The Poetry Marathon

Hour 5, Prompt 5 – Up

Paced by the scurried thoughts apprehending me,

I only saw the decay of fallen foliage.

I felt my steps squander eyes’ appetite, before it could flee;

Without a thought I aimed to reach the bridge.

 

Fraught with impatience,

I did not notice the crackling of leaves,

Or the generous bounce of the floor’s bedding; – vehemence

In my schedule, a stroll was time taken by thieves.

 

Sudden, a sharp call resounds from the branches;

Jolted, my confidence subsides and I am aware of my crime.

Desperate now, I stop my race and pray for all chances

Of finding my liberator: the songbird who stopped time.

 

Hour 5: A Limerick for Caboose (my boyfriend’s dog who looks like a potato with legs)

Hour 5: A Limerick for Caboose (My boyfriend’s dog who looks like a potato with legs)

 

There once was a dog called Potato,

who like to play down in the stream,

but when he was done, washing mud was no fun.

And he thought his owner was mean.

 

Wandering at Sky

Look up,

The sky is not all black,

Look close,

The moon is missing,

But stars still shine.

 

We may not see the sun yet,

Sparkling stars give us hope,

Light is out there,

Keeping us enlightened,

Telling us to wait for sunrise..

The madness beyond love

• I in a separate land called land i feel in love with a beauty whose character is like a odious vermin

But she pleads with me not to leave her for she knows how much disrespect i take daily

Her lies is enough to put a man to his early grave, she cheated once and as swore to remain faithful ever since then

But my trust for her has withered still trying to add manure to see if it can be saved hopefully it won’t be a waste

As the days goes by i try to wonder why a person would cheat, i lose hope in the world gradually as i try to count the few nice ones that are left unfortunately the number reduces daily as their hearts are being damaged

You ask yourselves why will i commit suicide??, After all his wealth why will he take his life??

Have you ever felt pain, bottled up emotions and at that point there was no one to trust, no one to tell you to live the day as it goes by and you end up pulling the trigger before it’s too late

They say love is passion, it’s a story, it’s nice but do not be deceived all roses have thorns, you want to love but are you ready to bear the thorns??

Can you repair a damaged soul and withstand the pain of getting pricked a thousand times by a rose if not leave it be and chase happiness

Love isn’t poison, it’s a blessing, relationship is getting the cure to a person’s poison it reveals your true nature how patient you can be

Do not give up for few drops of water makes a mighty ocean and if you can conquer her emotions then a day will come and her character will also be conquered by true love

This Old Carved Heart – hour 5, prompt 5

This old carved heart

sappy, bleeding part

from unhealed wounds

and unmet needs.

Or wretched heart

love once anew

now grows dull

and withered too.

The sap, like tears

our hopes and dreams

turn into fears

days turn years

house in arrears

homeless in cars

celing’s the stars.

Be still, old heart

a memory

you could possibly be

of sunshine through the trees

and lilacs smelling sweet

your head at my feet.

Maybe, dear heart

love died too young

a mourner touching

crying, sighing so

at the grave below.

And yet, this heart

might merely be

a promise of eternity

your hand inside mine

our bodies, entangled vines

love growing with time

like sweet aged wine.

– Sandra Johnson

 

 

5 – Funeral Time

I don’t seem to know a lot about a lot of things these days since all the bombs, since we lost Dad and I rarely feel him anymore, since the gun and the takings and the raging hot, impotent blood, since Mom’s slipping awayness, since the mass release of the damagers… I don’t seem to know a lot about a lot of things.

Associations are outdated, overused, stale, like telling a story out of  habit… rehearsed. I don’t know a lot about a lot of things these days, but I know I have stopped telling those tales, stopped trying to keep things alive that want to die, that need to die, that died a long time back, but still need to be laid to rest.

This is the funeral time, the memorial time, the reflective time between death and burial. I’m picking flowers and readying myself, preparing to open up the earth and lay it all down. Then, there will be some space for knowing again. Then, I am certain I will know more about more things again.

I am certain new stories are coming…

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 7am

Crests and Troughs (Hour 5)

The pinnacle of the cliff

Holds my view stiff

 

Along the trough, the boat is empty

Gentle in its sail, its promise is scanty

 

At that frightening top, I am closer to the sky

They said it’s the limit, to the earth I won’t say bye

 

Oh I love jumping down, there is fun in the risk

If the boat is on a pool of tears, I’d rather shelf my frisk

 

The knack to navigate the peaks and valleys

Gives me a sense of what should be in my grocery trolleys

 

All said; for choice I’ll stay at the peak

That will keep my bird pointing to the sky with its beak

 

 

Hour 5

Sometimes it’s hard to see past your own nose

But out here

on this boat

endless sky above me

I am reminded

how small I am

how small my problems are

 

They used to think the world was flat

Some still do

They used to think the Earth was at the center of the universe

White people still do

It has knocked the wind out of them

to think they are not the center of the universe

 

My world has forever revolved around yours

Our survival depended on it

 

It is time for a new worldview

Statues

my sister said she saw the statues dance
I told her to leave me alone
but the kid kept saying, every night
“the statues are dancing!”
“no, it’s not the swaying trees!”
“no, I’m not dreaming!”
“I saw it!”
“come watch them with me!”
so here we are
laying in the rainwet grass
of the citylight-lit garden
you can’t see the stars out here
we haven’t spoken
I think she fell asleep
dreaming of statues dancing
then I see a stone hand shift
through the brush
the hand moves stiffly, then the arm
the whole woman slowly wakes
she reaches for the man nearby
and he, too, begins to move
I watch them slide off their pedestals
motions smoothing out
they take each other’s hands
slowly, calmly
underwater giants
unaware of my tiny eyes watching
when their feet touch the earth
there is no shuddering boom
silently these marble beasts
step and leap and spin
they are suspended
in time and air
floating, twisting among the flowers
I fall asleep
to their lullaby dance
my sister and I
tucked away
in the garden foliage

Prompt 5 ~ Post 5 ~ Grace at The End of The Tunnel

There’s grace at the end of the tunnel

Although I travel alone.

There’s grace at the end of the tunnel

though my path’s not always shown.

 

I can see with the guiding light

He sets before me each day.

As I call on Him He’s faithful

To hear me when  I pray.

 

For I know the plans you have for me

to prosper and not harm anymore.

So hold me tight, come into my boat

As we travel from shore to shore.

by Del Bates

 ^“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 NIV