The Poetry Marathon

Book to Poem

Four city slickers canoe

The Cahulawassee River

In the northwest Georgia wilderness.

An encounter with mountain men

Leads to sodomy and murder, what then?

Four city slickers canoe

The Cahulawassee River

In the northwest Georgia wilderness.

The four city slickers flee

But only find more misery.

Four city slickers canoe

The Cahulawassee River

In the northwest Georgia wilderness.

A city slicker drowns due to panic disorder,

Then another mountain man murdered.

Four city slickers canoe

The Cahulawassee River

In the northwest Georgia wilderness.

A cover-up the city slicker share

Only leads to severe nightmares.

Four city slickers canoe

The Cahulawassee River

In the northwest Georgia wilderness.

Will the truth ever surface?

Not if the bodies don’t resurface.

Teaching After the Pandemic: The New Normal

Day One of the 21-22 School Year

In a Hybrid Model Classroom

Where Virtual and In-Person students are taught as one.

I address the Virtual students,

Also known as The Zoomers.

Everyone gazes at a screen

While I attempt to engage, but

Nothing but black boxes stare at me.

Silence.

I type a question in chat.

No one responds.

I turn to the In-Person students.

“Class, today we will…

Thomas, stay in your square.

Now class…

Jan, stop twirling you’re your mask and put it back on.

Okay class…

Alice and Kate, you can’t sit next to one another and, no, you cannot share crayons.

Class…

Johnny, you cannot use the restroom until your assigned time.

Class…

BRRRING!

Um, class dismissed.”

A Haiku

It’s On the Tip of My Tongue

What’s that word again?

You know, it means to saunter,

amble, stroll, hike, trek.

Poetry Marathon 3021

June 26, 2021.

You think this time capsule is big enough?

Nothing is big enough, so it will have to do.

You think this will all fit?

We’ll make it fit, now help me cram all of it in.

25 pounds of coffee.

Check.

50 cases of MREs.

Check.

24 gallons of water.

Check.

Two cases of tequila.

Check.

One book: How to Conquer the Poetry Marathon: A Book on Poetic Form.

Check.

42 notebooks.

Check.

1000 sharpened pencils.

Check.

One box of smelling tablets.

Check.

One bag of 24 earplugs.

Check.

One “Do Not Disturb” sign.

Check.

One Lazy Boy recliner.

Check.

One bag of Doritos.

Check.

It’s all here.

Close it up,

Seal it up,

And inform the crane operator it’s ready to be lowered into place.

Our work is done.

May God have mercy on their souls.

A Sedoka

Uncharted

An ancient Codex

Lost deep in uncharted lands

holding the fate of the world.

My favorite books

Contain mysterious worlds.

Indiana Jones I’m not.

A Triolet

Bringing Out My Best

Ideas flow when doing mundane tasks
Mowing the grass brings out my best
Poems unfold and plots unmask
Ideas flow when doing mundane tasks
Needing a pen, I reach for my flask
I should be writing but flop down to rest
Ideas flow when doing mundane tasks
Mowing the grass brings out my best

Walking My Human – Part 2

Guys, grab the leash

and slap it around your human.

Get outside now!

There’s a plethora of tasty treats

Just outside your front door!

They are called ci-ca-das.

They are crunchy on the outside,

Soft and chewy on the inside.

These cicadas are everywhere!

You know, this is the golden time of the year:

Not only are you walking while having a buffet,

But you’ll also drive your human insane with all the extra stops.

Paw and sniff to your heart’s content!

With each step,

These cicadas are everywhere.

Cripe, I almost drove my human to blow a gasket.

A cicada took flight and I

Launched myself

After it.

I caught air,

And the leash snapped tight toppling the recycling bin.

Omg! It was a thing of beauty!

Bottles, cans, and containers everywhere you looked.

One bottle rolled clear into the neighbor’s yard

All the way at the bottom of the cul-de-sac.

It was beautiful.

Don’t wait! Get your human off the couch now.

I hear the cicadas are here for a limited time

So, get outside and get your fill!

You know I am.

So, look for me the next time

When you are out

Walking your human!

The Poetry Marathon 2021

June 26, 2021

Finally

All I do is drive

Searching for diamonds

Filled with dreams

Of my youth

Wishing that my son

Gets the same experience

As I did so long ago.

The pop of the glove,

The crack of the bat,

The spitting of sunflower seeds

Fill the air.

Baseball: Where diamonds are gold

And dreams of glory resonate.

Jack has played rec ball for four years

And suddenly announced,

“I want to play travel ball.”

So, I search the net,

Mark the tryout dates on the calendar,

Fuel up the car,

And soon I drive…

To Warrenton,

To Mount Vernon,

To Gainesville,

Back to Mount Vernon,

Back to Warrenton,

Anywhere that a team has a 13U tryout.

He just wants a chance to play.

Jack is a 12-year-old

Trapped in a D1 body.

He is six-feet tall

Weighing 197 pounds…

And he is still growing.

He has the power,

But he needs fine tuning.

He just needs to learn to let go

And use all of his physical gifts.

I just hope one coach sees

His raw potential and thinks,

“I can take him to the next level.”

However, most just want the best player

Who gets them closer to the league championship.

With each rejection,

Jack states,

“I want to pay against that team.”

This attitude will keep him motivated

Not only in sports but in life.

At each tryout,

I sit in the car with

Neal Schusterman, James Dickey, and

Dan Carlin who entertains me with stories.

Every now and again,

I get out and watch.

I still love the sounds of the game.

When this last tryout ends,

Jack gets in the car,

“Dad, Coach said he wants to talk to you,

So don’t leave.”

I get out and I wait

While trying not to get my hopes up.

I step away from the car.

Jack doesn’t need to hear any more bad news.

Coach and I make some small talk until he states,

“We want him. We have a spot on our B team.”

I smile, shake the coach’s hand,

And return to the car.

“They want you. You made the team.”

He exhales and his stress melts away.

His smile is the size of a slice of watermelon,

And he says,

“Finally, somebody gave me a chance.”

Yes,

Finally.

My lunchbox

Waits patiently for me.

Bent and square,

Sometimes forgotten

On the counter

Or in the car.

It cradles

My peanut butter sandwiches

And granola bar,

Longing for

My embrace.

There is a place where tennis balls die

And before slobbering pups are born,

And there, their fuzz grows worn and frayed,

And there, their covers are torn away,

And there, their dogs are told to play

In the tall green grass of the park.

Let us leave this place where canine cages cramp

And the dark dogs are chained and muzzled.

Past the Petco holding an obedience class

We shall walk with a walk that is harried and fast,

And watch when the cars with dogs drive past

To the place where tennis balls die.

Yes, we shall walk with a walk that is harried and fast,

And watch when the cars with dogs drive past,

For the dogs, they mark, and their masters, they know

The place where tennis balls die.