An Inclusion and SeclusionTale

Taking the heat for not wearing a face mask, for not saving time in a bottle,

for problems transmitting Zoom to teens, using the virtual classroom model,

for sinking into the depths of a quarantine-induced, stay-at-home-lethargy,

for longing for once upon a time (three months ago) the way it use to be,

for not seeing beyond the treeline or adapting to things passing strange–

more than a few souls find it difficult to endure the psychological strain

as they find it hard to swallow an increasingly foul-tasting porridge

while stuck inside an isolated, sequestered, fractured-fairy tale cottage.

Thus, this sordid tale might end with either tears or heart-felt laughter,

so all God’s children will wake up to a tale of “happily ever after”!

Mindful Whispers

It is known that you want something in return,

like the microscopical crawling waves over the skin,

but when the strange bottle with fireflies arrive from dreams

the fade in the light like something masked

flies and mosquitos go around, breaking calm

guide to chicken broth, arise the table and damnation,

this is a large silence, poisoning the enviroment,

If you zoom to a treeline lethargy will get there

At the end there is still the heat of it.

 

5pm

Im not going to lie
Mothers day really hurts this time
You’re not here to celebrate it with

I can’t give you
flowers or a kiss
no cheesy card
or hand made gift.

all I can do
is just sit here and
reminisce
think about the times
I miss

Holding me when scared
Telling me I was strong
Hurting when I hurt
Disciplining me when needed

How I cried so much
when you left
I know it was your time
to be with Jesus
But I’m so jealous

It feels like everyday is
rainy weather

A Rustling in the Woods – Hour 9 Prompt

For my Emily Grace

 

In the heat of summer, a strange tiding brewed. Past the cottage, near the treeline where I camped, I heard a ghastly noise. The noise reminded me of a cross between a cat fight that was going wrong and a freight train, grinding its brakes to a screeching halt. At first, I was nervous and afraid of the noise. I tried to zoom my camera lens in on the area but all I could see was the outline of a face.

Becoming braver, I walked cautiously towards the face. Once there by it, I realized the face was instead a mask. But whose mask, I wondered? I decided to move my campsite to that area to see if anyone returned to claim the mask. Hours passed and I saw no one. I passed the time by catching a lone firefly in a bottle. This provided added light, along with the stars overhead, to help with seeing what may be lurking nearby. I ate a snack of porridge before exhaustion struck and I drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, a short time later, I was awakened by a rustling in the trees. I leaped from my sleeping bag, armed at the ready with a stick. Lethargy still filled my veins, however, and I fell in a pile. When I recovered, I noticed a fairy sitting before me.

“Did you make all that noise?” I asked.
“No. My master did.” she replied. “He summoned me to tell you that a great enlightenment is coming to you.”
“A great enlightenment?” I ask.
“Yes. All you must do is stay awake for forty-eight straight hours and you’ll be granted whatever you wish.”
“Whatever I wish?” I ask.
“Yes. So what do you wish?” asked the fairy.

I had to think about this for a moment. World peace or domination was out of the question. I really wanted a fine house and big yard for my family but that seemed greedy. Instead, I told the fairy, “I just want my daughter to grow up happy for all of her days.”

“That is a beautiful wish.” The fairy said. “All you need to do now is to stay awake for forty-eight hours.”

This challenge could not be that hard, right? Well, by the twenty-four hour mark, with no coffee running through my veins, the struggle to stay awake was real. For my daughter, however, as any mother would, I dug my toes in and held on. I took walks. I sang to myself. I counted stars in the sky. I did anything I could to stay awake because I would do anything for her.

After forty-eight hours. the fairy returned and waved her magic wand. Golden fairy dust covered me and suddenly a proclamation appeared that said my daughter, Emily, even if not without hardship, would find something good within her that would allow her to be happy all her days.

“Thank you.” I said to the fairy. “Just out of curiosity, who is your master that rustled in the woods?”
She said “I call him the Almighty One. He makes all things possible.”
“Thank him for me.” I asked.
“You do every day by being Emily’s Mom.” The fairy said as she flew off.

From that day forward, my child never knew tremendous heartache that she could not handle. Within Emily’s heart, she was always able to find some reason to be happy.

Season of the Introvert

A reliance heavily on self without the unwanted influence of others.

Careful with whom is granted access to her life.

Find her in the bookstore corner quietly skimming the markdowns.

See her in the grocery store shopping while listening to 90’s music through her air pods.

Catch her walking with a slight smile along the edges of the beach.

Watch her sit focused in a group while others wait for her to speak.

Her ability to restart and readjust her life defies defeat.

Known to only a few, a conscious choice she makes to contain her peace.

Introvert does not equate to shy; it is equivalent to the internal compass used to bypass

people’s bullshit.

2020 Marathon Hour 9 – Forever Your Surfboard

The little one clings my bare back,
The less-little one counts down from 3.
I jump, the gasp from above lets me know
for a moment, my smallest child’s
Smiling face touches the sky.

I spread my arms and splash into the water,
Plunging to the bottom like a doomed plane
I stay down long enough for my backpack-child to detach,
And float amidst myriad bubbles and four tiny limbs, 
A momentary elasmosaurus.

I surface, to high-pitched giggling and cheering,
the mark of any successful dive,
And I swim.  The little one latches onto me,
A trill and a tug as the elder does the same
I hold my legs steady, and let them ride.

As I pop my head up, draw in a gasp of breath
I hear the elder singing,  voice as thin as she is, as high as her spirit.
“Daddy’s my surfboard!  Daddy’s my surfboard!”
The smaller one joins in, with croaking harmony
And one disagreement “Daddy’s OWAH turfboard!”

I glide deeper, cutting off their nascent debate.
No one can argue underwater, not even sisters.
They hang onto me and eachother like joy trumps oxygen.
Their gleeful laughs fill the air as we breach,
And fill me more than any breath in my lungs.

Hour 9, Stranger Danger

*Use at least five of the following ten words in a single poem: strange, firefly, bottle, cottage, heat, mask, zoom, treeline, porridge, lethargy

Stranger Danger

Don’t pay the ferryman
in this fairytale
that strange one will carry
you to death.

A firefly in a bottle
may light up the wattle
of this odd cottage
but no heat from within will be spent.

Zoom in on the bears at the treeline
as they approach the cottage from afar:
don’t eat the porridge, or lethargy
will certainly lead to death.

A mask on a stranger
will not save you from danger,
hi-yo, silver coins for the ferryman
cannot avert tears of Lethe.

The Comfort of Fireflies

The comfort of fireflies

Housed in a brown-glass bottle

The fruits of labours spent over

A long day of laughter

Is soon forgotten,

Like the African mask keepsake

From a year’s past holiday,

In the face of a steaming

Bowl of porridge

Newly removed from the heat.

Poem #9

cottage blues

here i sit in this sweet little cottage
perfectly tucked away from the rest of the world
the lethargy will be evident by noon
from all the daytime meetings on zoom
so strange the firefly with his dull light
still wants to fly around the room
when the street is treelined on both sides
but he prefers the heat
inside my little room
and i don’t mind his company
as i make my morning porridge
he is the only one i will let in
without a mask

#9. Message in a Bottle

Up above the tree line
where the stars
like a firefly
conspire….
winking their long distance code…
There is a strange heat
from which glaciers melt
and permafrost dissolves.
Drink from this bottle of truth,
dear Alice.
You will shrink. Or grow.
(Or is that the magic mushroom?)
Either way,
this lethargy
will end.