The Poetry Marathon

the still point
of the turning gyre
that’s where i am
when around me
chaos reigns

the still point of the
churning ocean
that’s where i am
when creation nudges

the still point
of the mists of time
that’s where hope blossoms
that’s where i am

i breathe and dive
into my body
my feet are flippers
as i plumb the depths
with ease
where am i headed?
ah, there it is, the sacral
region, and at once,
i see the cords, black
and stretching
as infinity

i tug
but nothing gives
just then a whisper
from the heart, “try
me, try me.”

i float to where the heart is
smiling at her eagerness to help
she shows me her little light and
tells me what to do

soon i have a highway
of light particles
heading towards
those massive cords

the light sent from her, my
heart works her magic
one cord at a time, releasing,
suturing, healing, cleansing
protecting, rejuvenating

the sacral cells stretch
vibrating at a higher frequency now
grateful for the freedom to create

i circle around inside
one last time
all is well
i breathe
and ground myself

what has made the pizza
a global favorite?

surely not the taste
i mean, there are sandwiches
the grilled kind, you know
but why is a pizza so different

i think it is in the name
a flat pie, pee-t-zaa
that’s what it means

so enjoy your pizza, folks
while i go chomp on mine

running, that’s how they
name the hot
loo breeze
as it sweeps
over
the land
the desert sand
shimmers
like the
skin of one
running

let’s pretend, shall we?
while we swing on the tire
we’re preparing for life
what should we begin with?
ah, life begets life, they say,
so, take one life form
meld it with another life form
(that’s hard)
because there’s the right
moment to contend with
the right temperature
the right subsoil for jumpstarting
new life
(did i mention right emotion as well?)
there, you have it now
try it and tell me
what you think in the comments
though there may be step by step videos
out there
i’ll stop here

the pain
oozes out when i stretch
my left arm
(left is dominant for me)
i freeze
squeezing the breath
in mythe lungs
then slowly release
willing the arm to relax
my pain is like a crying child
who will not calmsettle down
my body is the vessel
i receive pain
i feel pain
i release pain

open shop
wait for client
ping!
a message
they’re running late
smile
smile
they’ll be billed anyway
healers are a precious commodity

they have curves
length
height, just the right height
shaped aerodynamically
ridged undersurface
to grip better

i slip them on
no thought about the science behind their being
my slippers

a cow in a meadow
walking home to be milked

a lone tree on a hill
braving the odds

an upturned slipper in a child’s room
waiting to be
put in its place

a taste, a touch, a melody
desire bursting like a dam

and then stillness

Point B and Point A
facing opposite poles
on the same mattressed board
strings attached
silent words
convoluted phrases
that meander into the sea
of nothingness
“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”
“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master — that’s all.”

Boint Pee and Boint Pay
facing opposite poles
on the same mattressed board
fingers entwined
silent limbs
doing their thing
all is vanity
vanity of vanities
all is vanity