The Poetry Marathon

WWJD?

I am a Christian, but
not like those other ones
I swear that I’m not scary
or judgemental or insecure
like the ones who make me wince at
“What would Jesus do?”

Sometimes I have to wonder
if they’ve even read their Holy Book
that says to love with action
and love abundantly, no “ifs”
Can they serve a Prince of Peace, God of Love,
while spewing hate and apathy?
How dare they invoke Christ’s name in vain with
“What would Jesus do?”

Jesus would invite them in,
poor, rich, pure, corrupt
Speak and show a better way
for those led down thorny paths
I could learn a thing or two by asking
“What would Jesus do?”

2020 Marathon (Poem #1)

Oh how I love 2020
It’s a year of so much diversity
A state of time
Where there is no Lyme
Oh why oh why
It’s just about time
We get to enjoy the Lyme

A time of solitude
A time of gratitude
A time to subdue
A time to draw back the curtains
A time to look back
A time to get on track

Never a dull moment in 2020
Welcome to the year of diversity
Let’s embrace this new era
A year of uncertainty
A year of change
A year that will soon end
A year that will soon to be the past

All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2020 Roxann A Harvey-Lawrence

Pandemic

One day folds into the next
and I am disoriented
by so much time, so little time
At night, my dreams are haunted
by face masks, germs
and nasal swabs.

What time is it now?

Sometimes I think
how much I will age
before my next pub drink with friends
and that I might not see my dad again
and then I distract myself
filling hummingbird feeders
scrubbing the sink
watching protests on the news.

What time is it now?

We can use this pause
if we seize the moment:
dismantle racist structures
pay attention to the planet
focus on peace
but we cannot wait another minute

What time is it now?

stress

trying to find peace is like,

trying to find blue ketchup,

at walmart when all that is in stock,

is mustard and organic mayo when,

you clearly remember seeing it on the shelves,

when you were younger and carefree.

02:00a.m Forgotten on the lake

Her first steps she did in torment,

she felt down, got bruised, no enjoyment.

She turned one year old (with no feast or celebration),

eldest brothers decided to go to lake, they had occasion

to take her with ( for no one to look after was ready).

Water was warm, sun shone and careless mood was steady,

soon they lost their sister out of sight,

she lay dehydrated in the grass in twilight.

 

What On Earth Is A Bop? 1/2 marathon poem #3

What On Earth Is A Bop
1/2 marathon poem #3

What on earth is a bop
I don’t know what to write
I wish these prompts would stop
I think I’m writing shite
What on earth is a bop
I don’t know what to write

Now every hour seems like it’s own marathon

What on earth is a bop
I struggle through stanzas
I try a quick Google
Looking for the answers
What on earth is a bop
Why am I doing this
I’m not enjoying it
So why do I persist

Now every hour seems like it’s own marathon

So this has been a bop
And now it’s nearly over
I wish these prompts would stop
I’ve struggled so far
So this has been a bop
Now at last it’s over!

This Third hour has been it’s own marathon.

(C) Scott Coe 2020

3 – Teenager

He says, “Gramma, that’s not what I said, and if it is, it isn’t what I meant!”

He isn’t a little  boy anymore.

He articulates, “I am ready for some freedoms from you, and I think they should be…”

He is making his way into independence, feeling his way into young adulthood.

I observe, hold back, give space.

It is a tricky tightrope

tough to balance.

I fail, a lot.

He is untying the proverbial apron strings, as it should be.

He vacillates, “Gramma, will you sing to me and rub my hands?”

 

Some things will remain…

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 5am

Poem#3 Using Prompt#3 Bop Poem entitled, Hair Today and Gone Tomorrow by Ingrid Exner

My hair-

It’s growing

VERY long!

Screaming for-

scissors

is its song!

 

Snip…snip…snip and, its gone!

 

Frizzy is

NOW

My middle name!

Temperatures rising

Higher!

HELP!

My hair is not

the same!

 

Snip…snip…snip and, its gone!

 

A little cut-

a little trim!

A new adventure to

begin!

Hair today shall be-

Gone tomorrow!

 

Snip…snip…snip and, its gone!

 

By Ingrid Exner, 2020 Poetry Half Marathon

 

Time Slips Away – Hour 3, Prompt 3

I have so much I’m s’posed to do within
a day, within an hour, within a week, a minute
too. I just need to do so much each day,
like get through work and clean things up
a bit, as any adult does. Yet for me, this seems
impossible, a day’s tasks can take three weeks for me.

If I could tell you what time felt like, grains of sand just slipping,
maybe then you’d understand. Maybe you wouldn’t blame me.

In ten minutes it’s been an hour, in 20 it’s
been two, a single thing that matters so much,
and what can I do? I could just let it happen, oh,
it would be so much easier. Let dust to dust
instead of old age and fury run this room,
this studio apartment. If only I could pause a moment
hold it in this time, folded in on itself, unaging and
get things done as expected of me.

If I could tell you what time felt like, grains of sand just slipping,
maybe then you’d understand. Maybe you wouldn’t blame me.

My life’s a blip, I know that well, and what
blips can do I cannot tell you. There’s no
solution, no easy fix, and not only am I stuck like this,
but everyone else moves on so easy as if
blips could cause some major change. Their blips
seem fuller than mine, less transient. Less empty.

If I could tell you what time felt like, grains of sand just slipping,
maybe then you’d understand. Maybe you wouldn’t blame me.

Hour 3: My Home is a Sanctuary

I rarely leave my home, these days,

holding to familiar rooms

and tending to my garden.

I enjoy companionship

of family as they go about

their comings and goings.

My home is a sanctuary,

sheltering me from change.

 

I rarely leave my home, these days.

I have designed for most of what I need:

food, comfort, the ability to work,

pets that provide distraction,

but yet, I wonder if I

am drawing lines within myself

setting boundaries between

what I am and what I might become.

My home is a sanctuary,

sheltering me from change.

 

I rarely leave my home these days,

but if I did, where would I go?

I take walks by the creek,

venture into a store, before

returning home to wash my hands,

then tending to my garden.

My home is a sanctuary,

sheltering me from change.