Long For Most Prompt (Hour 21)
Folds of sheets nestled around tired legs,
the soft press of mattress against the back
Neck at rest upon two pillows
Cold darkness, enough to necessitate blankets,
enough to sleep through the daylight.
Prompt 21: No More Coffee
I might brew a cup of tea,
if I can remember to pull the kettle off the fire
before its hissing wakes up my sleeping boyfriend.
Or, I might nurse this glass of wine
as I listen to the new Bob Dylan
and try to resist the urge to catnap.
All the times I hit snooze on a Monday morning
tells me only disappointment that way lies.
So I stay seated, at attention, as I have at this desk
all day, and the two lights – desk and kitchen counter – I’ll finally switch off
in four hours to crawl into bed.
Half Marathon My Hour 6
I ended up looking back and using the prompt from hour nine. I used the words firefly, bottle, heat, treeline, and lethargy.
Summer
My body feels the season changing
The heat making me become lethargic
Wanting to slow down and enjoy the day
As the evening comes I watch the treeline
Look for a moment to be on fire
The sun setting behind them causing a blaze
Soon the sun is gone letting the fireflies shine
Drink bottles become firefly homes
Confusion
Why do we all fight
Over who is wrong and who is right
?
Why do we find something to pick apart
Are we dooming ourselves from the very start
?
Was life ever normal
Or were we just a victim to it all
?
Will we ever know peace and cooperation
Shutdown every hatred station
?
Life is short, but we make it unbearable
I want people to think before they speak, it’s that simple
Forgive Me, Muse
Forgive Me, Muse
Bless me, Muse
for I have sinned.
I intentionally
misplaced 4 commas
7 times,
stole an entire line
from Shakespeare
(like he’d know),
resorted to using
2 adverbs
and 3 clichés,
rewrote Frost’s
most famous poem
(I like mine better).
I defied Webster
80 times last week,
and I lied
in every poem
I’ve written this year,
and last year,
and all the years
before.
I confess
I regret
none of it.
Still,
forgive me, Muse.
~ J R Turek
June 28, 2020
Hour 21
Sleep — Hour 21
Drown me under the ceiling fan
in my lumpy bed
dear to me
familiar
turn out the light
I’m ready for 14
my brain toasted like a fruit strudel
oozing fluid unusable
pen me up
folks
It’s a quality control issue
okay?
Longings
Since life does not consist of what you eat or drink
I have always longed
to help others
to be light in the dark
to illuminate the park
to be the head
to move ahead
to be heard as an acclaimed published author
Those are my longings
Your being, Your Everything
What I want is simple.
For you to love me
As I love you.
For your grace to embrace
My very being.
For your light to cut through
The hate of this world.
What I want is your everything.
To be able to consume all that you are made of.
Your light, your darkness.
Let me never recover from this drunkenness.
For you are my intoxication.
Hour 21: Longing
I have wanted you to belong to me, like no other prayer prior
Some higher power, laughs at my refusal
To pray for you then
To ask for you, beg for you
How could any divinity make you mine?
When we are already both one?
Hour 21: Desperate Longing
Desperate Longing
I long for blessed slumber
The softness of my bed
I long to go to dreamland
And rest my weary head.
I long to snuggle under blankets
Give in to sleep with a sigh
I long to hibernate right now
And close my gritty eyes.