The Poetry Marathon

Such innocent white blossoms call to children

Staining fingers, cut, scratched, swollen

Black and Red and Blue

As they wrestle Mother Nature for pie filling

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Free Verse, Color Poem

How does one grieve for a living soul

Whose eyes are open

Soul closed

Ever shrinking from the light of knowing

In a cataract blurred reality of who of what of why

Capped Ice pursuing life pushing down life

Polar darkness pilfering all pulmonary exhalations

Can life survive down there?

In the cold, suffocating abyss that presses

O’ Cryogenic geriatric! Are you there?

Held suspended ever shriveling ever shivering never seeing

Through the swamp of failing fluids

Choking down memories like cough serum

Seeping bitter dregs strained past their taste

How can life survive being thusly alive?

Can I grieve at this while you remain un-here unheard?

I do not mean to demean such suffering.

This is my grief in stasis.

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Elegy

You are the sunrise

Radiant heat bringing warmth so bright

Never scorching the hide of young girls, who run barefooted on the earth

To rest upon antiquity while basking in the light

You are a cool, mysterious poneglyph

Holding the wisdom of the ages in secret

Protecting the riddles that drive children to search for independence

To explore things bigger than themselves, fearlessly, boldly, with abandon

You are a gentle summer rain

Precious drops in which to dance, to twirl, to leap alive

Filling full the aquifers of young minds that ponder love and loss

That they may bloom and stretch their roots for a firmer hold

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Lyric

She handed me the pattern

Walked away; left me there – alone for a while

She refused to answer my questions

Looking over my shoulder

Sighed, tisked and smiled

I figured it out.

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Free Verse; Recipe Poem

Your failing eyesight

Greying hair and sagging skin-

They are beautiful

Silver proof of caring arms

Holding us all together

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Tanka

Almost lost, that recipe all pressure cooked at Sunday noon

The burner cools for a while for everyone to savor some

Write it down; Do not hesitate – My family gathering

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Sijo

When last I visited before Oblivion,

I hoped you would see me –

For a moment while lucid

I am forgotten progeny.

I hung on the wall like my photograph.

I was within reach but could not help.

I was within reach but could not help.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

So, I touched my photograph,

But you said, “Oh, this is a photo of me.”

I am forgotten progeny.

You were sure you were lucid.

How I wanted you to be more lucid.

I was within reach but could not help.

I am forgotten progeny.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

You were staring down at a picture of me –

That tacky yearbook photograph.

Dated hair, dated clothes of the photograph –

How could you not be lucid?

Didn’t you know it was me?

I was within reach but could not help.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

I am forgotten progeny.

I am forgotten progeny.

You jabbed, “This is me” into the photograph.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

I was within reach but could not help.

My love was not enough to make you lucid.

You yelled how you were me!

What did you mean that you were me?

I am forgotten progeny.

I was within reach but could not help.

My name was embossed on the photograph,

Was scratched out while you were not lucid,

When last I visited before Oblivion.

I wanted to help; did you see me?

On the edge of Oblivion – your progeny –

I gave you the photograph to keep you lucid.

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Sestina

Rocking into the dimly fading light

Confusion swirling like falling powder

Soft etherial haze of coming night

The chiffon grey of each passing hour

Clouding the sedulous plans promise made

Before the fog endeavored to devour

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Terza Rima

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will lay you down

Beneath the old willow tree

But the autoharp you once used to play

Will be put away

Will be put away

Put away

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will tuck you in

For a long winter’s sleep

And the folk hemns you once used to sing to me

I will make them ring

I will make them ring

Make them ring

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will let you go

Before I must walk home alone

And the sad sound this shared lullaby

Will be my goodbye

Will by my goodbye

Goodbye

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Dirge

Passing into light

From darkened shadows of trees

Take your flight, sweet dove

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Haiku