The Poetry Marathon

Hour 1: Post 1: The Costume

Who will I be?

The question I ask myself 

hundreds of times a day.

The perfect soccer mom-

mini van 

baked goods 

PTA

Barbie looks with my newly pressed dress

nails done

hair up 

ready for the front page.

The trophy wife-

dinner on the table

waiting eagerly for my lover to walk through the door

cater to their every need

slaving over the hot stove in ninety degree heat 

kids screaming 

mom 

mom 

mom 

all day blaring like trumpets 

in the background.

The perfect daughter-

her shit together

never saying anything out of the way

polite 

content 

never doing wrong 

no past to speak of 

cant get anyone upset.

Or maybe just me-

The mom who tries her best 

yet still feels like a complete failure 

list isn’t done

clothes aren’t perfect

dust on the shelf

stepping on toys

crying in the closet

drinking wine for breakfast

cussing like a sailor

barefoot on the porch

anxiety setting in. 

Giving my all 

but is that enough? 

Seems to be 

but the demon in my head 

screams

no 

no 

no

you’re failing!

Get it right!  

The daughter

the sister

the mother

the friend

trying to prove my life is all together;

yet slipping back 

every chance I get to get ahead. 

Here he goes again.

screaming.

no 

no 

no

you’re failing.

But here I am 

day by day

putting on my perfect society approved costume

just to get by

and fighting like hell

to do the best I can.

I am my own inspiration.

I am the best version I can be.

No Matter

Brave and determine girl,

Ready to fight for her rights,

To make education equal,

No matter the status,

No matter the language,

No matter the race,

No matter the place,

No matter who you are,

We are all equal

To deserve education

and more…

@Mejia- Hour 1

A Haiku to Shine

Shine, carry the light.

Darkness can’t cover pure love,

a beacon of hope. (more…)

Hour 1: Special Moms

Every day you find a new struggle,

A mountain to climb, a journey to start

You look at your child with determination

Find the strength to go on in your heart.

You battle your fears and frustrations,

Wondering how you got here.

With a wondrous birth, full of joy and mirth

The distant light now threatening to disappear.

Look…you have made it this far in your journey

Your child has their own glowing light

In the day you can find all your blessings

Even if tears you shed in the night.

Take each day as it comes at you

Keep on going, even with qualms.

You are doing the best you could possibly do

In this life of a special needs mom.

I was told

Told never to succeed.

Told never to make something important.

Told worthless effort.

Told wrong, everything wrong.

Well, success was not easy.

Well, it was important to a few.

Well, effort changed things.

Well, not everything wrong, but not everything right.

Somehow I made it and slowly as it maybe, truly be happy that I did it!

2020 Poetry Marathon, Hour 1

Hour 1 prompt: Write a poem about a famous woman or an influential woman you know personally.

(more…)

Clouds

Wafting away, seizing every opportunity.

Demented in spirit, but light as air.

Horrifying from afar

Vibing in the tendrilous breeze

Of inadequate earnings.

Made from broken promises and

Meaningless gestures, non -serious in density.

Apart all else is doomed.

Sent away to the edges of the world.

Where beauty resides in colours

Purple turns to yellow, turns to green.

Harkens in sleep a bewildering dream.

Hour 1

Laura

Perfectly polished and ready to go

she sacrifices none of her femininity.

Constantly questioned and tested

answers on the tip of her tongue.
She can’t afford a single slip

Barked at for answers relentlessly asked

no time to rest, no slowing down
looking for a champion to take her place
when at last the marathon is over.
No weakness is here

only the shadow of a giant.

 

Lump

Walking around, disconcerted.

Wondering what went wrong.

Was it the good times, was it the vomiting.

Signals from other worlds more meaningful than ever.

Stuffed cotton under the skin, makes me feel like a rag doll.

Rags drenched in yuck and liquid, what was it?

The good times, or the good times to come?