The Poetry Marathon

Understanding Goodbye (hour 4 prompt 4)

You were so much more than your ending

But that was long ago

Long before your alcoholic demons took your soul

Long before you lost yourself to the bottom of the wells

Long before we hit this fucking town that I call Hell

You used to be a fighter, and a father, and a man

You used to be my husband, my lover, my best friend

Then alcohol, it changed you

Like Jekyll into Hyde

When I saw this day was coming

I left you, and I cried

I should’ve left the first time Hyde put your hands on me

I should’ve left the first time you caused me to bleed

I tried so hard to save you, did everything I could

I hope at least some part of you inside understood

I hope you’ve finally found the peace you never really found

In the bottom of the bottle that you built your life around

I hope that it was painless when the angels took you home

And I hope you finally understand just why I had to go.

~Mandy Kocsis©2020~

Wondering

Wondering

 

For Billy, Who Died Too Young

 

I am surprised at how often

I have thought about you

over all these decades.

Your tragic end still lingers.

 

I wonder what has happened

to the infant son and young wife.

you left behind. I wonder why

you become so erratic as a teen.

 

Was it because of your relationship

with your father and mother?

Or the low self-esteem you suffered

because of facial acne?

 

Like you, your cousin, Joe,

died unexpectedly a few years ago,

but he led a relatively full life,

one you were never afforded.

 

I wonder about your afterlife

and ask myself “Are you at peace?”

When my life comes to its end

will we three reconnect?

 

Our lives are separate stories

containing suspenseful moments,

with their own unique endings

some tragic, some unforeseen, some abrupt—

 

some unforgettable.

03:00 Iron Mum

Her mother at her best had only one daily care:

“Feed up ungrateful pups, no smile even rare”.

Severe, stone-hearted, ever busy with household,

her mother was kind of woman ignored and bold.

In rare moments she came to mum with a toy,

half-broken, with a blurred stamp of past child’s joy,

with a plea in her voice: “could you play with me?”

“Wait a moment!” A promise never to be …

Walk Bop

Saw the cone gnome fixing up a stop sign today

and the mailman and a brown box truck

but I ponder as a walked past the delivery van’s smile

what keep us grinning while they take our cards up

cuz the roads need upkeep and the house needs upkeep

and the closet and the basement fill up

 

but I ponder and I wonder as a wander round the block

today I wondered if they’ll ever be enough

 

Saw a black man falling off his bike yesterday

in my sister’s neighborhood it was a shock

cuz in the white burbs a black skin man is fairly rare

but to see him bloodied on the ground is sadly not

so we asked if we could phone a friend to pick him up

it went to voicemail, you see a stranger answer not

but didn’t call to 911-and have the ambulance come

cuz if the police came out he might get shot

 

but I ponder and I wonder as a wander round the block

today I wondered if they’ll ever be enough

 

So he left his three piece bicycle, dusted off his skinned knee

and settled in to end his bike ride with a walk

We said farewell, prayed for his health, waved good bye and wished him well

And walked our way back home continuing to talk

Cuz the laws need upkeep and lawns need upkeep

and the prison yards, man, you gotta keep em stocked

 

but I ponder and I wonder as a wander round the block

today I wondered if they’ll ever be enough

 

 

To Those I Left Behind

It would take too long to write to all of you

Everyone I left behind as I was forced to move forward

With each new place and each new life I met more of you

I like to think that each of our friendships helped us grow in some way

That we brought something good into each other’s lives

To all of you, whether it was only a few months or even a few years

Thank you

Your friendship means more than the world to me

Dear Grandma

I miss your laughter
and the way you sang out loud.
I miss the comfort of your wisdom.
The way you held your head so proud.

I often wish that we could visit
like we did back in the day.
I have so many things to tell you.
I always wonder what you’d say.

When I look back and remember
on the days that formed my childhood years.
I see you standing front and center
through a rainbow blur of tears.

I see you smiling thorough the hard times
and all the good times too.
I wouldn’t be who I am without you.
Oh dear Grandma, I miss you.

Hour 4 — I’m Always Thinking of You

Beth A. Fleisher

Hour 4

Prompt 4:  My own. 🙂

 

 

I’m Always Thinking of You

 

Wherever I am

whoever I’m with

whatever I’m doing

whenever I let my thoughts loose . . .

I’m always thinking of you.

 

Dear Black Mothers (4th Hour 2020)

Dear Black Mothers,

I am sorry that your moments of powerful love were twisted into existential fear.

I am sorry that at a time you should be able to revel in your child’s natural life, you are made to feel deep doubts of their very existence.

That the monsters you protected them from underneath their beds have transitioned into real ones in the outside world.

Hell, they are still busting in their bedrooms–guns blazing.

While, we, the villagers just looked on.

I know you felt it. As a mother you have that bond.

That other-worldly, celestial, I carried you for nine months or so while you fed off of my body, heart, and soul bond.

Could never be cut once the cord is gone

It still thrived there within the bosom their little bodies nourished from

It still manifested itself when they moved away from home for the first time and you both dream of dreams that were much more than love and hope and fear.

It was there when you raised up one, not of your own blood but of your own spirit.

That stellar, blessed, divine bond.

I know you felt it.

When your child,

the human you created, molded,

blessed as you kissed their boo-boos away left this Earth.

No. Not left.

It wasn’t by choice that you’re little cherub with ten tiny toes and ten tiny fingers transcended to a bigger human to an angel, again.

Some didn’t even make it to adulthood.

No. Not make it. Their growth was stunted.

It wasn’t by choice that your babygirl with black curls and beautiful smile stopped breathing.

It wasn’t by choice that your lil shy boy who you always dreamt about becoming a beautiful grown man with more dreams than nightmares took his last breath.

No. Not that he took his last breath.

It was taken from him.

I am sorry that as a village we failed to stop the monsters from ripping your bonds.

And now, after many of your children are still being slaughtered like God’s lambs

We, the villagers, vow to make a stand

That your bonds may never be torn by the monsters’ hands.

The Next Right Thing

Sometimes life itself is too much. In these moments, and allow myself to do the next right thing.

I wash a dish.

I clean my place.

I take a nap.

I give thanks.

Hour 4

Dark Chocolate

 

We haven’t spoken in eight years

I think of you often

Are you that same boy I fell in love with?

The boy with the dimples

The boy who wanted to become a firefighter

And did

I wonder what you’re like

If you would even speak to me

The fear keeps me back