The Poetry Marathon

Populist rules seen

known coverage of human activity

seen in the colors of norm

ways of human culture

marvels of human desires

still populist decision makers clashing at times

 

quarantine life existing

due to the epidemic of a corona virus

movement for order in the addressing a health concern

populist perspective based on scientific basis engraving

orders set for norm to be contained

life edges manifesting in the desire of human flesh

 

endangering yet developing for new solutions

possibility unending seen in the life edges

cornering time seen to marvel anew

 

Poem # 13

Prompt obsolete technology #5

remember bulky wired headphones
my how they have changed
-made you look like
teletubbies
-heavy
-huge, in the way
-wired, getting tangled with everything
-adapter to work on some things

then, really thin buttt still wired
-really light
-still always getting tangled
-annoying foamy head phone covers

ahhh wireless, now we’re talkin
-recharging box for them wow
-easily lost
-stuff in your ears like cotton

I wonder what they can do from there with headphones
can’t wait to find out or maybe I should be worried.

Crab Feast (8th Hour 2020)-acrostic poem

Maritime crustaceans making their way to our stomachs

As we crack a few shells and throw the filth in a bucket.

Ready and available, we summon the spices

You know, the butter, the old bay and any other that entices.

Lo and behold, do not forget about the citrus beer

A surmountable amount is always revered.

Never too much to pile on the broken legs

Demolishing those last is the only way.

Prompt 17: Mixed Tape

Mixed Tape

 

Some days without reason
I’m transported back
To the time of butterflies
Two weeks in Mexico
Waiting for night
To close out the world
Beyond discs of black padded foam
90 minutes of magnetic tape
It’s every note, it’s every word
Carefully curated
To tell me I’m yours
I wish I could remember
All the songs of our obsolescence

20~1

She finds me in my dreams…

We look for things together.

Not knowing what I’m looking for~

But feeling loved when waking…

 

Her house was my only safe space.

when i was very small…

I wasn’t even hers~

And yet, felt I belonged most of all…

 

Her blue desk was where she sat me.

Always with crayons to draw.

And on the floor from here to there~

Timeless toys did crawl.

 

I read all the books that she could find.

(the only time i could quiet my mind)

Forever smelling of roses, soapy scraps melt into one~

In her ancient tub covered with paper roses glued on.

 

All the cousins loved to come and play.

Took turns flipping on her antique bed.

Those same crayons colored eggs~

In her kitchen filled with laughter and games…

 

i miss her 

Prompt 17 Hour 17

---

CASSETTE TAPES.

We used to dance to classic songs
Pouring out in in sync with our moves
From the new cassette tapes
That big brother got from the city

We loved to listen to the songs
While singing along the lyrics
In our minds we had mastered
We thought it would have longevity

Old enough for night parties
We carried along our favorite tapes
With our friends to dance all night
New year’s and birthdays alike

Now we have no cassette tapes
They’re running out of fashion
Replaced by new forms
But our favorite music on stays

Prompt 17 ~ Post #17 ~ Little Red Box

We’d stand in this red metal box

to make a simple phone call.

No matter the time or the season

even freezing our all and all.

 

And if our love did not answer

we parted gloomy and blue.

For all, we wanted to tell them,

“I was thinking of you.”

 

But now times are like magic

the worlds at our beck and call.

Ahah with no pun intended

no gap, no worry at all.

 

To reach a love in seconds

unless they’ve been called away.

And set in their own little box

for eternity, where they will stay…

 

by Del Bates  💘💘

Fair Play

Now that the red mist has softened to a dew-scented kiss

Formed from the droplets of the same passion-condensed liquid,

Was there any other point to the carefully crafted conflict?

Fair and square the winner took the right to evict

Play, laughter and tenderness – leaving love derelict.

 

The Rewinding Motorcar

It was in the 90s, my father was rich and there for us

He travel on the weekdays but there he is on the weekends

He plays the Sunny Ade music from the new CDR he bought

Teaching us how to dance with our legs

The way Sunny the musician does

The tape stops , he frowns at it

Then he smiles, like the normal was just in briefs

He removed a red motor car from his pricey suitcase

He placed it on the ground and time us to gather around

He remove the cassette and places it in the boot of the shiny motorcar

Off it zoomed rewinding the tape

So that we could play and listen to the song with my Dad

Who loves dancing with his legs

Before the motorcar could rewind more cassette

The car blew up with the  house we stayed

I said Bye bye, the red rewinding motor car

Even though it’s now a raging inferno

Rewinding my memories of the past

 

 

Hour 17: My Brother’s Phonograph

My brother rambled about going back to therapy –
things my mother wanted to hear.
Then excitedly moved on to other topics,
maybe a job at the second-hand store,
and something else he’d found there.
He disappeared into another room,
carried it back with him,
glowing in the afternoon light, tulip-shaped, an angel’s trumpet
hand-painted with flowers, ruby enamel
beaten out of brass.  He wound the crank.
A scratching, spinning voice sang back at us .
We could hear the distance of 100 years,
And my brother cried.  He said it was just so beautiful.