The Poetry Marathon

2020 Hour #10: Dirty Little Secret

2020 Hour #10:  Dirty Little Secret

 

I’m going to tell you a secret-

I don’t mind being locked down during the pandemic

I was made for just this type of isolation

Shaped small enough to fit in this confinement.

 

I am in no hurry to get back to the world

That I lived for so long and well without

Maneuvering myself around others

Mastering the art of hiding in plain sight.

 

I already did most things by myself

I never pined for constant connection

Taking it only where convenient

Or necessary.

 

The art of the solitary

Is the discipline of not minding

Being alone.

Moon Shadows

Life is full of losses.
Nobody warns you.
You learn,
one loss at a time.

I could lose my eyes,
my legs,
my mouth,
but I’m not as cavalier about it
as Cat Stevens. He doesn’t say
that what you really lose
with each of these losses
is your independence.

Some losses are necessary,
like innocence,
or inevitable,
like virginity.

Some people never lose
gullibility.
Politicians and salespeople count on it.

We lose our looks,
plastic surgery notwithstanding.
It’s good to have character as a backup.

We lose lovers, parents, friends,
and we cope.

We lose children,
a loss I can’t even imagine,

and memories,
a loss worse than death.

When memories are gone,
do we welcome loss of life?
No one can tell us this,
or what lies on the other side.

Like all the lessons of loss,
it requires experience,
a step into the afterlife.
Maybe it isn’t loss at all.

Hour 10: Moonshadowdance

Within the patterns of the night

I pull the shawl of soft moonlight

about my shoulders and take my place

to dance the barefoot steps of grace.

My feet are sure enough to hold

me through the years of growing old,

my hands are able to reach out

whenever I am filled with doubt.

My ears can hear the gentle tune

that draws me in to dance the moon,

my mouth can shape the ancient song

that calls my soul to sing along.

From light to shadow and back again,

I dance the steps I learned back when

I was a child, and watched the moon

pour its light into my room,

calling me out to dance the night

of patterned shadows and welcoming light.

Hour 10: Moonshadow Response

shadows
all afternoon here 
now a butterfly too

no hands no eyes no legs no mouth moonshadow

most days
this shadow calls on me 
but she never overstays 

it did not take long
for the shadow to find me
library books





  

baby bird has flown the nest

north, south, east, west

no one knows

which was best

everyone’s looking

skies are grey

it’s been gone

many a day

we hope

we pray

not a robin

not a jay

baby cockateil’s

gone away.

 

 

Moon Shadow

In the night, the lake is a

bottomless mirror, a celebration

with fireworks and beer. A ride

in the back of a friend’s jeep,

bumping along a potholed logging

road at a high speed. Stoned on weed,

a sore spot on my breastbone had me

suddenly certain I had cancer. I wanted

our friend to turn around, go back to

our truck with the spare, our camper

parked beneath a canopy of cedars.

But the whir of the engine was loud.

Panic had me certain Dad would find

out and I’d be in bad trouble. His abuse

had to stop, to glory in freedom from control

was all I desired. Instead, we continued

to drive on through the eclipsed night,

the light of the moon tossing twisted shapes

across the road that haunt me still.

 

 

 

Its There. (Poem 10)

One dark night

I saw it’s red eyes

Why? I do not care

If i did, the darkness would reach for me

Whether I run, walk, it will claim my soul

It knows of things I have yet to be done

To love, cry or being sinful

Seeking thy undone

Until the day I’m shunned

Offerings

Offerings

I was a boy of too many blurred visions.
You came just in time, picked and
dusted me into a paradise where words
are ripe roses too beautiful to walk past
without halting to give hallelujah to the artist.

The world would have made a bowl
of mesh meal from my bones
if not you, defying distances to teach me
how to be human. How would I have grown?

That other day, for instance, when my demons
confined me into exile, you welcomed me
to the world proper. You think you did so little,
but it’s engraved in my head that even after now,
I do not want your place to be vacant in my world.

And now that darkness surrounds you,
you do not have to worry anymore.
Just hold unto me. Both of us are enough
to torch our paths to survival.

Even if I have to carry you, the way you did,
do not worry. You’d have your back broken,
eyes far-flung from their sockets
to walk me into safety with songs of light.

Hour 10 — Moonshadow

Beth A. Fleisher

Hour 10

 

Prompt 10: Listen to Moonshadow by Cat Stevens. Write a poem as soon as the song ends.

 

 

Moonshadow

 

Grandma Moon

follows me

shining her light

all around me

protecting me

guiding me.

Free as a child I am

Leapin’ and hoppin’

On a moonshadow,

Moonshadow, moonshadow,

Moonshadow.

 

What to write…..

I have no idea about what to write.

My body doesn’t function properly at night.

My eyes feel heavy and tired

And if this is how my brain works, I think it should be fired.

 

I could just curl up and sleep.

But then I won’t complete the marathon and that will make me weep.

It’s 10 minutes past half past twelve

And I’m still sitting here feeling sorry for myself.

 

Only, like, a few words on the page.

This frustrates me and fills me with rage.

I’m literally scribbling anything that comes to mind.

Because time is something tough to find.

 

I think I’m falling asleep with my eyes open

While trying to write words that I feel should be spoken.

 

So, yeah, this poem is going to turn out terrible.

But, hopefully, it will be slightly bearable.

And I apologize if it doesn’t make sense

But right now I’m not living in the present tense.

 

My brain has turned into foam

Just from writing this poem.

 

Oh, and did I mention that my legs are experiencing severe cramps?

Well that’s all for this hour, champs!