Hour 8: A Still Night
The stars sparkled against
the vast obsidian blanket,
stamping silhouettes in the
moonlight, when stillness
pervaded across the darkness.
The chirping crickets and
hopping frogs retired into
the trees as the world slept.
7. The new normal
Normal is no longer the norm.
With changes we now have to conform.
It may sound strange and absurd,
” New Normal” is now the buzz word.
The change in lifestyle, many do complain,
like an old sweater we want to retain.
Change with two hands, we got to embrace,
our old ways we can never, retrace.
For some, the new normal has been frightening.
For me the journey has been enlightening.
A new turn in direction to my philosophy,
as I get to grips with advanced technology.
I now, from home do work,
no long hours in traffic to drive me berserk.
I am more efficient and constructive,
the day is now more productive.
I am no longer tired and angry,
I even get more time with my family.
Powerful, Incredible, Comfortable, Successful
is now the “New Normal ”
Hopefully this is the last one about rain
R
A
I
N
Fall on my head
The air is cooler
And I might be
Able to think again
Hour 8: The Pinboard in my Room
The Pinboard in my room
is full of messages
From friends, family, my past self.
It has drawings, lots of them
From childish crayons to prudent pencils
And reckless splash of paint.
The to-do lists, quite a few of them
And pictures! Small printed moments
Of happiness, belonging, life.
The Pinboard in my room is a part of me
The memory, to remind me what’s important
When I have forgotten myself.
Hour 8, Poem 8: Hope
Tiredness sneaks in and makes me slow.
Mistakes are made but as long as I make it through I’m okay.
Between poems, I lay down and close my eyes.
Images dance behind yet my emotions are disconnected.
Waiting to hear my alarm to write another poem,
I disappear for a while within the hallways of my mind.
and hope I can it all done.
The new normal #thepoetrymarathon #prompthourseven
We cremated my uncle the other day
Actually we left the body and walked away
As the cadaver waited in queue.
There was a young girl my daughter’s age
Who died gasping for breath, her mother
Waiting soundlessly, was given the body instead.
The shoe-shine boy who made a living
Polishing our court shoes has disappeared.
The pandemic took him too.
You can hear the wails of the hopeless
The tide has come in and the water is poison
And shapeless things float to shore
They say masks are now mandatory
Keep sanitising your hands, get the vaccine
Stay safe and keep your distance
How do we distance ourselves from the deaths
The masks that our voices now have to wear
Is this now the normal, the common-place?
Is this the future of the human race?
Hope (image prompt 8, 4 pm)
Blue skies beckon.
The balloon basket awaits.
Burdens heavy set down.
The flame ignites.
Away into the heavens.
Let go of the rope.
Leave those burdens to God’s care.
Hold on to hope.
Two thoughts on laundry
Folding Friday’s starlight
Smoothing circumstance
Hand wash only
Dry flat
Cautiously close the drawer
Keep those wishes prisoner
There is no moral razzle dazzle
in the spin cycle
If there was, I would have
figured out how to get that
stain out of your favorite
Salt Life t-shirt
Normal Hour 7
Normal has been obliterated.
Utterly destroyed.
It was a false blanket of protection.
We had an insurrection at the U.S. state capital in 2021.
The Michigan governor was nearly kidnapped and held for ransom in 2020.
This is not a Hollywood movie or tabloid rant.
This is mainstream news.
Just like a Jamal Khashoggi, a journalist was killed for possible dissenting views in 2018.
Or how about Alexei Navalny, an opposition leader, who was poisoned in 2020.
Normal is not new. Not ever will be. Not for America, or the world.
Unrest still ravages the Tigray region in Ethiopia…
And we still await the return of the Benin bronzes to Nigeria.
Just as the Parthenon (Elgin) Sculptures are up for repatriation we can see one silver lining in that the greek godess Persephone, was returned home to Libya.
Walking… Hour 6
The path was filled with gravel.
The road was dimly lit.
He knew not the way.
Yet, still he proceeded.
He was on a mission.
Too grand to abandon.
No one knew.
His mind was made up.
He would meet many on the way.
Yet, this was not his solitary desire.
He choose a dangerous path for some.
He needed a reason to fulfill a goal.
One that was not known to man.
Or woman for that matter.
Perhaps a child might understand.
He had a plan.
Nothing, no one would or could stop him.