The Poetry Marathon

Just a moment: Hour 5 Poem 5

Take me back to the waters of the deep blue ,

Where billies of clouds covers oceans sky’s,

And peace and serenity intertwine,

Sights of wondrous sunrise and sunset,

Rays of sun kissing my sweet melanin skin,

Soft sand sifting through my toes,

Worry me not today,

For I have reached a state of bliss,

And in this moment,

I am and so shall I be,

Closing my eyes to visualize,

The sights, smells, sounds,

I am here;

I have found such a blissful place,

I must bottle it up and close it real tight,

Save it for when a reminder of such a time,

exited in time.

 

Eating My Way Through a Poem

Eating My Way Through a Poem

 

no one likes to admit her strange alchemy

in a universe of distraction & bad habits

 

reduced fat Cheez Its, baked whole grain Goldfish

black licorice twists, fat free & fructose

 

chewing settles my inner ruminant, i ingest

artificial flavors to spike desire

 

for words, excavate truths awaiting discovery

or swell of lyric deep in my belly

 

caffeine washes down fullness, gives rise to        space

tormented line breaks rush to page

 

in mouthfuls of inspiration, crunched rhythms 

of heart songs tapped on a food stained keyboard

 

June 26, 2021

Looking Back

Our first adult house was built in ’41
and we lived in it for 23 years.
We know little of the genealogy and stories
of the previous occupants of that address.
That imaginary of the past didn’t seem to peak our interest,
despite the occasional plastic action figure or
miscellaneous mystery metal fragment buried in the backyard
or in the dirt cellar where the furnace lived.
Digging into that kind of bygone times
is not where our obsessive excavations take place.
Perhaps, it was the nazi sticker found on our side walkway,
or the pack of aggressive pit bulls
that trampled our garden
or the large several dumpster size garbage heap
with hawks perched on the fence
seeking out rats in our other neighbor’s yard
that stilled whatever curiosity
we may have had into the history of that place.

See how my garden grows

The dirt is destroyed from swaying years of care and neglect.

A layer of new sod with that green wire that doesn’t biodegrade

followed by no watering, no tending, no rinsing. Dust. Repeat.

But I dig down. First with the tiny shovel. Then the big one.

Then I pickaxe through the layers of my backyard Napolean,

Reading the stories of the owner’s past.

One tried roses.

One loved jacaranda trees.

One settled for ficuses.

Still I dig, to add to the tale –

Below the petunia,

I’ll plant the bones of my husband.

 

Prompt 4: Hour 4: Monster Inside

“She turned the door handle and switched on the light”-

terrified of what may be lurking in the darkness.

Shaking,

teeth chattering,

mind running wild-

Only to soon realize,

the monster she was terrified of

was within her.

(Last line of The Curiosities as my first line)

Gary’s New House

POEM 05

It’s as naked as you think Gary is in that “soaker tub.” Tilly his girlfriend gifted him that pitiful little black lamp and that tiny meditating Buddha, both gifts of love.

Gary is stoked by the white starkness of that bathroom and the empty glass bottles that Tilly no longer had need of.

 

The house is barely furnished yet, but it’s clean and sleek with angular newness and a massive kidney shaped swimming pool to boot.

It rests on a hilltop amidst a Multitude of iron gates and BMWs of the wealthy, you know people with bank–loot.

 

Gary’s nearest neighbor sips his coffee on his floating balcony dressed in Armani. But, hey Gary’s a “Text Wizard,” he owns no designer wear.

But he got Tilly a “must-have-celebrities-own-it” green handbag that she carries everywhere.

 

Tilly has catalogs with furniture particular and peculiar, just right for Gary’s new place.

She already got him a king sized Maserati frame bed—but bathing or fully dressed that “soaker tub” is still Gary’s sweet space.

 

stories

the entire 200 year old house

was a  time capsule

and if it’s walls could talk

the tales they’d tell

listen you can imagine the voices of

plantation owners

slave  workers

rebel soldiers

brother against brother

the civil war

history tucked away in every corner

a history that had many stories

all truths to be heard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hour 5

Miraculous

 

I found a time capsule, can you believe it?

And inside it was a tiny fairy, she told me

that she survived due to the power of hope.

Somehow I understood everything she said.

 

I was mesmerized, she was happy to share.

She said that she was born out of a lullaby

and that a powerful princess sent her here

to guard the dreams of those encountered.

 

It was the princess’s gift to a planet losing faith.

I was really happy to meet her and I felt blessed.

She left to be the guardian of others’ dreams too,

not before adding that I can keep her in my heart!

The Last One – Prompt 1

Poem 1

 

The Last One

 

When she was a young mother with a toddler

and an infant, she said that she would make 

note of the last washer load of dirty 

diapers she washed. As the children grew, she

realized that she could pass that magic 

day without noticing it. So she made 

a mark on the calendar each time she 

washed diapers. The years rushed by and she made

marks on her calendars signifying 

the last of milestones like school years and summer

camps and then the days she surrendered her

hopes and dreams to the reality of 

aging. Her children flipped through the stack of

calendars in the box in the closet 

the day they finished cleaning out her house,

the day after the day they put her in the home.

Time capsule

I wish for a time capsule –
something I could open and see
you and you and you and you
— and you! –
All those I have lost.

I would gather you all around me
in some sort of Celestial pub
and we would raise glasses,
shout out cheers,
sing songs and tell tales
of the days and the loves
of long, long ago.