The Poetry Marathon

Prompt 13: Activity

Adulthood – Hour 12

So, you’re an adult now
All the years past have led you to this moment
Congratulations
Now here’s the million other things you need to do
To have a meaningful and happy life
Don’t panic
You have plenty of time
But there’s no time to waste
You can’t mess up now
Your training wheels have been taken off
But it’s okay to make mistakes now and then
Just make sure to bounce back like a champion
You have to be independent now
No longer in the nest
But make lots of friends that can boost your climb
Only geniuses can go this alone
But don’t be too trusting
You never know who might have sinister agendas
You’ll learn with time
But make sure to learn quickly
Yes, this is just the beginning.

Hour 13 — Mental Health Walks

Beth A. Fleisher

Hour 13

 

Prompt:  Write a poem about a physical activity you do all the time. It could be something mundane and chore related, such as brushing your teeth or mowing the lawn, or it could be something you do for fun, or for your health, like running or swimming. The poem can be about more than that physical activity, but it must start and end with it.

 

Mental Health Walks

 

Sheltering at home

sounds so benign

until you realize

what it means.

No going out

no company coming in.

Four walls, two cats,

and cabin fever.

 

We aren’t supposed to

leave our apartment complex

so every day, twice a day,

I take a mental health walk

around our thankfully large

parking lot, which is bordered

by lovely tall fir, cedar, and pine trees,

home to many kinds of friendly wildlife.

 

Squirrels jump from branch to branch,

crows caw out their displeasure

(or pleasure, hard to tell which),

and blue jays swoop in front of me.

I’m reminded that I’m never alone

unless I choose not to see that

Creator sends unlikely friends

to visit on my mental health walks.

 

 

I wanna

Hip, Hop.

I jump and almost drop.

I wanna watch things that I have not in a long time.

Things like cartoons where the simple theme is overshadowed by something bigger.

I wanna do a bunch although my mind goes somewhere else.

Hip, Hop.

I jump and almost drop.

 

steps to daily beauty

Take a deep breath,

drink water, brush teeth,

splash face with warm water,

try not to cry,

use Pond’s Cold Cream generously,

slather it thick, wash it off,

remember you have short hours

and shorter years.

Cry again, rinse well,

don’t look in the mirror, grit your teeth,

and remember what society tells you,

that no matter how thin or stylish

or well-wrapped and packaged you are,

to the beast that gnaws on self confidence

you will never be good,

never be beautiful enough.

So rinse it all off, and repeat,

shave, moisturize, pluck and primp

until there’s nothing left

to pick.

Prompt #13: The Marathoner

Pick ‘em up.
Set ‘em down.
Got to keep going.
Can’t stop.
Don’t walk.
Clicking IPod button
Must find a faster song.
Repeat song.
Repeat song.
Pick ‘em up.
Set ‘em down.
Ugh, how many more miles do I have to go.
Keep going, the car is at the finish line.
No matter what you still have to get to the car.
Pick ‘em up.
Set ‘em down.
Pick ‘em up.
Set ‘em down.
Focus on the music.
That is it.
You are really lookin’ good now!
You are kickin’ it!
Pick ‘em up.
Set ‘em down.
FINISH LINE!
Stretch out your step,
That is it!
Pump the arms,
Stride it out!
OOOO I hear music!
There is cheering!
Of course, I ran the whole thing.
I am a BOSS!

Dune – Hour 11

I’ve dreamt of this moment
The hundreds of ways I would get here
From the day I gazed out the airplane window
Now I am finally here
At the highest point I stand
The sun blazing against my scalp
The glorious expanse in front of me
Waiting for me to jump into it
I take in a breath of the dry hot air
I look down at the path ahead of my
I let me right foot hover in space
And I let myself go
Rolling down a sand dune to its base
It was lit!

Hour 13 (2020)

early in the morning

when the first dogs and their owners grogilly patrol the streets

I wrap myself in a pitch-black flag and set out to taste the day

erratic laughter, dizzy skipping, twirling in the wind

freaking out the neighborhood;

planting a kiss on an old lady’s cheek

giddily gifting tulips

barking and howling at everyone and everything;

 

then stumbling back up my building’s stairway

hunting down the morning’s first cup of coffee

 

 

Poem 13 | {Breathing}

By Ajanta Judd All Rights Reserved – 11 am Australian EST

Prompt 13: Write a poem about a physical activity you do all the time. It could be something mundane and chore related, such as brushing your teeth or mowing the lawn, or it could be something you do for fun, or for your health, like running or swimming. The poem can be about more than that physical activity, but it must start and end with it.

_____________________________________________

{Breathing}

 

Breathing in great gulps of air, I’m now at the top of the cape

A meandering steep ascent of stunning beauty

How crisp and untainted the air is here

I pause and observe the slowing down of heart rate, of breath

and feel the strain of the climb subside.

Saying a big thank you to my autonomic nervous system

I ponder upon how we take it for granted this breathing business.

Countless breaths throughout a lifetime

a baby’s first wailing breath, the last gasp of the dying

the bookends of a life – the signifier of life

Internal to external – circulating, invigorating

I have now learnt that the average person at rest takes about 16 breaths per minute

We breathe about 960 breaths an hour, 23,040 breaths a day, 8,409,600 a year

A person who has lived a hundred years? 840,960,000 breaths…!

How marvellous is this?

I’m thinking now about the difference between shallow breathers and deep breathers

And those who practice pranic breathing, diaphragmatic breathing or, holotropic breathing.

What a crucial element to life itself. How essential it is to well-being!

Yet most of us live constricted and tense, the stress of everyday living taking its toll

Better make the most of it, cherish it and nourish it

Take the time not to restrict it, to exercise it, to respect it.

And as I look out over the cape to the expanse of Bass Strait,

I’m breathing and I don’t know where I end and the ocean begins.

 

 

Yoga.

“Be a lotus in the pond,” she said, “opening slowly, no single energy tugging against another but peacefully, all together.”

I couldn’t even touch my toes. “Feel your quadriceps stretching?” she asked.Well, something was certainly stretching.

Standing impressively upright,she raised one leg and placed it against the other, then lifted her arms and shook her hand like leaves. “Be a tree,” she said.

I lay on the floor, exhausted.

But to be a lotus in the pond opening slowly, and very slowly rising, that I could do.