The Poetry Marathon

Visits (Prompt 18)

The veil is thin between here, now
there and now, there and then
I have been visited from whatever
might be termed the other side
benevolent, mischievous, timely
encounters I have come to appreciate

There are things we cannot see
unexplainable, palpable
moments in time; visits from
people I have known
others I have not
some I am not at all sure of
we never converse
though I often hear
frequently respond

What separates here and now
physical, tangible
touch it with your hands now
is something within each of us

I don’t know who, don’t grasp why
not even sure that I am supposed to
if I say I am haunted
people will back away
though haunt only means
to be visited
to constantly seek the company of
to reappear continually
so sayeth Merriam-Webster

To say I am haunted by the past is
not up for debate
is not meant to show angst
it only means I get it
even when I don’t

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2023
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Rachnoc Haiku 18 Hour 18

Brown, green weedy sludge,
Locks on coral grapsed, salt thighs,
He cuts at the flesh.

Unprotected

UNPROTECTED

Unprotected

You entered my world

Our hearts racing

UNPROTECTED

You treated me8f0

Like I owed you every breath

Unprotected

Your ego in charge

Your pleasure- Your sole priority

Unprotected

My body entangled in the chains

of your rage

Hopeless with no escape

 

 

Hawthorn at Paddington Meadows

It’s August still

and yet the field edges are

unseasonably alight.

Great stands of hawthorn hedges,

the most ancient in all of Cheshire,

loaded so heavily with scarlet fruit

bend over you,

into the wet wildflower meadows

created in the crook of the River Mersey,

the boundary river.

 

Author: ©️Jane Eckford

2nd September 2023

Rachnoc haiku 17 hour 17

Sorry it was stuck in drafts

Maid’s limbs elongate,
Suckers escalate, marine,
Sea weed smothers walls.

Hour 8: The violin

She was rejected again and again
By every music company, by every music competition
But she continued playing her violin
Sometimes in the park, other times outside the temples
Today she sat in a deserted garden, closing eyes and
Playing the violin until her fingers bled
A homeless who regularly napped there, rushed to her
Why do you play it till your fingers and heart bleed?
“Because if wounds and hurt had a voice, they would be violins…”

Hour 18- Haunting Sadness

We traveled to New Orleans, to seek out the darker side

We headed to an apartment; there were secrets it did hide.

A tragic tale unfolded when a young man jumped to his end

A note found in his pocket, to his apartment police were sent

He had killed his girlfriend, in a fit of drunken rage

Authorities came to the murder house where a young woman ended her days.

It was to this apartment we went and answers we would seek.

The atmosphere was very sad and the floorboards did creak.

I was standing in the bathroom, where I asked if they were there

Two words came up on my app, they were “shape” and “male”.

At that exact moment, a tall, dark shadow flew by me

I was startled from my sadness, and tried not to flee.

I made my way to the other room, to find our great guide

I told her what happened and she began to smile.

She asked if the shadow was tall and when I did agree

She nodded her head, said she knew who it was, later she told me.

The young man who jumped to his death stood at six foot eight

His sadness still lingers, because of his grievous fate.

The situation was very sad; I did not find this scary,

I hope one day he will find peace, move on, let the past be buried.

Dream Visit

You’ve come to me in a dream again.
This time it’s exactly a year since
you left us,
after fist fighting with death
until there was no fight left.

Now here you are-
radiant and giddy,
“Fine as frog’s hair,”
unencumbered by aging or illness…
or a life that never pulled any punches.

I reach out with both arms
to pull you closer.
As I am about to touch you,
poof!
you are gone again.

The Crow

It was back
The crow with the single
Pale blue eye
Perched on Mrs. Haversham’s fence
Staring intently
Where it came from
No one really knew
But every day it came
Perching, staring
Immovable

They tried to scare it off
Shoo it away
But nothing they did
Seemed to have any affect

Time passed and soon the crow
Melted into the background
No longer noticed
By the passersby
No longer a mystery
Or point of concern
Just another piece of scenery
To be ignored

The day Mrs. Haversham
Passed from this world to the next
Rumors floated around
About what really happened
Some said it was natural causes
Some said it was suicide
Some blamed her greedy nephew
Some noticed the crow
Never returned

FATE

An unkindness soaring through the air,
Make their presence known,
Forewarning beware!
Wishing to be left alone,
You hurry through; too pressed to care.
In the distance arises dawn,
And the Ravens begin to appear.
You quicken your pace, looking in the direction from which they have flown,
And you say a little prayer.
For all the kindness you have shown,
You hope to be spared.
You look up to see him perched high on his throne,
Staring back with a glare,
You feel deep in your bones.