The Poetry Marathon

My closet is a cleaner’s dream

a nightmare, truly

stuffed with sweaters, pants, skirts;

two full closets of dresses all

hung so tightly impossible to pull one out.

On the bottom are shoes- a hundred pairs I guess,

all shapes and colors for day and night,

in hot or cold weather. Handbags dangle

from broken rungs thrown willy-nilly

on side walls: big ones for computers, small ones

for carrying cash and a lipstick–colors that match

every outfit I own and others I don’t.

I dream of clothes of all colors, with blouses

and scarves to match. Even underwear must match,

it,  too gets thrown wherever it can fit.

Every year I organize,

everything has a place,

and in 2 months,

it’s a mess.

I can’t win these days,

I won’t even try.

Just close the door

and breathe. It’s not yours

it’s mine.

Some of us like to hide from others, the world or even oneself,

we can hide in books, or even with others, always being the

one who questions, not the one who answers.

Hiding is second nature for some

beginning in childhood with games of hide and seek.

Where to go? in a low cabinet, under the piano,

or in a closet out of sight.

Why are we hiding? Difficult to say.

Like the proverbial Frost poem

depends upon who you’re fencing in

or who you’re keeping out!

We all have secrets, that’s not news

So why all the fuss? To each his own,

to keep oneself free from scorn

is enough for me.

But the best place–the very best place

is there for all to see but not understand.

The trees have dreams

the earth drowns in memories

while blossoms never learn

the secrets of earth.

Sun emboldens the crops

to fight for survival

despite lack of rain and fertilizer.

A new moon brings joy

a brightness shining

night and day– a cycle,

a dream, a rapture.

Plants grow with patience and blessings

bringing forth new life stacked on the old.

God paints the world in technicolor

magical and sensual to see.

But when man comes in,

shrapnel and mines lay deep in the earth

hidden for eons, buried heap upon heap–

with broken dreams of sharing this earth.

Dread and disaster, fear and helplessness

corrode our foundations

leaving body and soul

adrift for all time.

Acceptance of the “other”

(unlike orphans in an empty schoolyard)

will bring peace and tranquility,

keeping us from isolation.

Hidden in our prayers flows love,

hopes forever bound in life itself.

Butterflies soar to heights we can dream of

spreading their wings in flights of fancy

coloring their surroundings in rainbows

of blues, greens, yellows, oranges and black.

But when it’s burn-your-feet-through-the-sandals hot

where the pavement dares you to fry an egg–

a heat so intense you feel your aorta pumping

oxygenated blood through your veins, what happens

to the butterflies? Can they chance a landing on your arm?

Rivers of steamy sweat pour down your head

streaking what’s left of your carefully made up face,

mascara drips down your eyes blackening them

making you look like the tiger-striped butterfly in flight.

The heat rains down upon your hair, making it dank,

strand sticks to strand, your neck wet from it all.

If this is climate change, we are damned.

I won’t survive global warming: the arctic melts,

ocean waters rise, glaciers calve at speeds unknown;

polar bears drown on ice floes unconnected to land,

penguins are forced to abandon families–no place

to rest or return with food.

How much longer will our earth survive when so many

deny climate change? Do we need more frequent floods,

hurricanes, cyclones, earthquakes tornadoes to prove it?

I fear the mounting conflagration will destroy all

and man is to blame.

should be calming

reflective

restorative

soul enriching

body nourishing

peaceful

BUT we have cardio at 8

breakfast buffet

adobe photoshop class

team trivia

line dancing

scattergories

napkin folding

and table tennis.

All take place in bars where ever smiling crew will solicit drinks:

Then:  ballroom dance

or amber seminar

or shopping advice for Curacao

sushi demo

ice sculpting

facial & massage

bingo

art auction and

afternoon tea.

I’ll pull myself away to rest in my cabin before formal night and Captain’s party,

set my clock to have time to shower and put on gown for pictures:

Then off to:

steak and lobster

baked Alaska-flaming in the dark

a procession of waiters on parade

a few more drinks

and I am full and fat.

PLEASE ROLL ME OFF NOW!

Striped like the suit of a clown

in reds and whites

or a drunk flag

pasted on doors of every town;

smoky mirrors of rusting gold,

clipping shears set out for work

waiting for the town gossip

to take his turn.

Men and boys perch

on slatted redwood benches

for their five minutes undivided

of old Ernie’s chatter,

soused by now.

Each waits in turn

listening to woes of life

to be solved by all.

Now we go to shrinks

and pay $200 an hour,

yes, the barber is cheaper

but is he better by far?

A time for living

cannot be every day

if you live it up

all night.

You need to see

a time for living

is as much to behold

when studying.

Save time for prayer

It helps the soul

A time for living

includes it all.

A walk in the forest

following trails of trees

will continue to be

a time for living.

Do we write the poems online? where? how? I am still unsure how this works. Can someone explain it to me?

I find myself getting both excited and nervous for the half marathon. It just hit me as an activity that is designed for me as I like deadlines! But I am nervous about writing crap, which I never want to do intentionally, but nevertheless comes out that way. So any advice is appreciated before the big day!

My name is Mikki Mendelsohn and I have been writing poetry for some years but only recently sending it out with some successes. I have about12-14 poems published and a book on Amazon called “Chasing Moonbeams” I am ready with another book, but my memoir is being edited- it is called “Rabbi, Your Cleavage is Showing” and represents the slice of life when I decided to become one of the first female rabbis. I am a Rabbi as well as an attorney. I sing and have studied voice for years and I am currently teaching in a private school- English, creative writing, history, economics, government and Latin and Hebrew!  I think that the half marathon will get my juices flowing and be a lot of fun, too and I am looking forward to participating.