The Poetry Marathon

Guardian of the Heart – Hour #6

Oh, Oaken Sentinel,  you alone know the secret of the heart

carved so deep within your craggy flesh.

As the blade cut into you,

did you feel the heartache for a love that would not be?

Was the pain assuaged by the passion you felt from his unrequited love?

Or were those cuts sculpted slowly with lovers’ hands held one upon the other

guiding the perfection of their loving signature?

We will never know the secret you hold so close to your heart

yet, it will live on for centuries, growing in mystery, growing in love.

Will other lovers choose you to guard their tales of romance or heartbreak?

Oh, Steadfast Oak, you above all others can be trusted to never waiver in this sacred calling.

Day Idyllic – hour 6, prompt 6

Ideal, a favorite sushi place

mango, crab and rice to taste

peach mochi melts on my tongue

quesadillas, shrimp and queso food

cheesesteaks blaze my heart and mood.

Sitting home, green things I spy

scaly, soft, with cunning eyes

munching crickets I supply

joy comes easy when they play

and let me pet them all the day.

Smell of flowers in a garden

gives my weary heart a pardon

colors bright green, mauve and blue

set my eyes on fire too

mistfall on a morning walk

hearing noises in the park

just the crickets, a doggy bark

makes my soul jump all a-jerk.

Kissing, hugging during movie

with my love, it makes me boogie

a favorite tune, we jump and dance

around the living room with our pets

like to treat each other too

cooking when we’re in the mood

for salty, sweet or sour food.

Just a happy little giggle

when child’s piggies I will tickle

my heart jumps to see them smile

when they attempt to stand awhile

something new, always a pleasure

paint with yogurt, ice cubes colored

banging toys, making clutter

baby’s love makes life matter.

– Sandra Johnson

 

 

Hour 6, Prompt 6 – Let Me Be

Just for today

let me be

a roaming purr hunting 

through a nest of buttery softness

incited only by the idea of being

bitten by something 

acidic and confectionary

to sweeten the petition

on my lips:

 

May words bloom flowers

May a honeyed tenor lull the afternoon

May Baldwin preach artistry

May Nina know how it feels to be free

May Billie’s summer fruit be forever familiar and sweet

May dreams come true

 

Let this silk robe

this porch-side paradise be all there is 

as unknown insects quiver in the noontide

 

Let the dense milky clouds break 

spilling golden yolk

beautifully over all of it

 

Just for today

Let me be

Hour 6 (2020)

Stumbling through the city

uncovering urban treasures

seeking refuge in its green enclaves

taking in its scents

weaving in and out of crowds

observing stills and denizens in motion.

skin is brushed, aired out, painted, smirched with food:

a quilt of the days experiences

lingering for a moment as i lay to rest

2020 Poetry Marathon, Hour 6

Started this one, then got distracted. Back in the nick of time!

Hour 6 prompt: Write about your ideal day using only imagery and sensory details.

(more…)

6 – How To Spend Today; A Song

Waking up to watch the sunrise on the mountain,

With my blanket wrapped around me tight, and a thermos to hold

Playing music for the people gathered ’round to watch the planet turning

Endless reasons to sing

 

Some moments live as long as my heart beats

I will keep this memory with me

 

Share a smile, share a story, share your time

We can chase each other through the woods and find a sturdy tree to climb

From up here, my weary world and all it’s problems disappear

 

Some moments live as long as my heart beats

I will keep this memory with me

 

Words

Staring up at the ceiling,
And listening to the silence as the words spiral down into me,
Like an episode after an evening smoke.
These words have become a part of you,
To the point where you bleed syllables and utter metaphors.
Inject a needle into your veins and withdraw poetry.

You survived,
You survived the harsh words thrown at you in middle school,
Became a martyr as you were stoned by the same words you loved.
Felt each sentence slice your skin and have your mind bleed endless characters.
So much so that when you do it with your razor it almost feels euphoric.
I guess what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Getting lost in pages of vowels and adjectives,
Falling for characters,
Because you failed to fall for human beings,
As their speech patterns are flawed
They do not speak the language of these words that have embedded themselves in your system.
So as perfection courses through your veins,
Imperfection seeps from your pores and lies above your skin.

So you will stare at your ceiling,
Watch the words create the loudest of sounds in the silence,
As they spiral all around your room.
And finally, rest in your mind.
As you fall asleep.

Perfection (hour 6, prompt 6)

The warmth of the sun
Behind rainbow shades
A gentle breeze blowing
My hair in my face
The scent of the water
Pure home on the air
Why, if I just close my eyes,
I’d be right there
In a chair on the beach
Soft sand in my toes
With the great lakes before me
An ideal day back home.
~Mandy Kocsis©2020~

Ideal Day Prompt 6

Ideal Day

 

Aroma nudges my nose and I roll over, 

stretch arms and legs, reach out 

feeling muscles twitch. On my feet, 

I pour, mix and stir. Steam wafts, 

tickling my nose, warmth down my throat 

into my mid-section. I dress and pull clothes 

over my head pressing my hair to my scalp, 

encase my feet in socks and shoes. 

cool leather chair, close my eyes, 

I walk through the door into sunshine 

and head toward the bridge, 

feel the concrete sidewalk under my feet, 

nod at people I meet, words in my ears. 

Up and down in sun and shade eventually

returning home, fingertips pressing buttons. 

I revel in warm water flowing through my hair 

and over my body then the texture of a soft towel,

pull dry clothes over me. I sit in the slide into myself,

a buzz breaks my silence 

and I offer prayers for my people. 

I open the doors and cold air rushes out, 

pick items and taste the sweetness of grapes 

and pull in some sticky peanut butter. 

I close the door and open the notebook. 

My people come to life again on the page.

The sun fades into evening.

I taste what you have provided, we read

and then I slip into nothingness.

 

Better Days

 

Ah the richness wafting by my nose, food and drink springing me to my toes
Echos of lively chatter, so many deep and profound thoughts to pose
Hugged by a cool spring breeze to tickle hairs on our arms
Such laughter, remembering days past and simple childish charms
Hands pressing a brush down a canvas splashed with memories in color
Children running past playing hide and seek as they holler
Ocean rumbles to remind us of a force vastly more powerful than us
Reminders of better days to come – enjoy the now and spurn the fuss