The Poetry Marathon

Hospital Time (Hour 19)

A three-year-old shivers unbeknownst
to what is causing his body to spasm involuntarily.
The horrors of the sad, clown-faced parents
exhausted, humorless, their internalized torture
exudes an aura that suffocates the pale, tremored
waters of the hospital room.

Sitting alone in shadowed corners
feeling the weight of a marriage dissolve
as worry for our small child lingers over
the dull cadence of a heart monitor’s finite calculations.
Waiting to hear but nothing is ever promised.
The sway of information, up and down,
we cling to any bit of hope offered.
Bargaining the entire world away to save one life
to see you safe…
our child.

Apologies

Sorry for the pain
Accept my apology
Emotions blinded me
Didn’t see the destruction
Didn’t see your tears
or heard your voice
Ignored the signs

There is still time
I will make it up to you
This won’t happen again
I am sorry for treating you like garbage
My body
We will become BFFs now…

Peacock

 

Prompt 26 – Hour 21

The sky darkens, the wind blows

The peacock feathers bloom like a rose…

Droplets pitterpatter on the window pane

The peacock dances gracefully in the rain…

Worshipped by Roman, Hindu, Greek, Christian forefathers

The peacock flaunts its vibrant feathers…

Symbol of royalty, immortality, luck and gain

The peacock beautifully prances in vain…

 

 

 

 

Knowing It

If I correct anything for

my autobiography written

by the Gods

(and soon to be

forgotten regardless)

Let it be this:

That despite all my faults

executive disfunction and

demotivation

I really did try

Unicorn’s Pride

Unicorn’s pride

The white unicorn waits, suppressing its breath

For its gladiator to rise

Snorting in between to nudge him

Together had they won many a battle

Over plains and valleys, over kings and allies

It knows how strong a heart master has

And this was surely not the end to rattle

It circled around a few times with master on its back

And a fiery look dazzled as they charged for their prey

Yet, one more time their power flashed at the bend

 

Hour 21

@varenyas

Tall Cats Are Terrible Hunters (2019 Poem 21)

We’ve been together
For a while now
It’s time we talked

I’ve nursed you
Back to health
And bathed you

Gave you cuddles
Rubbed your tummy
When you’re sad

Lucky you’re adorable
You’re absolutely helpless
Frightened of a moth

As for spiders?
Don’t even get me started
So I brought you supper

It’s more nutritious
Than that disgusting stuff
You call crunchy num nums

17. The Messenger XVII

I travel, travel, travel again

This year is a big travel

Around the World

And beyond, way beyond

The bird always go back to the nest

They say, but I am not even sure

Only thing I know is

I come from another planet

I am here on Earth to discover

What is love and how

To get it back to my planet

I am on a very long mission

That Quest has only

Got started

I travel a big travel again

What language do you dance?

Bedrock

Long before our hearts met

There was hidden camaraderie

Between our eyes

In shared laughter

Stolen glances

Inside jokes

Hyperbolic hilarity

Tempered with tangible truth

 

Marco (prompt 26, Hour 21)

My cat crept into my heart on little fog feet. I saw him born, but
he knew long before I did that we were meant for each other.
Why shouldn’t cats know in the way humans know
a relationship is lasting? He did.
He showed me love is a gift, not earned.
He gave me the joy of recognition each time I entered a room
He taught me that he loved gravy more than food.
He let me know that he was more important than my computer
simply by stretching out between the keyboard and the screen.
He hunted wild mice fiercely to prove he could provide.
He trusted me. With purity and unquestioning love.
It made me a better person, living up to his belief.

He had nine lives that big grey lug. And he used up eight
before he let me know he was about to go.
He was 21 when he died, as trusting as he had ever been.
His frail old body too weak to move, he could no longer lick.
His fur matted. I knew he didn’t like that.
So with him lying on a pad, too feeble to lift his head,
I brought hot water and a cloth to bathe him.
I could almost see him smile.
Then I swaddled him in towels to keep him warm.
When I returned a few minutes later, his little life was gone.
Born in my bedroom, and died in my bedroom.

He knew when to sit in my lap and comfort me,
and he knew when to give me space. We grew old together.
Maybe that’s why I still think at times I glimpse him
coming through a doorway, or walking into the kitchen.
I half expect him to jump up on the bed and use my arm
for a pillow. He left a hole another animal will not fill.
Maybe that’s why I have his ashes in my closet still.
Only a pet lover will understand.

Hour 21 – Firefly Reflections

Firefly Reflections

 

A faulty screen allowed the firefly

to make his way, one night, into my room.

After a bit of daze, and questions why,

about the chamber he began to zoom

 

Soon enough he found the glass mirror’s shine

and gamely studied his reflection there.

Did he see someone equally as fine?

Or only a rival’s repugnant stare?

 

We know ourselves when our image we see

and grasp, a bit, how the science works.

But do we like our twin, this devotee?

Or see only our blemishes and marks?