The Poetry Marathon

Deadly Zone

She’s had her school bag but her future is belated

I felt shocked and disorganized.

“Murdered by her Preceptor”

It sounded like a reckoning in my ear

North, south, west, east, there and here.

I couldn’t shut my eyes

to this head-scratching

 

I sat quietly, musing on my muse

Reference my mood of instabilities.

It seems my head was below my legs

As shadow lurks around the eggs.

This is the intersection between battle and harmony

 

This is the peak point of hell in our entity

Why does their last word go with a sword?

If I have known the danger behind a smile,

I would have cried more before I smiled.

Nothing befits a life of selfishness,

Not even good health and happiness.

Circus

shoulda done read more books
every blink is a change-
attention shift
attention drift
like living in a casino, except there’s no money
anywhere

tapp an app

Hour 17, Poem 22

The beautiful flower of despair
Blooms on the edge of the cliff
The cold one with no shelter
Merciless winds beating throughout the year
There you can reach by losing all your warmth
And feeling cold to the bones, hollow inside out
And once there, you just need to lean
A little forward and see
Flowers of red, flowers of dead
And if you lose and fall,
Another flower will bloom right there
The beautiful flower of despair
Blooming on the edge of the cliff…

Life Passes Quickly – Hour Seventeen

Life Passes Quickly

Life passes so quickly
So try not to blink
For as sure as you do
Time shall fly in a wink
One moment, a baby
A newborn of need
Then blink, now a graduate
Ready to succeed

Life passes so quickly
Where do the years go
Each year they fall faster
Than December snow
One moment, it’s Christmas
Blink – Fourth of July
It slips to the future
So do not ask why

Life passes so quickly
Our time a mere flash
A mere fleeting hour
We forge a mad dash
A rush to the finish
An impact where we will
For if one thing is certain
Time will never stand still

 

10pm

i imagine the sunset as a blanket

thrown over the earth

floating down upon it

slowly enveloping the world in darkness

nothing can escape the coziness

of the night time covers

being pulled up to our chins

and the cool air of the wind

gently patting our head

whispering

rest my babies rest

Kaleidoscope

We shift,
And the colours come into view.
I turn into your shoulder
And the red folds into blue.
The blue catches the lamplight
From the bedside table,
By its glint we read our book
And fractal evenings stable.
The light fades into yellows
Like sun on summer grass
And we turn again, unending;
The future fills the past.

Hour 17

Kettles boiling

Art speaking

Lilacs blooming

Electric shocking

Ice cream dreams

Dancing butterflies

Oceans swaying

Sycamore trees talking

Clouds floating

Oranges full of scent

Poppies blossoming

Everything as it should be

7pm. Poem 17. Kaleidoscope (a four stanza tanka)

7pm. Poem 17.

Kaleidoscope (a four stanza tanka)

Lemme shimmy down
get a better view from there 
or a different one
than I’ve been holding fast to
a lighter one than lately.

Lemme turn the wheel
look for fish shapes, Moons, and Suns
and pink, rough cat tongues
hanging from triangular
blue and purple kitten heads.

Lemme see through shards
of wildly vibrant glass shapes.
Let them form tall trees
and lighted backed sharp prisms
to set me back on my path.

Lemme skry my tales
of futures to remember
of plans made before
coming here to live them out,
how my new roads will wind down.

REVERIE FOR YOUTH – #17

Fractals falling into formation

Shards of stained glass

opaque and translucent

capture the imagination

demand reverence

Enigmatic delight

2023 Hour 17: Kaleidoscope

I repeat the stories.
The ones I remember,
The ones I’ve heard.
The ones that make me
Who I am.
And with each telling,

Memories scatter.
Fracture.
Settle into unexpected,
Unexplained places.
Transposing names,
Faces,
Experiences.
Until my world is
New again.