Redaction – Hour 14
I can’t do this poem.
I don’t know how to start a poem I would redact for changed meaning.
Time is simply flying by and I can’t put a single word on the page. Sorry.
I tried.
I’m Not Engaged
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
For two days Facebook made me
look engaged,
but I’m not
still single.
It was a game
when I hit a button
and it would tell me
how my 2023 would end
ENGAGED in bold letters
it read
and that’s all my friends saw.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
The piles of hearts comments
and Congratulations wishes poured in.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
At first I assumed
it was my poetry Haiku award,
I was being congratulated for.
Then I saw it
the picture with the oversized ring
and it looked like my hand.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
Then there was my profile picture
from a Meet and Greet with Jason Cerbone
aka Jackie Aprile Jr on The Sopranos.
We looked like a couple happy with our smiles
except he’s married and has a daughter.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single
like a newspaper headline
or billboard announcement.
I have the best Facebook friends
for thinking I’m a good enough catch
for Jason Cerbone.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
#1: I’m Late
#1: I’m Late
I’m late! I’m late!
Shit, I forgot it was today.
The fear running through my body
Makes my fingers tap, tap away.
As fast as they can tap.
We have to close a big gap!
Forever
Hour 2
My first memory of friendship
First memory of joy
First memory of togetherness
And also first memory of rivalry
He is only one and a half younger
My brother, much ahead of me
He always makes me wonder by his talks
He always makes me proud by his deeds
Although younger he is more mature than me
Many a times I turn to him for advice
Always ready to help others
The most selfless soul I ever saw
He gives me strength
He gives me courage
I know he will be there for me
He is the one ‘forever’
Rashmi S Kurup
Hour 14 – Becoming You, Losing Me
Trailing you along life's path through your trials and tribulations I learn about me and my failures and impossible situations Mirror, mirror shows me more than I could ever learn from a book you let me know through your hook that I am just a soulful thief Stealing from you my expectations pushing you far from your desire toward my illusion I release you to be brighter
Slinging and throwing9pm
clear
don’t forget the gloves
soak
make sure they’re clean
sling it onto the pile
DON’T DROP IT
dammit! there goes my record
four glasses, two plates
chop chop chop
drop in the oven
don’t forget the mitts
mix mix mix
make sure its hot
serve it up
roll your eyes
put it away
you’re done
cooking and dishes are such hard jobs
2023 Hour 14: Sleepless
Prompt from 2016 Marathon: Write a poem that contains one or more of the following common phrases but uses them in a different context than they are usually used. Ideally you would use more than one of the phrases, or repeatedly use the same phrase.
“Welcome home”
“Thank you”
“Excuse me”
“Have a nice day”
“Pardon me”
“How are you?”
Sometimes the thoughts crowding into the surprisingly limited space of my mind at night mill about, brushing against one another, pushing through the narrow aisles and seeking space to stand and breathe.
Pardon me.
Wherever or whatever keeps those thoughts carefully hidden during the bright and open hours of the day cannot hold them back when the darkness falls and the barriers fade to wisps of transparent smoke.
Excuse me.
Like the entirety of a bat colony taking flight from their cave of upside-down docility, these thoughts wing about, lacking precision, disdaining focus, calling out for chaotic collaboration.
Pardon me.
While a single entity calls for quiet, for the cacophony to subside in favor of the welcoming cavern of empty space that cradles sleep, the crowd laughs and jeers, sobs and stomps, cries out for the attention each one craves.
Excuse me.
The party lingers through the early morning hours, every uninvited guest promising to take their leave before lapsing into yet another telling of the story everyone else already knows by heart.
Pardon me.
And finally, as dawn’s massaging fingers creep above the horizon, those raucous, self-serving thoughts begin to stretch, and yawn, and slip away into their private, unreachable realm.
Welcome home.
Yayo
It’s an afterthought, really;
a mirage if you will.
& you have no idea how difficult
it has been
to keep all of this from especially you
because the truth is i’ve garnered
an affinity for you.
in many ways, you have given me
the experience of having a brother
& i couldn’t be more grateful.
Let’s Not Forget Them
The day I heard about the kids
and where they were buried
was the day my world stood still.
Anger flowed through me
as I wanted to yell out
to the world
“What’s wrong with you!”
Sadness washed out the anger,
as I thought of those innocent faces
wiped away from the world.
No one knows who they are.
I wanted to cry.
To cry for them,
to cry for their parents
who never got to say goodbye.
Pure disappointment then came.
I was in awe
on how fast everyone
got over it.
I vowed to hold them in heart,
because no one else would.
I said to the air around me,
“Let’s not forgot what pains they went through.
those 215 children
who lost their light
at the end of their tunnel.”