The Poetry Marathon

We Believe – #2

we believe in the good
how it fills us with happiness
refusing to believe in the bad
because it’s overwhelmingly sad

we believe in the caring
how it should be shared with all
refusing to believe in the ugliness
because it’s full of unforgiveness

we believe in the love
how it comes from those around us
refusing to believe in the hurt
because life is just too short

we believe in the world
how it continues to survive
refusing to believe in the end
because we’ll never give up

Let’s Get It On (Hour Seven, A Diamante)

Let’s Get It On!

 

MAKING LOVE

sensual, romantic

kissing, caressing, cuddling

intimacy, unitychemistry, lust

moaning, groping, thrusting

detached, animalistic

HAVING SEX

 

(A diamante is composed of seven lines. Lines one and seven must be completely opposite in meaning, and are typically one word nouns — although I chose to use phrases representing concepts instead. Line two is made up of two adjectives which clearly refer to line one, and, in line six, use two adjectives which obviously describe line seven. Line three will be made up of three -ing verbs which again refer back to line one, and with line five, repeat this same pattern in regards to line seven. Line four, the central focus, is the unification of the two opposite nouns/concepts, and is composed of two nouns related to line one, followed by two nouns related to line seven.)

Prompt 14 Hour 14. Faithchep.

SHE IS FOREVER.

Evenwhen you are lost

She will still find you

In your darkest day

She will crawl back

Wrap around you

And I a firm grip

She will still be yours

Even into rejection

You will have to face her

Fierce or in fear

Of what she is

What she is made of

She will be your own

By family and blood

To love and to cherish

A memory forever

Mothers Gone to Garden

This is how you sow the seeds.

Is it the tender loving care? Really?

Why did you have to leave so soon.  I truly wish that I had known.

Made bitter by the fact. My momma left like that.

Daughters, we

Learn, to tend the darker things

To weed.  Garden till you’re feeling grounded.

So the pests ~

They won’t fester

Would you, as an angel

Always cry, roses and rain. Have to smile. A lovely gift.

Mother.

To no one else, but me

Them memories, last forever

Long ago, seemingly

After all.  I am my mother’s daughter.

Am, till I too am called

Gone to garden

 

 

* Robin Wall Kimerer Quote: done golden nugget style

 

 

 

Prompt 14: “The land knows you, even when you are lost.”

After we cross the river, past one of the electric company’s plants
and the tombstones of industry – rusted rail cars banked to disused tracks,
a morgue of old trailers in the lot of the Super Flea –
the winding road is walled on one side with lush overgrowth of different shapes
and heights of green.

Higher, on the hill over the road,
over which the depth offers no outlook,
the trees would be perfect to hide a
modern structure, a new tiny home truly
on the edge of the city.

The lower banks are covered
in tight clusters of short trees whose
tropical green leafage stands in relief
to the cement and corroded iron.

The scene is nothing spectacular.
The area invites no horticulturalists to explore
the divide between urban structures and the plants that will overtake them
one day.

One day, we may leave and come back.
Maybe the trees will have been allowed to
push out the machinery, turn the rail yards into green houses,
reconcile the residents with a part of living taken for granted
even while it flourishes without notice.

(Hour 14) 11.30am-12.30pm. PROMPT: Use quote to jump off.

the land too, is lost

papa would often say
the land always knows you
even when you are lost
it was part of the great
organic being who takes
care of us if we care for it

since the invasion
i no longer believe
in the land, she is hurt
as badly as we are
we are almost
completely gone

soon so will she

Goat Colleague

His name tag said he was a goat

He carried a conference tote

the horns on his head

gave me feelings of dread

but he said, I’ll see you at the bar!

Hour 14: “Those who take care of us”

The Mother and her songs
rise through the dirt
red heads who light the way

The Mother and her songs
collaborate on a garden
and a deep drumming heartbeat

The Mother and her songs
talk to the sky and stars
roots ripening feed even those undeserved

The Mother and her songs
can only give
can only give

Skin Food

Where, thanks to the Sun

my skin is paper-thin,

I submerge myself in nature blessing.

Portia’s hand steadies mine as

calendula is applied sparingly.

International, ancient, remedy

devised long before my ancestors

stopped painting themselves blue.

I drop down deeply into a part of me

Only another ancient can be part of this process.

Each time I drop down through

I remove from myself another layer

Drop down through another place

I can forget

Stripping though the dermis

until I am left with my skin, paper-thin

and a kind hand to smooth into life’s

dust jacket, skin food

H.14 – Spiritearth

I have always belonged to the wild,

my legs seeking the solitude of long

grasses and bracken ferns, the queitness

of a forest full birds singing, the touch

of bark as I brushed against the landscape.

My eyes have never seen anything more

honest than the leaf, felt such strength,

such hope between my fingers. This

place is love, the smell of love, I feel it

seeping in. filling the empty places

left from town living, from to many

people, from a prison of expectation,

more and more, I shrink there my

mind brimming with nonsance, with

fear, so every morning l rise and go

home to the forest, to her songs

for my heart has always known

how to speak tree, how to taste

love, and my body knows how to

belong, for here l soar like a bird,