The Poetry Marathon

Dear Dad,

I hope this letter finds you at peace. I realize that you haven’t heard from me in a long time. In fact, I only realized a few days ago that you have been gone for thirty years now. Do you realize that’s in my life, you’ve been gone longer than you were here?

Do you see Duane? Or Denis? Or Karen? Or Sandy? Mom is fine, she takes good care of herself and is as fiercely independent as ever. It’ amazes me that she is 93 and is still taking care of herself, and Gery and Mike. Well, all of us really, one way or the other.

One day, I will tell people how terrible liver cancer is. I will tell people that you succumbed to cancer, but you were diseased long before the cancer took your life.

You will be happy to know that I no longer yell, It hurts more than it helps. I wish you taught me that, but I learned from the negative example. I learned to do the opposite.

My memories are faulty and unpleasant. I don’t really know if they are actual memories. I don’t remember. I never think of you anymore.

I’m sure I will see you so, or at least soon enough. Take care of yourself.

Love,

Laurie

 

schitzo-espistolary

Dear Death,

Fuck you.

Dear Cancer,

Fuck you too!

Dear Addiction,

I’m hunting you down.  It is the end my friend.

 

Dear Guilt,

Keep trying.

Dear Anger,

Please go. Fade away.

Dear Shame,

Not Today!

 

Dear Body,

Please stop fucking hurting.

 

Dear Heart,

I am sorry. Please don’t miss a beat

Dear Mind,

Don’t worry.

Dear Soul,

Keep growing.  Seek the light.

 

Dear Voice,

Sing softly through the night.

Dear Hands.

Get down the words, take time for drawing.

 

Dear Children,

I love you.  To infinity and beyond.

Dear Memories,

Be Kind.

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

Bang (2019 Poem 15)

Bang, universe explodes
Time races, gas expands out to infinity
Who set that time bomb off
Did anyone mourn its passing

Ocean of souls exists
Outside of time and space
Do you ebb as the oceans do
Pulled by an invisible god moon

Expansion slows
Time stands still for an endless moment
Maybe then the universe can think
Will we be sucked in like breath before a sneeze

Reclaiming the Land

Reclaiming the land, stone by stone
Raising a path into the waves
Where travellers may walk to shore
And bring their wares from far away

A weary process, to the sure
Reclaiming the land, stone by stone
Yet now that it’s done, it will stand
For many generations more.

There are grander things built daily
But we are still proud of our work
Reclaiming the land, stone by stone
Was a long and difficult task

A passion project for the town
Temperating nature with nature
Artists and builders and dreamers
Reclaiming the land, stone by stone

Form: Quatern

Prompt:

18 – Dear Dreamer

Dear Dreamer,

Hi come in, its okay l’m not crazy, I’m a poet, welcome to my imagination,

it is full of odd socks, a collection of bones, not a full skeleton, but close, the memory of

my first kiss wrapped in nostelgia, my parents divorce, grandpa’s hugs, the bully who

made me fierce, the sound of the ocean tangled in a storm, kookaburras laugh, tall grasses

the bsmellof eucalypts after the rain, words half written, forgotten and lost, come in

and explore me, the last great unkown,

 

 

 

Dear Future Me

If, by some twist of fate you’re happy,

Don’t read on.

I’ve dreamed of long solitary cafe nights

Blued by neons and rain, bitter coffee in hand,

Letting shallow sorrow in and forgetting regret.

I’ve dreamed of future love and future pain,

And those ghosts aren’t born yet,

But they linger around already.

I hope you’ve met your man. That you have

Left behind that shoebox of old sorrow

And started dancing in the kitchen again.

I’ve dreamed of a family, a life, a home,

And life is a battlefield, but I hope you’ve

Never had to fight it alone.

Dear future me, read this,

Know you’ve already won.

Hour 18 – Goldilocks

Goldilocks

Three members of the family Ursidae
Mater, Pater, and their little son
The porridge hot, decide not to stay
Went for a walk, having eaten none

A little lass with hair a golden hue
Vagrant, she infiltrated their small house
Ate up their food, broke chairs, and then she strew
Bedclothes and other items thereabouts

The bears, arriving home, beheld the scene
A house in ruins, such a shock to find
The neat abode, so tidy and so clean
Wrecked by one child, unmannered and unkind

When talking bears and human children meet
Trouble follows, and that not incomplete

Dear Sock, Hour 18

You miserable thing,
Full of holes and stinking

Why can’t I throw you away?

Your partner is gone
Lost in dryer’s abyss
But still you persist
Why?
What is the reason for your existence?

Why must you lie there on the floor,
Smugly stinking, totally useless

You piece of shit

Dear Ken, My Older Brother

I have to say, “I’m sorry” for the bratty things I did

When we were so much younger, living under the same lid.

I hated you for being the one with all the answers,

I even hated you when you had a date for dances.

I didn’t want to go to your high school graduation;

It wasn’t my idea of an event for celebration.

But as I’ve gotten older, and hopefully matured,

My love for you has changed from those earlier, sad years.

Now, I see the value of having siblings, older

To pave the way ahead, so I could face them bolder.

You were my example of so many things you did,

I didn’t think I could compete–you were way too big.

But as the years have added, I see you in a light

I never saw before, and I wish that we were tight.

I wish we lived much closer than a two-hour drive,

So we could see each other more often, and confide.

I feel that we have missed an opportunity

To experience a closeness in others, that I see.

But hopefully, we can make the best of what is left–

So when we leave this life, we leave with no regret.

To My Dear Poetry Marathon

 

Prompt 22, Hour 18

 

23 June 2019,

Pune, India.

Dear Poetry Marathon,

Since past 18 hours, Creativity is full-on,

You have Ignited our Poetic Minds,

Released us from boring daily grinds,

You have taken us on a thrilling ride,

Through Dreams, Aspirations, Perspectives deep and wide,

Thank you Poetry Marathon,

For this Beautiful Innovative-Dawn !

Yours Rhymingly,

Poetesssss.