The Poetry Marathon

2020, A Unseen Vision -Haiku (HR 4)

Coronavirus

Social distancing, 6 feet

Global pandemic

Sister

A Change in the Weather

sky blue when I awoke

at dawn a bright new day

I fell to drowse in optimism

only to awake once more

blue fallen from the sky

in pounding drops

grey

anticipation pouring away

drowned in depression

pouring on me from above

I fell into melancholy

and slept again

and now I sit

dragged from my bed

by responsibilities and promises

blue returned but

whipped away

can I call the wind?

beg for blue

a peeping sun

allowed to shine

dry the clouds

and blue bring back

above

if blue

is whisked away

perchance today

I will see the sun

dance under the blue

begin anew

a journey

heralded

by nothing I can control

blue skies

and a change in the weather

Mommy’s Cooking Soup

Mommy’s Cooking Soup

 

Better Than Bouillon boils in the pot, waiting

for Mommy to stir. She twists the spoon in her hand,

grazing scraped metal, watching for the water

to pop!, for the vegetables to rise and fall, waves

raging against the sea, reaching for the sky.

 

I don’t tell her I hate the sound of the spoon

crawling across the pot, metal on metal,

sloshing the contents until they gurgle.

I smile and nod, watch her stir, hover

over the heat like it’s her purpose in life.

prompt #4: epistolary poem

Dear Daddy ~

At 6, I howled when you took a hammer to my bed.

I couldn’t know that we were moving, despite what you said.

Mommy tried to intervene, but all I knew was broke.

You tried to comfort me, I’m sure, your shirt front soaked

with tears. Forgive you? I could not, not at 6 years old.

But I could forget, and that I did. Although the story told

of differences in what we saw, and what we did about it.

Each move to each new base, each house slightly more crowded.

New babies grew, old friends withdrew. We had another home.

I howled again. My broken heart hated how distance loomed

across the ocean, far away. Would all my family die?

Would Grandma & Aunt Bonnie live? YOU made me say goodbye.

I wish that I could tell you, now, I too have moved away ~

from bitter words and accusations, from all age has allayed.

I wish that we could talk once more, and you would share your stories.

And I would put my hand in yours, and we would be at ease.

And you would laugh that laugh we share, and share where we have roamed.

Knowing now that where we are, together, is our home.

 

#3. Witnessing the Love

The problem I see is it’s all about me
The lens of my vision is cloudy
Where reality lies in the ads that we buy
Fill the bandwidth between my two ears
While the earth tumbles on
We debate like a pawn in the field of destruction.

As above, so below
Witnessing the love

How to move beyond Fear, with its limits so clear
To a place where my heart will expand
Melting trauma and loss
Like the fan on defrost
Compassion for self, then for others
Educating my soul
Using faith as a goal
To beyond where the sky has no end

As above, so below
Witnessing the love

Too much ego will limit
My growth as I spin it
Concentric and dialed to need
Move beyond self defenses
To the realm of acceptance
Is a path I envision and dream

As above, so below
Witnessing the love

I Am I, 1st Hour

1st Hour  https://thepoetrymarathon.com/blog/seventhsolstise/i-am-i/ ‎

I Am I.

The evenings and the mornings,
Sunday - the first day,
Bikkurim.

I am the first fruits,
singleness,
Priestess...Israel.

Africa rooted,
the riches of glory...
Suffering suited
in darkness.

I tell my story,
I am black in light skin...
hope roped in chains 
of melanin - 
the Master Cylinder
of a rejected,
unprotected past.

I am present, past,
forever undisturbed
composition and positioned
among the diluted mixture
of whose child I am.

I am sweet, alagae syrup,
Black, white, red, brown
planted on fallow ground,
America I am...
broken and outspoken,
living a token life of
misnomers.

I know who I am...
Ann, Hanna, Anani, Ada,
Sadie...Beulah
in a strange land,
Brenda - Queen - blood from
the Motherland
Bright and shining star,
Seventh...perfect and entire,
wanting nothing but who
I am.

Airing the Husband

Airing the Husband

 

My mother aired her laundry.

I air my husband.

He sits in the dark,

grumbles, gets

dank and musty.

Face transforms into

old bark and burls.

Lichen-covered, moss

begins to grow

on his north side.

He schleps up the stairs.

Watches the news,

yells at TV people.

At times, he and the lawn mower

disappear to make noise,

cut things down.

He comes home

tired and dusty.

I lead him out the door

into the light,

into the car.

Short trips to see

the sky, other distant people.

Warm breezes blow

through the mildewed mood.

The lines smooth,

crust slowly disappears,

voice mellows.

For a while,

he smells like sunshine.

what still hurts

i know what’s coming
cats don’t live longer than people
i remember the pain
the ineffable grief
don’t want to get out of bed don’t want to go to school
how could i
when the best cat the world ever had was dead
i wish i wasn’t there when the vet put her down
she was scared

i wonder as i pet sleek black fur
and rub a spotted tabby tummy
if this is worth it
is the joy they give me now
greater than what will come
what still hurts

maybe it is not a matter of worth
of choice
but of necessity
maybe i need these furry companions
to love unconditionally
to break my heart
someday
maybe not
i think they might be worth it

hour 3 on dying being alone & shame that lives in the body

like drowning the light holding
you won’t hurt after you’ve given up

the tentacle float of your body buoyant
as moon-air after you surrender

you wont be alone anymore don’t worry
sarah alone is earth as grass is earth is just a blink

then poof do not worry your body forgives
you can you feel weight lessen

by leagues can you hear
the switch are you listening for it

sarah the saddest part of your body is where
you do not love it are you lost

in thought child the trees have growth
rings too

the shame does not belong wedged
in between iris and pupil shine and star

does not belong to any part of you
same as to no part of the sky sarah home is where you find

your integrity don’t be afraid
of home the most beautiful thing about your body is who it is loyal to