“Cruel Trick” The most brilliant misconception out there is the idea that you need ANYTHING other than to be your truest self. To live your life as anything other than authentically you.
Category: Marathon Poem
#20-A Walk under the Moon
Perks of being of the female gender, So many, it addles my brain. Not being able to take a walk at night, Just one of the very many. Do everything in our power, To make sure we don’t feel powerless, But powerful, oh I haven’t…
Hour 20_prompt
with darkness my cloak i walk smooth satin sky flecked with stars swiss dot fabric enrobing night in this expanse all is unveiled and the smallest frog’s throaty song resounds.
Hour 19 – Sleep Juices
My sleep juice is slow. I feel it pooled in my knuckles, soaked into supposedly dexterous tendons. I see it fizz in my eyes, a clinging veil just vaguely frosted. It takes a few minutes of clenching fists and wiping glasses for the sleep juice…
She changed
She came at the door, With the eyes, where all my secret lies, you may write down all, beloved, are you still mine ? I noted the obvious differences, shadows on the wall, the dark sadness, beloved, are you still mine ? When…
the darkened road less traveled
look up, my friend at the blueberry sky connect the dots and discover new constellations that you can name after your guinea pig or your first lover look down, my friend and see that the moon casts shadows too as it dances around the body:…
Hour 20,
Light is absent as l meander along the cliff top track, my mind absorbed in thought, work, children, poetry, art, every now and then my heart jumps at the loud thump of a startled wallaby, l stop at the lookout the white peaks of waves…
Meeting places #thepoetrymarathon #prompthourtwenty
That thin line between the full moon and insanity… That ribbed edge of the flower bed where only weeds grow… That gold brocade of the wedding saree I never wore again… That flicker of light caught in a raindrop poised to fall… That quiet chirp…
Night Owls (Hour 20)
Owls hoot on huge trees along unlit paths of unpopulated roads. They send chills down the spine of the inexperienced night walker. Their frontal eyes mean and cold, they are supposed to be evil terrorising humans; tales handed down from generation to generation, tales my…
Hour 19: Inimitable
Inimitable not by design but by my twistings like a leaf in the wind turning on a dime the details are unimportant would you be changed by knowing that I’ve had 2 eggs, veggies and toast for breakfast for too many months to recall Or…