The Poetry Marathon

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

A Perfect Day – Prompt 6

coffee with cinnamon

sunlight drowns the room

my favorite dress

no underwear

no shoes

Outside its quiet

I only hear the sound

of branches swaying

and the faint hum of wind chimes

I swing in the hammock

it carries me like a sunny womb

Then I remember

I left grapes in the freezer

Ripe and cold for my perfect day

In the sun I devour them like candy

 

 

 

 

Hour 6: Meeting by Chance

Bus stop, 180 degrees from the box office
glass and steel framed a waving, a smile.

Why not a sunset on an out-cropping
of eroded brown clay and gravel?
Nothing in the way of the Pacific,
the horizon fades to black.

We fade to gold in tequila
Lime green, glass frost
cracked in a blender
a skillet of biscuits
that wouldn’t rise

Cake

I’m in paradise.

Even though I’ve just had one slice.

The flavours that burst in my mouth

Make all my thoughts fly South.

 

All worries go away.

And in this heaven I’m going to stay.

It’s light and fluffy and just so sweet.

It’s the only thing that I want to eat.

 

Because even when everything’s at stake

I can rely on my delicious cake.

House Of Illusion

        *House Of Illusion*

There is this carnivore,
That gives me unsolicited escorts.

Though sporadically,
But everywhere.

Believe me

This eyes of mine,
Has seen none animate
But my encephalon has
And so has my dreams.

Having it’s portraits
Saved to my CPU
Makes me feel disconsolate
And insecure.

This heart of mine
Fixed under and around
My breastbone,

Always wailing
To be relieved of
The corollary
Of pumping less blood.

All because of multiple thoughts
Of a single creepy critter

With a beautiful,

But scary structure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hour 6: The Ocean

The waves play with my toes, teasing and then urging,
Re surging, the siren tugs at me, 

pulls me in slowly until I’m standing at the edge of the world

The sun sets and the ocean melts into the sky

High and bold, in hues of gold, orange and pink, suddenly it’s as if everything was glowing

I look at my hands and they’re the same color as the sky 

It’s flowing, through me 

I see, the ocean in your face, hear the waves in your smile

For half a mile, my thoughts are hushed 

They stare in wonder, flushed, 

Like you and I 

Somewhere in the sky, the first star peeks at us,

I feel a quietness that will last me a century of peace 

The waves, they tease

And the sound envelopes, you and me

I close my eyes, I no longer need to see

The universe aligned,

Built me a shrine in this moment

For a moment, everything that ever came together, 

Came together for me.

(Hour 06) 03.30-04.30am. PROMPT, perfect day

perfect days 

i.

long for a replay
   of a late summer’s day
lonely west coast beach
with the whitest sand
sun slung low in the sky
me  reading some space opera
mum dozing in sunglasses
   even occasionally snoring

Rueben playing sandcastles
   next to her towel
Rueben choraling chuckles
Rueben wandering off
Rueben in trouble
Rueben under the surface
Rueben with salt water
   behind his rib bones

my mother praising me
   instead of hurling abuse
for not taking better
care of my brother (her son)
while babysitting him
didn’t even realise i had to
she was there on the beach
   right there

 

ii.
— arriving somewhere
            safe
— no need to run
— hiding is built in
— where
            others can decide
— where a mistake
            does not infer
            disaster

— where i can find
            stillness again 

Hour 6, Dichotomy

I awaken to electrically charged air particles
standing the hairs of my arms up at attention,
the bed a warm cocoon holding at bay
a world awash in rain.

The crackling energy is both felt and heard
in thunderous crashes and booms,
reverberating through sternum and heart.

I step out beneath the overhanging roof past the door,
daring to enter the domain between my safe interior
and a world no longer my own, warmth at my back,
and wildness in my face.

The storm subsides to a murmur as I step further out,
the soaked hem of my long dress slapping my ankles
as I bury my face in the humid, red scent
of newly opened roses, droplets trickling down face and arms.

I turn, renewed wild creature,
and turn and turn again,
falling to the wetness beneath my feet,
breathing the earth through my skin.

Finally I am chilled and soaked, abashed and ready to return
to my civilized home, stripping bare and sharing the warmth beneath
feathered down comforters with my waiting love,
through delicate touches and wondering kisses blending
the wild without and the warm within.

 

6

6/

Sunwarmed butter
Bread torn in hunks
Black coffee, fresh ground
Green grass smell strong
Four hours of sunshine
Only one shadow