Losing God at Dillard’s

Losing God at Dillard’s

 

I lost God

in a bathroom stall

at Dillard’s Department Store.

Knew he was gone,

felt his absence in the

empty echo of faux marble.

 

Arrogant, unmasked people

shuffling around all post-Covid,

not all vaccinated.

Hollow laughter, pod people

buying stuff again,

gobbling food court fare,

like it never happened,

though it’s still going on.

 

God must have left

the mall years ago.

I was just too busy or

self-involved to notice.

I bought boba tea,

sipped it as I left to

look for God at

the grocery store.

The Wheels

I can not run
I can not hide
I can not go down a children’s slide

You can do this and I can do that
What I can do, others can not
I can race across a hot parking lot

Both of your feet would blister and burn
Those with two legs, two feet and a spine
Could never keep up with these two wheels of mine

As you lumber to find your way
One foot down and the other just so
I’m wheeling round and round, to and fro

To soar like a king or dance like a queen
Moving across that marbled dance floor
I can keep going and want more and more

When ‘ere your limbs become leaden and sore
Mine do not tire, I do not fret
My legs do not cramp when riding a jet

It’s blessed that I am and blessed that I’ll be
’Tis only at night when the whippoorwill calls
that I honestly don’t think about it much, at all

In that darkest of dark within nights deepest night
When my soul soars forth and struggles to fly
It’s only then I look down and wonder why

What did I do to earn such a fate
To all I am kind, loving and fair
Then why am I tied to this blasted wheelchair

Hour 6_Meditation

Feel the ground as it holds you
firm, supporting
It does not ask you to prove
worthiness
or, god forbid, perfection
Recognize this
receive this.

When the time is right
lift one foot
do you notice the other leg
picking up the slack?
You need not ask permission
it is its very nature to do this
Feel the bend in your knee
Know the shifting pressure on the grounded hip

Okay
now reach out with that raised foot
place it on the waiting earth
Look at that!
Have you ever truly done this before?
Linger here a moment
Then, when you’re ready
switch sides

Repeat

This world class cooperation
This symbiosis of body
and environment
With each foot fall
the ground rises to meet me –
Blessed be!

Feet Talking

Prompt Hour Six

Feet talk.

They say where.

They say how—

far

high,

deep

slow

fast

—you go

Your brain says to your feet;

“I wonder”, and your feet takes the lead—

to wander.

To see new things.

to go—

beyond what you already know.

To the omnipresent.

 

 

Posted on June 26, 2021 2:00pm EDT by The Poetry Marathon

6. Mornings Camping Ma’alaea

Cool freshly wet sand under my feet

Not yet too warm sun breaking stained glass blue over Hale’akala, exploring my early face, directing shadows into every crease.

Ancient lava rock
up over up over

Navigating kiawe trees
kiawe thorns
kiawe thoughts

Turning higher sun hot massaging my shoulders reassuring my back

Rewarding crisp swim waiting

Mornings camping Ma’alaea.

Food is Music -Poem Six

Food is Music -Poem 6

 

Food is the heart of the soul

Water, Sunlight, and dancing trees

Crops are the music to the soul

Hopping, back sliding with disease

Skipping, pack planting with increase

Starving, as Poverty strikes our world

Hunger, as Food banks orphan’s curled

 

 

@Sabinah Adewole 26/06/2021

 

Septet -7 Line poem first line to rhyme with third line, second line to rhyme with fourth and fifth line, Sixth and seventh line should rhyme.

 

Hour 6 – Pandora’s Heart (text prompt)

And the heart strains against its bonds

Step by singular step

A gaited pace in brambles whack

The blood pressure meeting

The rhythm of the unknown

Destinations approach and recede behind

As an attempt is made goloberally

To hide the times when we stood still

And meet in honest filial harmony

A falter unhalted could end us

Turning from progress to a tumble

Of cubonic sorrow.

To stand still would end us.

 

definitions:

Goloberally: a word meaning within the entirety of the self as propelled by the brain in the subconscious.

Cubonic: of or pertaining to a tragic instance that raises more questions than it answers, ie: cubone’s pokedex entry is sad but makes you question the honesty of the writer as multiple cubones exist and you can see my living ditto has no skull that it’s cubone child could wear.

 

Secret–1pm

I’m fine
I’m OK
Anything to keep you
from learning the truth
my dirty little secret

I’ve fallen once more
ruined my good work
and the bitch of it is
No one will know
understand
or care

I don’t know how to
explain it to you

It was an accident
simply an accident
I didn’t mean to
I just scraped it
when I fell

As I lay me down
down to sleep
pray that maybe
someday
you will understand
and I’ll be free.

Don’t try to save me
I’m beyond saving

There is nothing that
you can do-
I can’t be saved
Some people work that way

Some people
are just wired
to hurt themselves
They crave it

Like a puzzle peice
once missing
now snapped into place.

If you’ve never done it
You won’t get it-
And that’s ok.

I’d rather keep you in the dark
and have you blind than to drag
you into my hell.

Where things just don’t
make sense and where
people constantly accuse
and judge you-
but you’re the one who punishes

SSSHHH-
It’s OK
just go back to
sleep-
Everything will be ok in the morning

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord to keep my soul
If I should wake in the morning-
It will be a miracle

Huddled down there
in the dark
desperately trying to breathe
Is this really how I want to live?

I’m ok
I’m ok
I just have to get a grip on
my anxieties and
put them away in the box
and tape it shut.

Would that help?

The Pond Trail

Along the path, the dog stops to smell oat grass,

rose bushes, and the trail crossing from pond to lake.

Ducks cross the path after dark, or early in the morning.

Daily, I follow this same trail past the lilies, past the cattails,

past the open water where the Virginia Rail has been

spotted by birdwatchers with long-lensed cameras. Often,

I hear its chattering call and have seen it pop out of the reeds

for a quick viewing more than once. Life birds, some people

call our winged friends they’ve been hunting for a long time.

Finally a spotting…or not. There are other perks on the path:

eating a pink rose petal, a Indian plum, or a Salmonberry. Soon

the thimbleberries will be ripe. This year I may try making jam

from them…like my grandmother once did.

6 I was here

Wake up for something different

More than just the day

Wanting to get started

With sunshine to make hay

 

Not just ‘cause I have to

For work to pay the bills

To keep the fires going

To ward off all the chills

 

There must be a better carrot

To keep me in the game

Not this everyday routine

That sometimes feels so lame

 

To paint a special story

As they did on old cave walls

To say I’ve been here also

It’s how immortality calls

 

There’s too much distraction

Every time I look and see

What’s going on outside this life

I search and can’t find me

 

Write a song and sing it often

When riding on the bus

When walking in the grocery store

To let them know we’re us

 

I’ll keep looking for my thing

That suits me to a “T”

I promise to lay down my mark

To remind us we are we