What is love? What is love if not the adoring gaze of a Swiss cow gazing at you across mountain meadows.
Category: Marathon Poem
Hour 9 image prompt – Swallowtaile
Swallow tails Don’t need their tails They just use them to Escape the birds Oh shoot this is almost late. I’ll do it properly later
Hour 9
After attempting and accepting, Barely balancing between battling blissful, Calamity creeps, casually comparing, creatures categorized, concepts conceptualized, Darling daughter, disown drama, Emotions Evolve, encompassing environmental encounters, Fabulous familiar friends faithfully family, Gratefully gathering, generous gestures, Happily home helping, Important images increase infinite imagination, Jets jerk…
Hour Nine: Running on Empty
She cries. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, I just don’t know what to do!” A tremor in my voice, “I can’t tell you. I don’t know.” I’m afraid of her despair. I want to hold space,…
Inside Me…
My life has taken turns and twists thats made me who I am. An angry, volatile kind of gal, that’s full of love still. Those facets may not mix to you, but inside me they do. I pray and pray and do the right things….
6 PM – Find Joy in Pain
Find Joy In Pain I find joy in my pain, so I can cling to my sanity. Patchwork hues of yellow blend, with each stroke of my blues and all the in-betweens. I decided, upon my primary color wheel expectation, green has always been…
Hour 9–Please Explain This to Me
I’m not here really The bath wiped some time off my skin but it’s only hour 9 and I’m braindead there’s this unfocused layer underneath the mask of my face that’s named Bleary or whatever He’s not real sure what about this English language he’s…
Cool Air
My air conditioner is a window unit and if I didn’t rent I think that I would shoot it. Its loud and noisy and I can’t bear it. It doesn’t cool anywhere. It seems to hate me. My ears are rattled and myself is sweating….
Almost Home hour 9
Almost Home Familiar scents and foods could make this seem like home. potatoes and beets in a bucket on the floor. the basket of foraged wild mushrooms near my feet. cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. the heavy canvas oiled jacket thrown across the chair…
Hour 6 – Love on the Horizon
Light bends at the horizon Archs and dips with the flow Shadows fall to slumber while snowcap rise aglow Love follows the same The trajectory tortuous Dodging hills Falling to dales Abandoned and hollowed musings Fall to the darkness of caves Left to their own…