The Poetry Marathon

In Praise of Small Town Stores

An abandoned storefront
sits sadly on the main street of a small town.
The spread of chain stores
has robbed America of individuality.
Box stores beat out neighborhood merchants
leaving the country impoverished of creativity and courage.
A skyscraper does not have the heart
of a weathered storefront
even though it stretches high as a passing cloud.
Better to shop a store with three aisles
for sourdough bread and periwinkle bedsheets
than to feed the corporate coffer.

So Entitled

So Entitled

 

I deserve to travel,

frequently enjoy dining in restaurants,

delight in shopping for my own groceries.

Almost never get stopped by police

or have my authority questioned.

Always have access to cable and internet,

wear a becoming hair style

and comfortable clothes,

drive a reliable car,

have money in the bank,

a good supply of toilet paper, and

get medical care when I need it.

I adore concerts and

gatherings with good friends.

 

What entitles you to

run around outside unvaccinated,

spread misinformation,

place others in danger,

and encroach on my entitlements?

Random Prompt (11)

“All I knew was that I wanted to
spend New Year’s Eve with you”
What happened to that woman?

What happened to the woman who
leaned over the table and whispered
“you look beautiful tonight”

What happened to the woman who said
“I’m going to marry you”

What happened to the woman who
felt safe when I held her

What happened to the woman who put
her arm around me and held me close

What happened to the woman who was going to
get a sledgehammer to knock her walls down to
make us work

Where did that woman go
and who the hell is this one?

Company of Ladies

Let’s talk trash.
Let’s talk genteelly about trash.
Let’s talk about trash and call it cute.
That cute trash…let’s market it.
That cute trash now has a demographic.
That demographic can be sold so much more than just the cute trash.

Cute trash with ribbons
Cute trash with bows
Cute trash in photos with pitchers of margaritas.
Cute trash testimonials.
Cute trash that got its own TV talk show.

It’s the perfect storm for a bloodless coup.
My brain, your content.

Town Crier

Through the smoky woods

Come the shaky Forest Ranger

Her eyes bulged out in the lake of a black Periwinkle

That falls from the Cloud

 

Take this needle and sew a seed in my print

Spread these words to the town crier

Tell him to beat the drums harder till he bleeds

 

For there is a giant

A giant of stars before the storefront

Front Street part II

A U.S. Marine walking down Front Street is waiting to hit the beaches on Iwo Jima.

Fifty years  later his son walking down Front Street is waiting to hit the beaches on Maui.

Both on the same street waiting to hit a beach inexorably linked through time and space. If the first is not successful neither will be the second.

Front Street, where the past and the present collide, in the flickering of a moment, for reasons known only to a select few.

Hour 11: Can’t Say Goodbye

The last day started just like any else
I didn’t know it was the last then
When the final bell rang
I was still in denial
The next stage should have been anger
But all I felt was emptiness
Nothing made sense

Nothing made sense
Least of all the passage of time
I learnt about days in kindergarten
What’s the use?
When I can hardly tell them apart
Still keeping an ear out for familiar steps
Today feels like just any other day

Today feels like just like any other day
Except it isn’t
Nothing is true anymore
Nothing I can accept
The days, the finality of the change
You are not here anymore
But neither so am I.

Good death

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.

Damnation

Lost my first poem

Freestyle

Looking for Saw to still be playing

Somewhere countywide

Guess not, need cable, just local channels

And computer links

Antebellum with not enough volume

So rethink going to the theater

Maybe I’ll just stay in

Wait for my brother to call

While he’s back in town

North Bay/Collins his espousa trabajar

Maybe he’s moving from the north

Let’s see, calling fam in the vicinity!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompt 11: Hour 11: Perfection

Periwinkle colored sand

clouds that spread for miles

sourdough bread baking in the distance 

skyscrapers obsolete, 

as if finding a needle in a haystack.

 

The storefronts 

displaying their magical fall treasures 

as we all finally have beat the heat of Summer. 

 

My version of the perfect day.

 

(Used 8 of 10 prompt words)