The Poetry Marathon

2wenty 2wo word harvest

2wenty 2wo word harvest

 

early peas so welcomed

the first to go

dry desperate tendrils

grasping

the wiry metal fence

then yanked

without a thank you

 

withered vines break

in the wind

frost bitten

red tomatoes intoxicated

into jars

for deep winter meals

and perhaps

a blue ribbon

 

the last

green bumpy cucumber

waits alone

her young children abducted

pickles she sobs

dill I believe

humans can be

so cruel

 

anxious zucchini

hopes for a pie

no one is coming

for you

september is over

and you’re boring

so much for success

 

the growing is done

time to go

warns the crow

not for me

cries the four-eyed potato

Thanksgiving

they’ll be back

 

 

TobeTT  #22

I was a Wandering (Hermit) Crab

Prompt 29 Hour 23

Write a poem about your childhood

 

1. My friend’s childhood memories seem so drab,

Contrast to my childhood – ‘coz I was like a wandering hermit crab,

2. Born a Cancerian – Crab being the sunsign symbol,

Through the years I have had many a fall and stumble,

3. Our family had to cope with the “transferable job” my father had,

Leaving a just-settled-home was always sad,

4. Upon each new job posting, we had a new house in a new town,

New school with new friends, life full of up and down,

5. Nomadic life taught this Crab valuable lessons,

To stay strong and count only the blessings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me

I

Born to urban parents
decidedly not
of, with nature
living in a duplex

growing up
I ran safe, middle class
streets with abandon
and other kids

played ball in the park
took bike treks
went bowling

II

By the time I
was six
in summer I was
shipped off to The Lake

retirement oasis for
family friends
my pseudo grandparents

I was enraptured
with all
the woods, the water
had to offer

walking dirt roads
hiking through
primeval forest
playing with frogs
fishing

summers were always
much too short

III

Growing up
moving away from
all-of-the-above

I worked in small towns
my parents
when visiting
found quaint, peculiar

as they did my
affection and affinity
for these locales
lifestyle

IV

I eventually returned
to the city life
married a girl from
the country

who preferred leaving
the past in the past

my affinity to
woods, water
assuaged by occasional
camping trips

temporary, junkie fix
of pine, birch, dirt

V

My time
in the woods now
limited

my family not
attuned as I am
to anything not urban

chameleon like
I can
do flannel shirts
as easily as
Oxford and tie

in need of solitude
I guess I just need
to go it alone

old school it
tent, sleeping bag
firewood, frying pan

can of Spam
block of cheese

VI

For now all I can do
is remember

sitting here
chair at desk
open windows

amidst cacophony of
city sounds

my denouement
is to type a
love poem to

the woods
The Lake

expressing my youthful
appreciation
older man gratitude

Love,
Me

 

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Fur Robert

Finding a way to reach you-

that’s what I really wish for.

Don’t avoid my questions,

I know you have answers.

 

I badly need to read your mind,

stop hiding from me and my heart!

I love your wonderful smile and

I miss holding you in my arms.

Country Girl

Chickens were my truest friends.
I spent hours talking to those hens. 
While the rooster crowed and strut about, 
the hens and I would hash it out. 

I made other friends- a skunk or two, 
a baby owl, some bunnies too. 
I tried to rescue baby birds, 
fallen from nests or somehow hurt. 

When I was 9 we moved away 
and I remember to this day
I so loved being a country girl. 
That move forever changed my world. 

I never was the same again.
I still miss those animals I called friends. 

Child’s World

Child’s world

1. The cat calls from friends alert my mind

And off we are to our

Imaginary treasure hunting grounds

Fighting goblins and ghosts on the way

Bickering over sharing pocketed food

Till our limbs move no more

 

2. Making castles of sand and clay

And rescuing the princess

Is my favorite

Rushing through danger

Slaying demons and villains

I’m always the unconquered hero

 

3. Study is pushed inside the school bag

Till mother’s intent gaze become intolerable

Then excuses…

But severely dealt with

Always feel hungry while reading

And everything becomes normal again

 

Hour 23

@varenyas

The Stroke of Seven

In the gathering gloom she waited

ran with the foxes

collected eggs from the wild

 

Dawned the sun

hour upon hour until the dusk

the buses ran

 

she watched and at the stroke of seven slept

Childhood Thoughts [Prompt 29]

1) The smiling little girl;

She grew up to sing …

3. Pie in Sky Banana Dream

“Banana Cream Dream” pie is a precursor to much more than a treat.

It is a marker of simpler times.

Not decadent or overly sweet.

It evokes memories made by hand.

It must be eaten in the week.

Bananas can be smooth and luxurious.

Power packed with energy.

Cream and shaved almonds are blended in its allure.

I’ve traded the richness of a cake for pie.

Marking my maturation and graduation.

From  a birthday celebration all grown up.

After 41 years on this earth there is so much

More I want to know and I’ve cone to appreciate.

I think I’ll be satisfied with just one slice.

If I can share a bite with you,

It’s perfect really, extra nice .

Hour 23 – Shoot the Moon

Shoot the Moon

1.
I was four years old the summer
when astronauts landed on the moon.
My brothers and I
knelt close to our black and white screen
for hours.
I was excited because they were excited.

But the actual moon walk took place
after midnight local time.
I couldn’t stay awake.
and was so pissed that no one woke me up to see it.

2.
Later my family was discussing a trip
we had taken to the zoo.
My little brain mixed up the words
“zoo” and “moon.”
Soon I was picturing tunnels under
the surface of the moon
filled with cages of tigers and zebras.

For a long time, I was convinced,
inside my own head,
that I, a four-year-old child,
had been aboard a mission to moon.

3.
In school
the teachers would roll out
the big television sets on carts
whenever something big was happening
on one of the missions to the moon.

One time we got to watch a splashdown.
“Splashdowns are my favorite part,”
I assured my first-grade teacher.

As a teacher now
I realize
the TVs were not for us
or for any educational value.
The teachers just wanted to watch it themselves.

4.
My brothers were into model rockets.
They built them from kits, inserted engines,
and shot them off.
I was always part
of the ground recovery crew.

One year we took a trip out west
in our old station wagon
pulling a camper trailer.
We saw a sign for the Estes Factory,
the very kits my brothers made.

My dad pulled into the lot,
and they gave a tour
just for our family.

At the end, we got to shoot off a rocket.
This time,
I got to press the button.

At least, that is how I remember it.