The Poetry Marathon

2. (2019) Last Night… A Crystal Rose Colored Dream

Standing next to a telephone pole,

In a waitress uniform.

Sweat dripping from my brow.

 

I’m waiting for him.

My brother is on the other line.

I had no idea that these blue-signed pay-phones still exist.

 

Looking at my self from a distance.

Lucid eyes bring me back in time

To a foreign land I once lived in long ago.

 

I left fresh cut roses pink and red coupled with wild flowers on a mahogany table.

The butcher paper was strewn about with green tissue paper.

My mother said, “Don’t worry it’s not safe here.”

 

“Leave it be.”

There will be more.

She was not worried as we drove off together.

 

Translation:

Do not look back to try and capture beauty, no matter how you are attracted to its nature.

Your safety is far more precious than the cut flowers that someone else will tend to and appreciate.

Leave beauty behind if you must, you find it anew.

 

Flowers will grow and be cut later after summer solstice.

Do not fear.

Beauty and love is in your heart; you take it with you everywhere you go.

 

Flashback to the diner,

Waiting for my brother,

Feeling proud.

 

I took off  my earrings.

Rested them on the counter, on a paper napkin.

One broke open and the other broke in two.

 

Both were in a crystal casing with silver knobs.

One was cracked

Revealing a resin filled with the sweetest tasting logwood honey.

 

Love still lives…

All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover

24. The Messenger XXIV

The bee is a clown

Luring you away in the belief

Of Nature, when it’s

Just a drone

Oh Fakeness

The elegy of the modern man

The city-a place where young people

bump into each other because of what?

Because of their smartphones, naturally!

God, so much concrete and so many phones!

 

The phones are smart, but smombies simply are not

since they go out without seeing nature, people.

Their whole life is on that screen and they cannot

disconnect even in traffic, risking their lives any second!

 

They cross parks without seeing the trees,

they forgot to look around and to smile.

These modern slaves dispel human faces,

doing technology on a regular basis!

 

Smombies are sad prisoners of their screens

and not at all aware of normal society’s screams.

They can become smart bombs activated by technology,

so they could be named sbombies if nothing at all changes!

 

How come you get to be Dorothy?

How come you get to be Dorothy?

 

The Scarecrow asked

Amazed while

Turning to the others

 

It’s not because

I’m a girl she answered

Sensitive to his feelings

 

The Lion had gone

Back to work while

The Tin Man listened

 

I need to learn home

Is not about the rules

Dorothy continued

 

The Tin Man

Smiled and touched

His loving heart

 

You don’t need

All the right people

To have a home

 

Now the Lion bravely

Listened as he

Knew this to be true

 

Home is accepting

And understanding

A safe place to fall

 

Oh said the Scarecrow

I knew that

I didn’t Dorothy replied

 

Welcome home

 

 

TobeTT  #24

Eternity

Let the winds fall across the swirling foam of the sea~

Nothing left to base reality on but you and me.

No matter the time or place, your wings of love enfolds me in an embrace.

I wrap myself around you and take you to my silent halls of love ~

Thunder rumbles,  lighting cracks on the horizon,  shaking the earth beneath our feet.

Drawing the last vestiges of strength from our souls,  we cannot fight for this love any more.

~No More~

To know loneliness,  but only our love for one another.

Bring down the walls,  for we shall release the fire that is  within our souls.

We shall not let anyone to control us,  lest we lose ourselves into each other.

We shall take our last steps together into all Eternity…

C. Burgess (c)

Walk on by, Major

Past walks Scott Peeples,
Professor or artist smartly
dressed in corduroy cream
pants, grey on grey grid
button down. Fingers grip
Essential Dylan and a glittery
black capo. A nod to Ashley Harmon,
no, Bryson, maiden and maiden and
matron. A copy of To Kill a Mockingbird,
shattered spine, August and Everything
After. Baton passed to Lisa Rudd,
small frame ruddy cheeks,
Izzy Willy Nilly and a
monogrammed Tervis. Severe. A look
is left for her, for Carol Ann,
for Carol Ann who needs no surname.
Carol Ann with the yoga mat. Carol Ann
with the children. Carol Ann
in the pastry shop with Elizabeth
Bishop handing off Stripe and Yellow and hope.

14. “Dear Former Self”

You are more than who they said you would be.

You drove in cars to the family reunion

Trying to reconnect with a family that would leave you in a far off summer dream.

 

Dreaming of roses and rhubarb corn and kohlrabi

Not forgetting tales of white-tailed deer in the far off fields.

 

One day you’d swim in a pool.

A pool of self doubt.

 

You never needed to fit in.

You never thought you were not enough.

For who …

 

You listened to your grandmother,

as she recollected that “She takes everything so literally.”

She was not even referring to you.

And somehow you became that side bar conversation.

 

When your mother thought she was a “rolling stone”,

you took it literally and fell into a mindset that went against everything you were taught.

Your mother taught you to love yourself, to know thyself, and to respect life in all its complexity.

 

So why did you hold on to the negativity?

You never say never, yet now you are saying it now.

Never did you need their approval.

 

They were in the background.

Your father’s sister hid your family picture on your grandmother’s deathbed.

The others the distant relatives you once knew were kind, yet the ones that were the closest  wished that you would fall behind.

 

But you could never fall because you were born from Grace and your life would be filled

With love and loss and you would rise again from a broken heart.

Family as you knew it would never be the same.

 

You would learn that family is only a small part of your lineage and your line, but you must find a way to love despite the deep seated pain.

And so I did.

All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover

Zoom

Hours have flown by, minutes have crawled
There’s only one thing to do:
Take up the pen, get writing again
The warm-up’s done, so now follow through

Somehow, between four, and six-thirty,
I blinked, and the clock hands jumped.
Get writing again, take up the pen
I’ve proved in this that I won’t stay stumped.

And now, with ‘Z’, my theme is complete
Neatly mapped form and order
Take up the pen, get writing again
I’ll see you on the Avlem border.

 

Form: ZaniLa Rhyme

Prompt 30: A 70s Pop Rock Anthem

Do you need a reason;

To let your world unfold?

Do you need a reason:

Why?

Do you need a purpose;

To let your dreams be known?

Do you need  a reason to;

Fly?

Hold on to your self.

Hold on to your higher self.

Let your dreams take flight.

Find the courage to see why.

Only you will know,

What you really want.

Answer what you want inside

Answer what you want:

And fly.

See your self arrive.

See your self take up new wings.

Rise above the stormy sky.

Rise above the clouds of doubt.

Spread your wings and learn to fly.

Rise above and you’ll see;

Why.

 

 

Farewell Yellow Brick Road

The sun awakens giving way to the reality of a new day 
The path that led dreams to be real - Led fears to have breath 
has now past away
The time passed through imagination 
have led to this moment to depart
Walking along with writers and idealist 
bringing life to art.
The promise to achieve has been realized 
and today I said, "Thank You" as I depart


Farewell
All that you gave me was real 
Farewell
The road was long but worthy

Farewell Yellow Brick Road
The journey has been no less than beautiful 
and my stories are now told

jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon