The Poetry Marathon

Too Much

Too loud
Too disruptive
It wasn’t even my fault
But I was sent into the hall anyway
With my friend
It was totally her fault
You need friends like this
in your life
in elementary school
in your neighborhood
Someone who always ups the ante
brings an edge to the plain
spice to the salt

Too loud
Too disruptive
Continues in the hallway
It was becoming my fault
the balance of blame shifting
quickly becoming more than I can control
The other grade five teacher
comes into the hallway to turn red
to yell
at us
at me
when it wasn’t my fault,
but it is now.

“You’re acting like you’re this big.”
he screams in my face.
finger and thumb an inch apart
tomato red face that reaches into thinning blond hair
“So what?” I scream back at him
teeth barred
uncaring of the disrespect
the fun disintegrates on the hallway floor.

My friend freezes,
somehow makes herself smaller.
I will never convince
any of them
this wasn’t my fault.

Pigs

This is hilarious!
Look how she’s reacting to nothing.
What did we do?

1. Send a 70s playlist to her phone
2. Mess with her radio station
3. Follow her on Twitter in his name

And now she thinks he wants to marry her!

This is too easy.
She’s onto us.
Yes, she is.

Dude, this is so cruel,
leading this poor old, lonely woman
toward yet another unrequited love.

But it’s hilarious!
Oh, my god, she’s writing him
a love letter in her website!
No, she doesn’t mention his name.

You know, we could use this!
See if you can book a hall
somewhere for some tech event.
AI or something.

Offer her a free ticket.
She’ll come. Yes, she will.

If we build it, she will come!
F’in perfect!

Do you think we can book him?
Awesome!

It’s beyond the budget,
but I can make it fly.

She’ll approach him like she did Mr. B,
and we swoop in with a stalking charge.

He has no choice!
None.

God, this is freakin’ brilliant!

Poem for Hour Fifteen (15/24)

Argus Pheasant said to Peacock, “I can dance better than you,”

Peacock said back, with a tone of attack, “Well when it comes to pizazz,

I think that’s what you lack!”

 

Pheasant got mad and Peacock did too,

So the both of them did,

What they both usually do!

 

Peacock fanned out his tail in a great, wide array,

The sun making each feather shine,

Pheasant looked miffed at the gaudy display,

And started threatening Peacock right back!

 

Pheasant bowed very low,

Reared his tail up real slow,

And flashed his wings in a beautiful ring,

Creating a taupe-colored halo,

The two a clash of feathers,

and flapping of wings.

 

A hen watched from afar,

Lost for what to say,

Beak held ajar,

Took her best friends to have fun,

‘Cause who wants to deal with that, anyway?

“Looks Can Be, Well..”

Hour Fifteen: Prompt:  When confronted by a stranger, and perhaps her perspective.

I am ticked off! Why does she look so cool and comfortable in this heat on this delayed train!

So, I picked on the cool composed one.

I felt like it. Annoyance bloomed in me, and I felt safe.

Anyway, she didn’t look dangerous.

She looked relatively docile and when she didn’t answer me, I went ballistic. Others laughed, so I left the train too embarrassed to say sorry. DMW

Commando (prompt 15)

she looks at my motorcycle
drags her cigarette
and says “no fucking way”

it takes some convincing til
she makes me look away
as she swings her leg over the back

explains, she isn’t wearing panties today

gasping excitement into my neck
unaware that I’m getting close to
my new apartment

she taps my thigh and leans in
somehow whispers over the engine
“turn right here”

devastated, I thought she was a sure thing

she dismounts and peels off her jacket
asks if I’m good at scaling walls
what kind of question is that?

I watch her skillfully climb 8 feet of brick
like a cat leaping in one fluid motion
unbothered by chunky boots

she is definitely not wearing panties

her friend is out of town
the summer moon drips sweat
she sheds the remainder of her clothes

without a word she throws herself
into this private backyard pool
glittering siren beckons me to follow

she was known for being unexpected and easy to remember

Reoccurring

cw: none

When they came back –
the same gentle hands
that did not hurt.
They came back.
The canary expected
to bleed words for them.
But the hands were
still gentle,
and instead of vellum flowers,
it was fed birdseed.
Its stomach didn’t hurt.
The gentle hands left again –
but, even though it was foolish…
the canary hoped.

What Love Is

What Love Is:

 

watching him walk down

fingers entwined with her, lost

but only in her

eyes as she clutches the white

bouquet that means forever

Hour 3: My encounter with a Drunkard

POV of the drunkard

My spirits were high within and without
Walking on stars was I
Minding my business, keeping to the sidewalk
An old wrinkled hand pulled me by my collar
Crashed me to the ground.
I slowly rose up
Studiously ignoring his helping hands.
I snarled at him, ” Ya old geezer!
Whaddaya mean bashin’ me about?”
Smiling at me the old brute said,
” Go home, young man, sleep it off”
Sober was I as judge and slowly sauntered off

5pm. Poem 15. Out of Little George’s Eyes (a tanka)

5pm. Poem 15.

Out of Little George’s Eyes (a tanka)

Tears at your wedding
were not of joy but sadness
that another man
stood next to you and promised
love for the rest of your lives.

Barley McBones

he is small

he is large

he will protect you

he will love you

he will bathe in the sun

he will burrow under the covers

he will walk forever into the sunset

he will walk across the street and turn around

he is large

he is small

he is my favorite

he is chihuahua

and i love him