The Poetry Marathon

He is her safe harbour in every storm

She eats all the chocolate

He keeps house while she dreams

of creating beauty

An echo of the life she lives

still in the honeymoon 

when she wakes beside him

looks at his sleeping face

and remembers the moment 

she fell in love with him

1) Will the weeds rise up

to glorious applause from the garden

when we are all dead?

My mother wants to know

from her comfy chair

by the window.

2)I swallowed the southern cross

It was above the City Library

3)His beard is smoother than it looks

His perfume settles on the air

He is my poem in the making

4)Your words taste like mouth music

5)Even though it’s long gone

I still see Susan in Patagonia

dancing the tango 

in a small bar, loud music

macho gaucho flirting

6)I can’t reach the stars

they look so close

7)She liked the feel of soil

damp, dark in between her fingers

8)’You bletherscyte’ he called

the chattering chipmunk

smiling at his granddaughter

9)You ate a second dinner 

after I cooked pancakes

I had to write a poem

10)It’s about status

lowering status to make them think

he’s so dumb

he’s the kind of dumb who loses his tools

he must be too dumb

to kill his wife and kids

let’s go chaps, nothing to see here

11)The happy boy of all time

played endlessly with sticks

from a bridge 

over a river

12)The hand cream burns blisters

onto skin already raw

Blood mixes

slippery chemistry

13)Miss Lizzy Blue 

has begun to talk to me

in broken english

Her barks have evolved

into metaphor 

Her whimpers 

an invitation for kisses

A new personality

14) She was called Cow pat

so she changed her name

She was called Little Yeti

so she changed her name

She was called Nellie

Confused as to her whereabouts 

she changed it again

for definition 

for identity

15)I will wish there is a way of cheating 

at Mahjong at the age of 93

16)Sweet shit

that it may cover her skin

to hide all her blemishes 

17)He will smash all unconvincing lies

He will remember the wars he has seen

He will play pingpong in the retired services bar

18)Todora’s Dream

Тази песен изпълва душата ми*

I weep each time I hear it

I am home with each note

(*This song fills my soul – Bulgarian)

19) I said out loud I need a new phone

It is now singing to me, unprompted

songs I have never downloaded

in an effort

to keep my attention

20) My mother’s garden 

fights her for dominance

(Being 44)

I don’t know 

Neither do you nor the dog

Perhaps the dog knows

You work away

I spend my days 

torturing myself

Lost in the lack of you

Lack of me

Something is amiss

I feel guilty

You have acquired

another lost soul

Tears stain our time

I’m raging inside

a slow deep burn

Detached from reality

 I cannot see a future

I live in fear of loss

I want to smoke again

I need a prop

To ground me

I have failed

My mouth won’t open

I can’t see behind your eyes

PROMPT #1 – Hour 1

One way in, one way out

The cries of my family echo through dread forests

filled with rough graves

If I step on the road I will have to walk in

One way in, one way out

To leave is unlikely, many never

for those who are in, barricaded and staunch

listening to mortar pound their apartments

reducing to rubble cities of the ancients

In an effort to commit genocide

In an effort to wipe out all culture, all language, all men

Tanks rumble on the road of my family

I am stuck, gatekeeper of souls

As they try to leave I arrest them

weigh them against a single feather

and watch them fail.

so excited to partake in this marathon. I love it every year

OMG – i cannot wait – i  have not produced as many poems as i wanted this year and this will be a brilliant opportunity to get some first drafts out.

When we were poor

you gave me a piece of paper

when banks still issued them

and used what little savings you had

to give me the only thing I was lacking

For you had already given me everything else

That I had ever wanted.

I didn’t need that

piece of paper

to feel your love

But accept this one

To feel mine

Squizzle finkle pop sqirzle

Squish squad

Straining to shuffle into view

With one eye it peeks

From beneath a sheet of gold

So fine

It could have been spun

by intergalactic gold worms

With no fear it appeared

on the way to school

It took an extra thick lens and

a super small girl to notice the reflection

Suizzle squire finkle fankle bong

Spurrt splat

The gold had sparked interest

And together they sat

beneath the veil

Hidden from white socks

and little feet

unobserved

They spoke of Pythagoras

and how bats like to drink mountain dew

at weekends

just like they do.

Brats don’t give a fuck

Construction was never in my world,

Too cold to miss the game

Noo excuses might see the lovely Suzie

Lucky Suz I call her

A dead cat stretches out perhaps it’s sleeping

Cut this wind to the back of me

Billy should have the hot counter on the go –

A pie on the fly will do me

No point in thinking of home time,

It’ll come soon enough

I’ve learned not to long for things

Not out loud anyway

In case it makes the pixies

Remember what a sense of humour is

And execute some swift response at my expense.

I’ll keep shtum, lips pressed together

Heart beating lightly and perhaps

I’ll permit me an inkling of

Something in my mind’s eye.

It feels fake to be needy when

I have more than many.

But when I’m sure the pixies are sleeping

Or elsewhere making their special brand of mischief

I might open a magazine or click on a link

I might just allow myself to think

Oh about what?

Shhhhh!