed doable – to sail to where the Sugar-Plum Tree blooms
in our wooden shoe boat. Ah, how foolish we were! To risk our lives on
the Lollypop Sea, a place notorious for storms of sticks the
size of alligators, a sea not of salt but of sticky syrup. Off from shore
we set sail on waters of various primary colors, not thinking of
the dangers of hyperglycemia, nor of the instability of our bulky craft, the
glory of those sweet treats looming large in our eyes, all lollypop
and caramel and taffy. No thought to this endless sticky sea –

which I fear now we shall never escape, our little boat in
ruins, our spirits all but lost. The horizon offers little hope in the
endless sameness of its swells. Gone are the thoughts of the garden
in which that magical tree grows, of aprons full of treats, of
bringing such riches back to our loved ones. Farewell, Village of Shut-Eye!
I must, somehow, get this crew safely back to our home town

to watch his woods fill up with snow
– a golden shovel based on Robert Frost’s Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

sometimes your work, your job, the place you are going to
is not more important than the time it takes to watch
the change of season, the falling flakes. Father Time – his
relentless pursuit of us over fields, lake, hill, and woods
can be reversed, stopped dead, when we take time to fill
our senses, our brains, our souls, fill ourselves up
with bird song, rosebuds, starlight. go. fill yourself up with
snow

Embracing the Storm

In the distance, thunder
rolls low and deep
the warning sound of a lion

Above the hills, lightning
flashes like a caution signal
an emergency vehicle’s garish beams

Let the rain come!
Let the water pour down
Let the storm envelope us

Let the wind carry away the debris
Let the pounding droplets settle the dust
Let the rushing water cleanse the earth

Let everything be refreshed
Let us have a new start

Gift

She had a gift for music
She could sing a song with flair
She had a gift for music and
She sang ‘most everywhere

When she shared her music
When she sang a simple air
She gave us the gift of music
It was a gift that she could share

Music makes folks happy
So they share a smile or two
A gift that keeps on giving
It’s gift that grew and grew

Interview with a Legend

My feet aren’t really that big
I mean, I’m a big guy, sure,
But my feet are in proportion to my size
If you wanna talk big feet, you should see Nessy
Just sayin’

And I’m not “shy” or “elusive”
I’m just an introvert, okay?
Why do you think I live way out here in the woods?
I need my space, that’s all

Yeah, it’s kinda lonely being me
The last of my kind and all that
Well, you’ll understand once your habitat gets destroyed

Well, gotta lumber
It was nice meeting you, Elvis