The Poetry Marathon

I had my quill,

And also my parchment.

And I put all my ideas

In my parchment

And saved to my brain.

Making every eye

Have a sight.

And every ear

To listen.

So that every tongue,

Can have a taste of my poetry.

But out of the blue,

I lost my parchment

And only had my quill

Who was jilted.

Thinking that all my dreams

Have been shattered,

I had relinquished.

Because I knew everything has been written

And thought of before

The difficulty is to think

And write on it again.

And I never made use of that quill

Till now,

When I have found

And spouse for it.

 

Need you

Like how a heart needs a beat.

And a sentence needs words to be complete.

Like how a lock needs a key.

And a ship needs the sea.

 

That is how I need you.

Without you, I don’t know what I’d do.

You like the peanut butter to my bread,

And the brains that goes inside my head.

 

You know when I’m happy and when I’m sad.

Or when I’m disappointed and when I’m mad.

You always there to wipe my tears.

And cuddle me at night, to take away my fears.

 

You walk along side me during my toughest times.

You are my number one partner in crime.

You’ll forever remain in my heart.

Even during the times that we are apart.

 

I just wanted you to know this

Because this one is for you, Chris.

In the beginning was the Word

In the beginning was the Word

 

In times of death, you wonder what you did to upset

the God above. Should you retrace your frail steps back,

beginning where you failed, taking you to birth, where silence

was your only cry? Graveyards filled by the hundreds today,

the forgotten bones all groaning, knowing only one

Word could erase death, could console a broken soul.

Hour 12 (2020)

One afternoon the last week in April*

I sat and watched a flourescent world unfold outside a bus window

it was the world I lived in, yet it was unfamiliar to the shaken husk of a person

piloting my body into my apartment under my sheets

and into another night of anxious torment.

soon the violent poltergeists of trauma pounded mercilessly into my sensibility,

a frail and precious creature just learning to walk,

until it was reduced to Hello’s, Goodbye’s, and How are you’s,

incapable of telling one from the others.

This fatal cycle took hold from that afternoon in the last week in April until a morning in the last week of July

It was then that my sensibility had recovered and I rose a new woman:

naked like the day I was born yet plenty more scarred

ready to return to the flourescent world to which I belonged

 

 

 

*first line from Axe Handles, Gary Snyder

 

The worst of the best (prompt 12)

It was the best

You were the best

But the worst was that time

You broke the cat’s back,

When you rushed off,

Tires screeching, to leave me,

You didn’t see the cat in the wheel well,

Nor felt the crunch I heard,

All remaining, bones, blood and tears,

That was the worst.

Time heals some things.

 

Journey

JOURNEY

__________________________________

When we walk

The arch of my hips

Collides with yours

The length of my legs

Shorten your stride

Yet you always delight in the collision

You slow to match your step to mine

***

Whether my mind is streaking

Across the sky

or at sunny ease

You keep me company

***

When I move from interest to interest

A bumblebee curiosity drunk on pollen

You hold each one with care

Marvel as though it was rare

***

When we find the home we built

Can’t hold our combined becoming

You cheerfully build

Anew

A place big enough for me and you

***

When the pieces are scattered

The puzzle obscured

You bring play and patience

To form a picture

That makes sure no piece is missing

***

To journey with you

Is to wander

Knowing

That we are always growing

That the first words on your lips

When we find something new

Will be

“This too”

“I love this too”

 

Prompt 12: Traveler

I always wanted to be a wandering traveler going to distant places and meeting new faces. Going to nations and places that I never been before. Eating some great food and seeing places that were aged by creation and mankind. And when or if I go to places and travel the world and see different nations, I would surely have more gratitude.

Journey

The fool beckons

Standing upon a precipice

Ready to leap

Confident in the fickle wind

 

To catch their outstretched arms

 

Gravity demands that its laws be observed

 

Hopping among altocumulus like stepping stones

Dancing through cumulous

 

Peals of laughter swirling in eddies

Leaving whispy cirrus trails in their wake

The fool mocks logic

 

They spin storm clouds into a garment

Pin lightning in their tresses

Adorn themselves in stars

And delight in the ethereal

 

 

The Whole Story! 12th Hour prompt – kjkidder

For weeks, Gigi’s roommate paced the floor

“You are really stressing me friend,

I can’t take it anymore.

Dinah, this may be the end.”

Gigi left and came back three days later.

Dinah was pacing faster.

The questions poured out

Both got loud and began to shout

and Dinah left the room

“What’s wrong with you, Dinah?”

Gigi heard music from the kitchen

another voice called out, “Listen!”

“Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah.”

“There’s a few in the kitchen, you know.”

“Wait! I’ll tell you,”

“They’re drinking a whole pot of Joe.”

“Somebody better tell me the whole story!”

 

(“I’ll tell you the whole story in a few days.” Excerpt from DEAD SEA RISING by Jerry Jenkins)

 

 

 

 

 

A little eye rubished

“What do you bet?” said my consciesness to me,

like I don’t get the idea of what to do on spare time,

remembering the clay before melted, when it was a bunny,

swan, bat, fox or any other cliché animal portrayed in beauty.

Smokes and haze from times that were eaten by forgetful regrets

are just lurking out from sound of the cartilage within

ages are used as stain and drain out like chalk scraps floating.

Therefore a moment is used to catch all that without a photograph

“Why you’re so sensitive? Could you be much more of a robot?”

replied the man from the past without knowing he’ll kill my core

as I dried something from a human echoes said in the back “Keep it still”,

opening his disregard upon me something seal it,

the eyes wide unlocked and extent by it sight are now lagoons,

don’t worry, behind the lacrimal courtains there is a life