The Poetry Marathon

H.9. – Dawn and Dusk

Dawn, scans the treeline,  searching

for dusk, the heat of noon hides him

behind a mask of light. The bottle in

Dawn’s  grip contains a magic porridge,

which once inside Dusks belly causes

lethargy, Dusk waits for Dawn, for the

game to begin within the his strange cottage

with shimmering walls of light a trap

waiting to become a cage. Dawn is clever

for she knows to win she must loose

becoming a firefly , she zooms though

a gap, a slither of shadow while Dusk

takes a nap, coating him in porridge and

pushing him out for the to end so the

morning  can come about.

 

 

Hour 9: Fretful Nights

 

The fretful night ushers

morning lethargy which hangs strange 

and heavy in this otherworldly reality

where the masks we wear bring us together 

and tear us apart

Over a Zoom we share a bottle of hope across screens

dream tomorrow when children catch fireflies 

in the summer heat

Hour 9: use these words

I droop through the lethargy of the afternoon Zoom

and stare out the window.

The heat rises above the treeline,

dancing like fireflies at sunset.

I find myself wondering:

would they notice if I shut my video

and muted my mic, leaving Zoom open

as I grabbed my water bottle and mask,

socially distancing myself to an imaginary

cottage in the trees?

Would that be strange?

Perhaps I could find a bowl of porridge

Waiting there, just for me.

The Girl with the Scar

Why care about the lies and the hate

Why shield the field of the desolate

Why lift the arms of the portrait

Why trace the fault in  the artifice

Where scars made with damaged bottles

Broke the heat off the misery

Why spell fate when it’s all fake

Why lay claim on goods of worthless deed

Why stretch hope on strange vessels

The mask did it course

It hid the art of it’s treeline shape and wanton size

No amount of frequency could do justice

As all hope to lead zoomed it’s faith at least

Why should we need choices when we have known

Why would they care when they scar not

Why should they stay when they hurt us

Living in the cottage with closed blinds

Damning the chains of facehunt

The girl with the scar lives on.

 

Cool Mood

Sat here, still,

rain pattering,

hands idle,

mind drifting,

cold coffee

a moment alone

and cold silence.

Fireflies in a Bottle

Earlier, the heat on the road

Made strange water that was gone

When we zoomed closer.

The air was like porridge

But the pool cured our lethargy.

Now the summer sun

Has at last given way

And crept below the treeline.

Fireflies caught in a bottle.

Two long years waiting

For this moment of bliss.

September is coming.

I let them go free.

 

Hour 9 – she

She may stab you with her sass.
She may pierce through your heart
With her thoughts and mind.
One gaze and she can ornament
Your soul with words that glitter;
One word and she will slay
Those words with her gaze!
She has learnt how to suffer.
She has learnt how to cure.
She may be ugly, impure;
Her soul may be dark, dirty;
Her mind – almost wounded crimson
Her thoughts – all bruised blue;
Her being suffocates purple everyday.
She almost dies every night.
She is perhaps an incarnation of the dark!
But she glitters and glows..
To every victim of the dark.
To some, victorious of the light.
To few, who’s crossed her way.

Prompt 9: For Edna St. Vincent Millay

I scrape my plate – Ron’s yam and salmon hash –
And read about Edna St. Vincent Millay,
Reckoning, in this strange time that a brash
Assertion of fragility would sail,
Nay, zoom, over the unfettered charmless
Who take for granted their unguarded selves
And pretend their every laugh is harmless –
Their lethargy of reason I wish delved
Past their own pleasures long enough to see
Greater hearts and minds have failed to endure.
The firefly and the heat easily
Gravitate, per Darwin, to each other.
Youth is wasted on the – oh never mind.
Let’s open a bottle and toast the blind.

9) Fading

Fading

dragging

eyes shuttering

body searching

for pillow,couch,

but all that’s within reach

is pen, notebook

and the computer screen

So pushing through

words on the page,

on the screen,

moths to the light

raindrops to the window

wind growling

On we go

word by word

Soon lullaby on

my pillow

until then

words

more words

and even

more

Broken

Every girl wants to find love that will last till the end of time.

Someone who will love them and someone they can call ‘ mine ‘.

Like every other girl, I wished for that too.

A love that is so pure and true.

 

And after what seemed like forever, I thought I found the one.

He was handsome, caring and fun.

I gave him everything I had to offer

Because I thought that he would be my first and only lover.

 

I was too blindly in love to see his true self.

I ignored what my friends said and their offer to help.

I put all my trust in him and our love,

Too young and stupid to look beyond and above.

 

Slowly, I took down my walls.

Until he went and crushed it all.

He betrayed me in every way possible.

Yet made me feel like I was the one responsible

For everything bad that happened to us,

Once again breaking my trust.

 

He left me in pieces; shattered and broken.

And till today the scars are still open.