The Poetry Marathon

Them and Me.

I wish for a release from
the energies that bind me.
The ones that wish to control and defined me.
I don’t belong to them, I belong to me.
These juvenile texts are used
to express what I feel.
Does that not make them all the more real?
Yet still, I struggle with desires to please others and cater to their needs.
I wish I could explain this need to please.
It’s like a cancer that has plagued my being.
I’m always concerned with how they think of me.
Like a crossroads of caring about what others perceive and how I care only
about what I see in me.
It’s as though I live for them and me.
It’s a strange place to be.

The Joy of Unseen Things

I’ve heard it said that love
is the nearest proof we have
that there is a God.

When I am far from you
and can’t rest my eyes
on the glory of your face
I am still filled with peace and joy
knowing you are there.

When my arms long to gather you close,
even though you are far,
I comfort them with stories of the moon –
her power and pull,

whether seen or unseen.

Comfort–Hour 2

The night before my surgery

bed rested body

but the sleepless mind fell away

into a soothing reverie of

bananas milk and sugar

As a treat Mom would slice a banana evenly

a succession of sweet ivory coins

into a cereal bowl

add milk

then a sprinkling of sugar

yellowing slightly against

the jumbled islands

a memory completely forgotten for sixty years

resurrected

sweet on my tongue again

 

HOUR 3 The Duplitious Duet

The Duplicitous Duet

 

I followed the cannibalistic Valkyrie to her subterranean sanctum

Noticing her desire to witness my dark inclinations

I watch as she presents her array of wicked mechanisms

The luminous glint of cold steel inviting death’s manifestation

 

Blessed Valkyire

I glance at the being contaminated by his final moments

Slowly pacing about the ensuing corpse my form of amusement

The animalistic void devouring the sight of torments

The palatable cavern of delights welcome my murderous movements

 

My crazed Valkyire

The mask about my falsified self begins to slip

My hands steady as the other takes wicked hold of me

Soon the chosen blade within my delighted grasp

Inching closer to he who is at his last

 

Tainted Valkyrie

The unsympathetic knife raised with steady possession

Its ow n life imbued with my nether regions of my abyss

Hovering before the plunge of our sinister obsession

Blood flows in currents and rivers of murk born mists

 

The Adoration of my Valkyrie…..

 

Welcome

 

 

 

 

 

Hour Two, Image Prompt

Reflective

Angry words flew between my love and I,
propelled me away from our shared space,
stomping my way to our kitchen,
red fury in my eyes
and black thoughts in my head
as my hands filled the sink
with stacked dirty dishes
and boiling hot water.

I squirted dish soap
into the flowing water
with one vicious squeeze
and a string of minuscule bubbles
shot out around my face and shoulders,
startling my mind away
from thoughts of what I would wear to his funeral one day,
grudgingly barking a short laugh at myself.

Transfixed, my eyes tracked
each bubble,
reflected colors streaking their surfaces,
and tiny kitchen snapshots
with tiny me in their center
watching each implode, disappear,
with a near inaudible
pop,
pop,
pop,
but for one holdout
caught on the towel roll
in front of my eyes.

There it stayed
for an eternity,
longer than any bubble
had a right to remain,
and I told myself
to move,
convinced I could not
until it popped,
and waited,
unmoving,
waited,
stilled,
waited.

Pop.

The dog

“Dog” “dog” “dog”

Dog across the street.
Dog next to the stroller.
Dog in the book.

“Dog” “dog” “dog”

Dog on the TV.
Dog out the window.
Dog on the junk mail.

“Dog” “bye” “dog”

Got a new word,
But he wants
the dog.

“Dog” “dog” “dog”

He was promised a
Dog
By a reluctant dad.

“Dog” “dog” “dog”

Now it’s dogs get covid.
Dogs smell bad.
Dogs take tine take time.

“Dog” “dog” “dog”
Where’s the dog?

“Dog” “dog” “dog”

Now he also has
“Bird”
“Book”
“Dog” “Bye” “dog”

Even though
Most of the day

Dog walking by
“Dog” “Dog” “dog”

Dog crossing the street
“Dog” “dog” “dog”

One day “dog” will become a name.

“Fluffster”
“George”
“Mr. Pickles”

Until then,
“Dog” “dog” “dog”

Walking My Human – Part 2

 

Walking My Human – Part 2

 

Guys, grab the leash

and slap it around your human.

Get outside now!

There’s a plethora of tasty treats

Just outside your front door!

They are called ci-ca-das.

They are crunchy on the outside,

Soft and chewy on the inside.

These cicadas are everywhere!

You know, this is the golden time of the year:

Not only are you walking while having a buffet,

But you’ll also drive your human insane with all the extra stops.

Paw and sniff to your heart’s content!

With each step,

These cicadas are everywhere.

Cripe, I almost drove my human to blow a gasket.

A cicada took flight and I

Launched myself

After it.

I caught air,

And the leash snapped tight toppling the recycling bin.

Omg! It was a thing of beauty!

Bottles, cans, and containers everywhere you looked.

One bottle rolled clear into the neighbor’s yard

All the way at the bottom of the cul-de-sac.

It was beautiful.

Don’t wait! Get your human off the couch now.

I hear the cicadas are here for a limited time

So, get outside and get your fill!

You know I am.

So, look for me the next time

When you are out

Walking your human!

Hour 2: The Joy of Unseen Things

Love, that swells the heart to the point of bursting,  yet never breaks,  only fills

Trust,  both given and received,  knowing a person’s heart as closely as your own

Hope, that radiates intentions of a better tomorrow,  that the next generation will do better than the last

Faith,  that something exists beyond this realm,  we are not alone

Peace,  balance,  wholeness,  everything is as it should be

Seasick

POEM 02

Reflected in the glass of the observation deck, it was like a fire on the horizon. That setting sun spoke all of my dread. A storm threatened in the clouds above the

vessel. They looked like crooked rows in a plowed field, yet dark and golden. Will this storm at sea bring a new fear in me? After all I was promised contentment, a oneness

with the watery world. Will the burgeoning night cover the ominous view?

I slipped away to let my fear seep from me, if it would, to let it drown in dark waters. Oh to see land again, to smell the earth.

My dinner started to rise, my head swam for shore. All the glass, the clear icy glass around me doubling the sight of the mounting waves. In all the warmth of the Caribbean, a chill gripped me in its frigid hold.

A flash of lightening zigzagged the navy sky. One, two, three, four a rumble of thunder shakes in the distance. The ship slices throw the black waters sprinting away

from the tempest.

A deck for observing is no solace as the wind is rocking the boat like a cradle. My insides lurch upward again. I stumble back into his arms, his comfort. He presses

two small pills into my palm. This was his idea, cruising away from it all.

Ahh how beautiful are the remains of the setting sun seen through a calming, narcotic haze.

 

Coffee and Change

Midnight cups

Around the clock

Talking about

How it was

How it is

How it’ll all be behind us

One day

Between sips

Of night

And French Vanilla cream