The Poetry Marathon

A frustrating life of an adult

The juicer whirrs as I hum. Nothing in particular sits in my head.
I throw another chunk of beet into the blender.
Confirming from the recipe book, I add some cinnamon
The juice whirrs up to the top, red foamy juice splashes on my pink jacket.
What is left of the juice gets upturned by my tremor. I hold my hand, stroking from elbow to wrist, elbow to wrist
The lightbulb overheard goes on and off, on and off, signalling a low electrical power unit.
Just when I think adulthood is done with me, it says not yet.

I walk into the garage to get a torch.
As I step into the garage- my carport with a fence. My leg locates a bucket forgotten after a car wash
My car stares at me like a displeased elk and then it goes wailing. I sit on the floor and cry.

I’m Back!

Okay couldn’t really sleep, so here I am, catching up

Hour 17 – Kaleidoscopic

Kaleidoscopic

Multi-colored bits of glass
Tin boxes full of rattling buttons
Polka-dots on little girl dresses
Varicolored jellybeans in a jar

Science tells us
We are attracted to these things –
Multitudes in prismatic array –
Because they give us a feeling of plenty

Dot stickers in rainbow colors
Plastic bins of building blocks
Cupcakes covered in sprinkles
Bright fish darting through coral reefs

Deprivation dogged our ancestors
So they filled their larders with jars
The bins and barrels and boxes
Made people feel safe for the winter

Christmas trees decked with lights
Colored markers standing in a cup
Glittery beads sliding on a string
Fancy flowers arranged in a vase

Next time you crave colored candy
Or buy yourself a box of crayons
It may, in part, be nostalgia
Or it’s your ancestors keeping you alive

Kaleidoscope a mirage

Hour 5

As a child, for science project I made a ‘Kaleidoscope’

As a mom for my child’s project I made a ‘Kaleidoscope’

I love looking at the different shades of colours reflected

I just love to admire the beautiful patterns formed

 

Thinking about my life I started feeding depressed

So many colours missing

So many patterns missing

So many shades missing

 

Looking through the ‘Kaleidoscope’

My life would have been so much colourful

So full of mysteries

I would have captured so many shades

 

I sighed and put down the ‘Kaleidoscope’

For the first time saw the real world

I saw beautiful colours, unimaginable shades and patterns

It’s time we put down the ‘Kaleidoscope’

 

Rashmi S Kurup

Prompt 16 – A Dubious Apology

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

 

With words so sweet, a honeyed tone,

My sister speaks, her contrite moan,

But hidden well, beneath her guise,

A subtle twist, veiled in her lies.

“Dear sibling,” she begins to say,

“I’m sorry for that fateful day,

When words were harsh, and tempers flared,

And your dear dog, I rudely stared.”

Her voice, so gentle, feigned remorse,

But watchful eyes, I stay on course,

For in her tone, a subtle smirk,

Her twisted scheme, a cunning quirk.

“I never meant to cause offense,

In my defense, I took no offense,

Your dog’s just fine, he’s quite alright,

A sturdy soul, despite the fight.”

A backhanded “sorry,” I perceive,

A dance of words, a web she’d weave,

She feigns remorse with utmost grace,

But in her heart, a different chase.

Her apology, a sly charade,

With hidden jabs, it’s well-played,

For though she claims to make amends,

Her true intent, she won’t amends.

So, sister dear, I see your game,

Your words may flicker like a flame,

But I’ll protect my loyal friend,

With love and care, until the end.

Your apology, though thinly veiled,

Will not leave me feeling derailed,

For in my dog’s unwavering eyes,

True love and trust, no need for lies.

Antoinette LeRoux © 2023

16 candles

This is not poem.

That is to say,

I am not a poem today.

I don’t rhyme all the time

But I rhyme when I rhyme

So the times when I rhyme

I don’t time I just rhyme.

This is not a poem,

It’s a sign.

Something you

were meant to find.

(Its like dick to your mind,

Well, . . . Like a p***y to mine.)

This poem does not identify as poem,

Or prose, or any type of poetic mumbo jumbo.

It maintains and requires no pronouns at this time.

It chooses to identify as JULIAN the INKED.

This article of writing has no form, it does not care to be read but it was maid . . .  E . . . made  to inform.

This is too near to be clear and too far from the norm.

A shit storm.

As they say in the industry.

What industry?

That

Is the mistery.

Of Misery

Pissery.

I am no poem.

I am not even poetic or rhythmic,

I am horrific idle jiverish

The gift exchange that’s re exchanged

For Xmas, Hanakka

In

Santa

Monica.

I’m serious, don’t even THink of thinking of mE As a poem.

Stop trying to find my flaws or my form.

In fact, I’m not here to perform or inform.

I’m here to belong

Not to

be

Long.

16 strong.

This is for

The Poeticly

Mentally spiritually Strong.

Keep on keeping on.

You know how you know when you’re doing great!?

When you get 16 candles on your g*dd*m cake!

This is no poem.

This is a congratulatory note.

For being the 16th poem that you wrote.

(Today, In 16 hours, beast mode).

To the few, the proud, the crazy crowd.

Salute.

 

KALEIDOSCOPE OF LIFE

Life is everchanging.
With each different path taken,
A new view emerges.
And we converge,
Trying to see,
The new vision that has come to be.
Steady is the hand that passes,
This everchanging form of ashes.
Like looking through a Kaleidoscope,
Your heart begins to fill with hope.
All the intricate shapes and bright colors,
You move around, praying to find others.
Only to reach the last lonely stop,
Where you lost your Kaleidoscope and felt your heart drop.

Hour 17 – When I think of you

Poem 17

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I want to marry 

you by [the summer of June 2026]. 

Fuck the economy and fuck our student loans.

I can’t wait to call you my husband.

 

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I imagine my dress 

To be an elegant [spaghetti strap nothing], 

[Body-con], like we both know I prefer. Inlaid with

[Pearls], and [sequins], and all the [sparkling things].

Maybe I could even have [dainty tea gloves] like

my mom had for her special day.

 

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I believe our wedding 

should take place somewhere [stupidly ostentatious]. 

Like a [castle] or like a [villa]. We’re not the type to have

a [destination wedding], but if we were to have one,

let’s host it in [Rome].

 

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I think our first

Dance should go to the song [“At Last”] by [Etta James].

And not because my [aunt] did it first, but because I fell 

Hopelessly in love with the lyrics and how [Etta] accurately 

stole the feelings from my heart and made them tangible. 

 

I haven’t shared this with you yet, but I genuinely think

[My parents] would like you. Even though we grew up 

worlds apart, there’s nothing that will stop your 

Earnestness from shining through. [They] will see that

and rest easy, knowing [their baby girl] is in good hands.

Like I always knew I was.

I Wonder

I WONDER

I wonder if you will ever wake up

Burying your nightmare deep into the ground

I wonder

If you ever loved me with your every breath

I wonder

If you will ever find

The YOU – you never took time to know

I wonder