The Poetry Marathon

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

Kaleidoscope Equation

Reflections and colors reveal human life
Inside the journey, paints future’s design
Each shift and swirl holds certain equations
Moments merge in an ever-changing display

Emotions and feelings perceived shadows
Zooming in as patterns meet the vibrant
In this lifetime voyage, there we find turns
That modify its hues according to subject

With every spin, we decrypt perspective
With every axis, and adjust the possibilities
Analyzing the equations of life’s kaleidoscope.

 

Prompt 17

Hour-17

Prompt 15 – In Defense of my Canine Friend

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

 

In shadows cast by moonlight’s glow,

A battle brews, emotions flow,

With trembling heart, I stand my ground,

In defense of my loyal hound.

My sister, dear, with furrowed brow,

Questions the way I care for now,

She claims my love is far too blind,

To see the truth of what’s behind.

But let me tell you, sister mine,

These canine eyes, they brightly shine,

With love that knows no bounds nor end,

A bond so deep, my dearest friend.

You see, I know he’s spoiled, it’s true,

A pampered pup, in all we do,

But in his eyes, I see the trust,

In me, he knows, he’s found his just.

He sleeps beside me, every night,

In darkness, his eyes still shining bright,

He listens to my whispered fears,

And licks away my salty tears.

In every wag, in every bark,

I find a piece of my own heart,

A love that’s pure, without disguise,

Unwavering, beneath the skies.

So, sister dear, before you judge,

Consider this, the deepest grudge,

For in my dog, I’ve found my grace,

A bond that time cannot erase.

I’ll cherish him, come what may,

Through sunny skies or stormy day,

In this potential fight, I’ll stand,

To protect my furry friend.

For he and I, we share a soul,

A love that makes us both feel whole,

And though you may not understand,

I’ll defend him, hand in hand.

Antoinette LeRoux © 2023

Everything good is bad. Everything lost was had. Everything happy gets sad. And everyone deserves a dad. I got a ways to go. But I’ll never know. Until I fully grow. From the seeds that I chose to sow. I am everything. Everything is nothing. A lovely paradox parade. Come sail away on the float of curiosity. It didn’t kill the cat.

Hour 18 “The Price Of Admission…”

Hour 18

9/3/2023

 

“The Price Of Admission…”

 

Friends…

mean more than a moment’s pause

and careless laughter…

more than a thought-full glance

and the choice of left behind.

 

And yes, when we GO away

life remains

and people change

and move on in ways we never knew.

 

But…

some

have no one …else…

to share what it meant to be them –

anymore

and they die

…die, in inches

in their dark and empty existence.

 

A letter …just a simple paragraph

scribed and sent –

and I didn’t think of it.

Didn’t do it.

 

You see –

I escaped,

found tomorrows,

touched my stars.

 

Dave …Dave didn’t forget me.

Didn’t move on, couldn’t …move on.

 

Too late, I found out –

He thought I was ashamed of him,

of knowing him,

and that I just wanted him to go …away…

 

So he did

…go…

away.

Flowers just don’t work

when ya stand looking down

– at the ground

…remembering.

 

Ya quickly learn

your price of admission.

 

Chris

(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023