The Poetry Marathon

A Recipe For Disaster

We loved, we created and we destroyed.

We loved the process of mixing our insecurities into our hearts,

Stirring the mixture with our red flags and pouring it into our lives.

We created a recipe for disaster, heated it with our raw infatuation,

Dressed it as love and wrapped it neatly before consuming our vile concoction.

As we set it in the cold we abandoned our posts and our creation.

We had seen ice in so many places,

But never had we seen ice come out of our hearts.

We had realised that somewhere in between adding too much pride,

And forgetting to put communication we left ourselves out for too long.

So we were forced to throw away our once thought perfect creation.

Destroyed our recipe of disaster,

And tried again with other people.

~Baker

Hour 2, Recipe For a Happy Parent

Recipe for a Happy Parent

1) Patience

2) Wonder

3) Friends

4) Bugs, birds, and butterflies

5) More yes than no

With a lot of help
I raised three humans to adulthood,
and emerged with my sanity intact.

Patience was required throughout,
the main ingredient for weathering
each whine and fidget,
all tantrums and tears,
every bit of angst
and sticky embraces.

Outside was our salvation,
a blue outdoors our refuge,
a grey one our charged entertainment.

Friends would come and go,
imparting life lessons
on their own paths to elsewhere.
Birds, bugs, butterflies, and books
awaited curious minds
and grubby hands,
far more lasting
an impression to make.

A “yes,” and a “yes”
for most “mama, may I . . .?”s
eased them on their way,
more honey than vinegar
the potion to cure
so many childhood ills.

I ached for those days
when they ended,
far more than those now
grown babes,
until the day
a red, squalling grandson
was placed in my arms.

A new chance was given
to practice patience
through whines and fidgets,
tantrums and tears,
angst and sticky embraces,
as I and my fuzzy headed partner
read, ramble,
wonder, and roam.

Tracy Plath

 

Hour 2; Prompt 2: Adventure Casserole

Ingredients:
Math rocks; d20 set,
Tabletop; game mat or best option
Friends; 2 or more, but not more than ten
Imagination; any flavor
Time; 3-4hrs a week: more if possible

1. Write a plot, thick but not stiff; should be a consistency that allows for further thickening as needed
2. Add in some twists
3. Mix well, then set to the side.
4. In a separate room, assemble friends in a concentric circle; pentagrams and candles are optional
5. Mix each friend separately with math rocks, pen or pencil, a notebook, and character sheet. (tumble math rocks and record results)
6.Bring plot back to the table, and fold in each friend until thoroughly engrossed
7. Set timer for 0:0

This recipe is subject to change, and will never result in the same ending
Happy Adventuring!

Love’s Kitchen

What do you have today?

Well, we’ve got our special.

And, what’s that?

Well, love on a platter of gold.

Oh, really?

Yea, but you have to welcome

Everything that comes with it.

And, what might they be?

Oh, our chief chef, Cupid

Added a pinch of sensibility,

An eternity of flame.

Well, we’ve got the option of heartbreaks.

Which would you want?

What’s the other?

A chance to love again, and again.

A chance to heal. A chance to savour

The taste of true love in the body of a perfect earth.

Of course, you can avoid this.

You could enjoy our freshly prepared loneliness.

9:09am (new changes)

its been a hell of a week, driving around in fear while pumping doubt in the fuel tank.

everything is changing.

the locks of the world has finally opened back up but with the key around crooked stoplights that could change their mind at any given green light.

new streets have been paved under old tires, car rides are lonely when all your friends are flying in planes, going to their destinations over the sunny rays as the traffic ahead keeps you occupied.

where are you going? make a left at Single and single ave., construction on relationship street so make a u turn to heartbreak boulevard so you can get back on the freeway.

despite the new road you’re still driving on the same route.

Recipe For Survival (hour 2 prompt 2)

Ingredients:

1. Determination

2. Steel

3. Will

4. Diamond dust

5. Faith

Made of determination

With a core of steel

More than a dash of fury

And a concentrated will

Dip 3 times in diamond dust

Add in any rival

Mix up well & toss with faith

And you’ve a recipe for survival.

~Mandy Kocsis©2020~

hour 1 sarah was here 2020

sarah was here 2020

im screaming up at stars : : in the desert & its been too long
since we’ve spoken face to face because i hate a cliche

but dang it if I haven’t missed talking
to the bart-simpson-on-a-motorcycle constellation

i discovered at 16 at the gulf i can’t unsee
with a person whose memory id rather not evoke

(thats whats in a name romeo)   still tho i wonder
over him sometimes  :   i wish my rapist peace

does that make me a saint or a pushover   the answer is yes
i have a part that knows war-chiggers

still burrowed in his hands & ankles were
the reason he did

ink smears as i let go of my body drunk on ink
my hand blurs across the paper —the smudge left

is a fossil-of-movement   is a skid in the earth
that says   that screams at stars   :   :   sarah   was   here

 

 

Marathon 2020!

The ecstacy of fantasy
Echoes…
As I trudge against the tide
In this virtual marathon
Racing with the athletic passion of a gold medalist
Fellow wordsmiths on this lane
Running with venal darts and pleasurable verses
Fusing creative fibres parabolically
With spices of metaphors and innuendos
The aesthetics of your art reeks with elegance
The eloquence of your compelling lexis
affirms your exotic charm with words…
Let’s enjoy the sail…
We are all winners in this marathon of enthralling versification!

2020 Hour 2: Recipe for my psyche

#1: Fear

#2: Self-awareness

#3: Protective Gear

#4: Plan

#5: Survival

Fear starts the clock

Fear of the unknown

The persistent drag

Of self-awareness, always on the outside

Looking in but from a distance

Seeing myself from way too high up.

Fear of being seen-

How do I cover myself

To ward off whatever

Or whoever is coming?

Add protective gear at all times,

The contingency wardrobe conceived to conceal.

And plan, always plan

Fear being caught unprepared

Never without an umbrella,

For whatever the weather

Even the hint of rain

Or the downpour of sudden human interaction

Will not be unanticipated.

Go through the day, get through the day

Survive the self-directed stress of all the planning

That went into that one foray

Outside the calm.

 

PARADISE

PARADISE

 An untimely beauty with soft dark skin.

She walks with the confidence of a queen strolling along the gold path laid before her.

Wearing exquisite cloths crafted by the most conscious designers of her village.

Her hair is golden with coils shining like crystals in the sun.

Watching her children play and laugh at the elephants and giraffes.

 

She bends down to place her hands in the soil to connect to the vibrations of the earth.

A smile graces her face as the merchants surround her with jewels, stones, and sage.

The horizon blends into the green ocean as the seagulls dive elegantly below the surface.

Music begins to play in the distance.

The drums and flutes harmonize as her hips begin to join the rhythm of the waves.

The breeze overtakes her the wind wraps its arms around her fragile body and carries her closer towards

the beat.

 

Her people are waiting and watching in awe as she moves through the crowd.

Smiling and rejoicing the harvest was graced with abundance.

Her children grab the maracas and the celebration is magnified.

A peace settles over everyone as the flutes begin to play a soothing frequency.

This is my home, this is paradise.