The Poetry Marathon

Water to bless from child to elder,
Wooden pews,
Kneelers padded,
Beeswax candle’s soft glow.

A place of quiet in a world of noise,
To think, push worries forward to the I Am.
Comfort in familiar, to touch, to taste Infinity.

He had been sick for awhile,
I followed his nurse inside,
trepidation welling up.

A farmer, work showing in his calloused hands,
In the middle of the room,
A pristine hospital bed, in a small house.

His wife was there, reporting fading life.
The nurse encouraged her,
Tell him to go, that it is ok, he waits for you.

She whispers this to him,
And slowly, a tear comes down his face,
The last of his life sliding away, and it’s ok.

Clouds of smog cover the city,
Winter in Beijing.
Stern looks as the visa is stamped.

The driver points to KFC, all that’s wrong with the world, we smile and zip those lips.

Tiananmen square, I know what happened here,
Again with the lips zipping,
People ask to take my picture,
I’m 5’10, is that why?

Acrobats, Beijing opera,
Almost an international incident as I refuse the fork,
chasing fish balls around the table.

Why didn’t I buy the jade lion??
Regret to this day.
Peking duck shoots juice all over my face,
Legendary meal.

North Face coats 90% cheaper,
Lost at the second embassy, why two?
Summer Palace, heritage being reclaimed.
The Great Wall, is still in place.

Walking the streets of Rome alone,
Solitude can be nice,
the smells, sights, in clearer focus.

A small cart with Nirvana,
Fresh, flat bread steaming,
A little sauce, a little cheese,
Perfection in a bite.

The next day, same place,
But Nirvana had moved on,
Gelato beckons but perfection will forever be,
Flat, steaming bread.

Windshield wipers slap back and forth,
Hands gripped white on the wheel,
Wall of water in front of me.

Life giving, life taking,
Water to give, to wash away.

Radar fails me, into the beast we go,
Angels above protect us!

A dry heat,
Windows down in the pickup,
Sunburns in the back.

Sagebrush across the road,
Sugar beets in the ground,
Irrigation makes it happen.

My dry desert home,
Surrounded on all sides by towering mountains, stark and beauty collide.

Star so brilliant,
The Milky Way splashed across the sky,
Stillness in creation.

Estate sales are crazy.
Perusing all that is left of a life,
Hunting for bargains in memories.

A handwritten note falls out of a cookbook,
Elegant cursive,
Was the dinner a success?

This person LOVED Christmas,
Two rooms stacked full of ornaments,
Star cookie cutters well used.

What will my estate sale look like?
I hope nothing,
Let me leave nothing and take all love with me.

Wrinkles here, wrinkles there,
Squishy skin pops up everywhere.
Age is stamping all over me.

Wrinkles from the laughter,
Those ones I will take,
That turkey neck can go however,
But pile on the cake!

Go grey or try to dye it,
Why do I have to choose,
Leave my hair in all its glory, what do I have to lose?

A six year old caught on the fly,

Did you dump that out?

I don’t know, comes the reply.

Really? Is that a lie?

Through dimples and giggles you hear,

Yeah.

You roll eyes at the cuteness,

saying, Go, with a sigh.

He then dashes outdoors,

pretending to fly.

Two girls sneaking out of the house,                        A gift from dad’s prankster friend,                       Truck straight ahead.

On tiptoes goes the older, the younger giggles.
Pop, goes the spark plug top.
Wires wrapped around, top and hood replaced.

Two girls peeking out the window,
Dad getting in for work,
With a key turn, magic happens.
Whoo, whoo, whoo!
Crackle, crackle, crackle!
Smoke billowing.
A glorious tradition started.