The Poetry Marathon

TECHNOLOGY

I awaken

My clock radio singing

About bringing booty back

Meghan Trainor

is all about the bass

The ear-worm is planted

I check Facebook

A long conversation

Politics as usual

My nephew is losing it again

Updates from everyone

Right on my phone.

The cat wants in,

he and I have a conversation

I open his cat-food with no can opener

An amazing feat

I microwave myself coffee

yes I am too lazy to brew

I sit down to write

My computer is dead

I pull out the plug

Pull off the back

Pull out the battery

Replace it

Screw it back together

Turn it on, it comes on

A moment later it goes blank

Flipping technology

The smell of cane burning wafts through the air

Old technology

The computer comes up

I start my poem

Meghan Trainor still singing in my ear

She’s bringing booty back

I think about how technology

Got me here

From sleep to poem in fifteen minutes.

PARADISE

I am living the dream

I climbed aboard a 737

Bound for the ocean

Sand and surf

Blazing new trails

In paradise

I got a job

A place to live

Bought a car

Started a bank account

I walked the perfect beaches

Watched the artistic sunsets

Oohed and awed the rainbows

I found Mister Right and married him

I was swept up by warm starry nights

And long languishing days

I had money shock at Safeway

And road rage in Walmart

But with all the changes

And all newness

And all the endless routine

My life comes down to

Only one thing

One constant

One inescapable reality

My life comes down

To gecko Poop.

BEFORE DARKNESS

Before darkness

There were lilting swings

That reached to the sky

I could kick a cloud with my Keds

And watch it bounce across the sky

There were tiny frogs in

Fountain pools

Jumping into my lap

To disappear into tall grass

Before darkness

Bicycles soared

Kites pedaled into the sky

Light was taken for granted

The monsters under the bed

Disappeared with a small lamp

Before darkness

Anything was possible

Now

Monsters lie in wait

They wear business suits

And drive a Mercedes

Darkness pivots and waves

Always following close at hand

Light still shines

In crevasses and tiny cracks

But darkness rules the day.

   MOONLESS SKY

Fairy dance

A vacuous void above me

Around me

Twirling me into space

I am unleashed

by their brilliance

By their melodious whispers

They feel close enough to touch

They dance at my fingers

Incandescent fairy-light

A transfusion

A glittering glow

A gracious gift

I spin and sputter

A mere mortal

Tasting the heavens

ENDINGS

Always taking a swipe at me

Aiming for my complacency

For my compliance and my character

Sometimes those endings are minor, simple

A transition from one place to the next

A flow so simple, you barely feel the wave

Your feet gently tickled

As you a take your step.

Sometimes the earth is shattered

All you knew or thought you believed

Is dismantled

Destroyed

Obliterated

Naked and wounded

You are left with the aftermath

A puzzle

An accountability

An inevitably

Historically, hauntingly

Your ending transforms

Transmutes

A beginning

The pieces come together

The ruins are swept away

Your challenge apparent

To begin anew.

Your ending was just a beginning

A long day’s journey

A long day’s night

My pillow awaits

Fluffed just right

A dream or two

Is calling my name

I imagine my writing

Won’t be the same

My head to mattress

My light snaps to dark

I am over this day

To dreams I embark

Goodnight you fair poets

You geniuses too

The ride has been gnarly

The poems have been too

Good night sweetest evening

I really had a ball

But someone will die

If my phone rings a call.

“Do you feel confused, uprooted, at a loss-almost depressed but not quite?”

Sure always

Doesn’t everybody?

We play this game called life

You know-

Job, family, home

Creative frustration

Walking a fine line between

healthy and dead.

It’s a bad juggling act at an empty circus

Confused? Sure. No one told me

Most of what I should know

I found out the hard way

Once I figured it out

I find out I’m wrong

Been uprooted like trees after a tornado

Happened so many times

I can stand upside down

Lost? Never been found

And depression?

We dated for years

Depression is that bad relationship

That won’t give me back my key

Yes- life- good times there

Headaches, bosses

Dishes and unmatched silverware

Frolicking in laundry and car repair

Lucky I made it this far

Haven’t slit my wrists

or driven off a cliff

The body holds and the laundry piles up

Money problems and bouncing cell phones

Take your pills and water the plants

Feed the cat and mash the potatoes.

It’s all there.

Like a found wallet

You gotta look inside.

You hope for riches

You end up with dimes.

(First line taken from Finding your Way Home by Melody Beattie)

Ok, I missed a few

I didn’t do the fish

Fish isn’t for me

My favorite author bailed

And honestly that one possession

Turned into three

The sestina almost killed me

I gave up poetry then and there

I didn’t do the food

Diet food isn’t romantic

That creature with the cold nose

His goodbye makes me sad

Persona got ditched

Genre did too

Underwater well, that’s for fish

Fish really isn’t for me

I didn’t do visual specifically

Hope a few visuals found their way through

And the timer, wrote about the timer

forgot to set the time

All in all a good days work

And my relationship is still in tact

But slightly worn out.

Doubt swings his ax in midair

I duck just in time

Swings again and I feel my head

Roll across the room

I chase it down and hold it tight

I run

But Doubt is close behind

Laughing maniacally

“You will never do this”

He says

” Who do you think you are?”

I want to doubt him but he is Doubt

It’s hard to do

He is strong

He makes the rules

I try to break them

But I fail miserably

I am Doubt’s greatest student

I learned well and he knows my soft spots

I churn out waves of affirmations

But he cackles back

“You will fail!”

I choose not to believe him

And I run harder and faster

I trip over an insult

My head falls from my arms

Rolling faster and faster

He stops, picks it up and hands it to me

“You can have your head

But know I am inside

Always inside”

He walks away

I know he is right

I put my head back on, lower it in shame

Taking my seat with the rest of the class.

Oh how I love thee

Let me count the ways

Well there’s that sense of humor

The way you yell at your computer

I could list your stylish good looks

Or your beautiful blue eyes

Traditionally I would swoon

Tell you how virile you are

how ruggedly handsome you are

But you know that already

I could list your admirable qualities

How you would sacrifice your life for your cat

And a friend too I suppose

You would go to the ends of the earth for cheesecake

But then so would I

I could share how cuddly you are

How domestic you aren’t

How brilliant your poetry and

political interpretations are

Yes my love, I can count the ways

The poem would be endless

The hour grows late

So in an untraditional

Traditional way

I guess I just have to say

I love you and let it go at that.