24 Hour Poetry Marathon Hour 4: A Tribute to Robert Frost “The Walk”

A walk in the night
when I can hear my loquacious feet
the innate awareness
of my consciousness and heart’s lone beat

I ask how far I should go
as I try to define an end
waiting for fatigue or a message
that my hopes and fears will send

The world has gone to bed
except the occasional flicker of light
the uncertainty of time
and the threat of dreams in flight

Before me, an open gate
and the deafening whir of birds
breaking from the scraggy grasses
and a misty dust that stirred

This was where I would turn
into this home of stale air
to walk past pedestals
of entombments silent blare

The bleakness and silence of the moon
shepherded me to doom
my heart in a thud of panic
a place of strangely attractive gloom

I was touching my death
and took a deep sigh
a stopped before a sepulcher
…my life began to cry

My wisdom was now a volunteer
providing me with the choice
to face the mighty heavens
or prolong my tottering voice

 

 

 

24 Hour Marathon Hour 3: A Tribute to Langston Hughes “The Lesson of Night”

I will carry my dreams
wherever they take me
for I know not where they go
in my desire for an unplanned flee

My dreams seem immortal
as they taunt and scold
Yet laughter’s breath is not far away
as I shiver in the sunless cold

All those tragic heroes
rendered useless by fate
send to me a message
that opens heaven’s gate

Life seems futile
I, like a finless salmon
swimming hopelessly upstream
leading to famine

The fields of dreams so dreary
like the shadowy moors
and spine-chilling shriek of wolves
that only fantasy endures

They keep coming back
as if I will never hold there say
but now I join them
with the woolgathers of the day

24 Hour Marathon Hour 2: A Tribute to Emily Dickenson “The Puzzle”

Where is my heart
scattered over the territory
left outside of me
resting, agitated, awaiting decree

I shall attempt to define
each piece
before I reach a conclusion
of totality’s transfusion

I could take steps
from my feet of pain
to embrace a life that stands
bearing my tight, cold hands

Assuming agony is hot
then my chilled emotions
could anchor one’s fear
changing lacerations to scarless cheer

Recognizing my own tears
as I rise to the surface
safe from drowning sorrow
… There is faith to borrow

Will yesterday’s wine
give me courage
or is the intoxicant a guise
to my own demise

Before my put-together heart
can be heard elsewhere
commemorating my trail
pathing my passion to avail

Must I enter another world
hateless…
a home for gentler words
crickets and window-sill birds

24 Hour Marathon Hour 1: Tribute to Marianne Moore “Awareness”

the awareness

of that mighty struggle

bats and Characidae

 

all bearing fruit

like pomegranate seeds

in blood-like vigilant deeds

 

fruit-bearing fruit

carcinoma unfolding

creations gift  beholding

 

obstacles rising

from man’s industrious spew

credit where credit is not due

 

tied and strangled

vines of insulation

hearing old soliloquy’s narration

 

Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again, and make

Perpetual life, or let hour be but

A year, a month, or a season’s root in jut

 

Nuts fearing the great chill

and the little plant that could

Kazakhstan’s dandelion of rubberwood

 

hand-cuff tendrils

knotting until strangulation

Awareness in gestation