The Poetry Marathon

Rain (Poem #15)

The thunder rolls

The lightning strikes

As the rain begins to pour

Rivers begin to flow down the streets

Flowers become covered with little crystals of rain drops

The clouds so dark and gloomy

Yet the sun still peeking through to say good morning

With the blink of an eye

The silver lining

The sun beginning to break the clouds open

Darkness

no more engulfing the earth

Light

beginning to break open the seal

The new day beginning

Hope that the day won’t end

The thunder speaking in the silence

The lightening showing the unseen

The rain expressing the intimacy

between me and the unknown

Rivers in the street of my passions beginning to move

It’s happening

I know why I love the rain

And everything that comes with it

I love the rain

Because it is a dance

It expresses how I feel

It is intimate and deep

It is complex yet simple

I will never fully understand it

But I love the rain

Wild Flowers, a story of weeds

Cement, plaster, iron and glass

man’s permanent structures sure faded fast

So glad we’re together, so glad we know

that a garden well tended will eventually grow

it may take a while, even long years

expect a few tangent’s, a few well paced tears

but we know some deep magic, between you and I

there are seed banks and aquafers under this sky

conserve what we can, that much we’ve learned

take care of the land, before it’s all burned

out and empty. No more delay

They said it would happen, some counted the day

Others they laughed and dove deeper into the void

Mother Earth was annoyed

she spewed and she spat, but she wasn’t destroyed

the pumpers and frackers, the excess of want

detritus now, the fats cats grown gaunt

service economy, dichotomy revolt

Kudza eats the houses, the ground swallows whole

all things not necessary, created below

the sky and the sun, the breast of the snow

through the cracks in cement the flowers still grow

 

Poem 16 “What Can You Do with Formless?”

What Can You Do with Formless?”  by Mandy Austin Cook

The Message

What did the serpent whisper

that split the world asunder

in that distant, long-past time?

He chose his words carefully,

knowing that the future mayhem of this planet

depended on the words he spoke.

Clever, diabolical being —

He leaned close to the cave man’s ear

and said the words that would divide

humans throughout history:

“You’re better than them.”

(Hour 15) 12.30pm-13.30pm. PROMPT, The End. Poem set during the apocalypse.

the rules are there are no rules

We gotta get away
We don’t know what they want
You say they might be able to help
But we don’t know that
We can never know that again

Stella’s right
I don’t know what trust means
How can I? Hope can she?
We’ve only just met.

Yes I see the irony
Saying we shouldn’t do
What we two did only a few hours ago
But that felt diff/

sudden noise — wild fury — the man’s back
— he has a shot gun — pointed at us
demands the ute — Stella is screaming
I feel like crying — don’t know what to do

Put the gun down, I plead
No!
At least point it away from us.
No!
If I give you the keys, will you let us go?
One of you maybe.

He looks at Stella.
I know his thoughts.

Okay okay I say
I’m just putting my hands
in my pocket to get the keys

& then you’ll let us go.
Sure, sure.
I know he’s lying. We all do.

Hurl the keys as far as I can — away
from us — over his head — he turns
to chase — grab Stella — drag her
toward the ute — get in, get in
— but the keys/ she begins
My house keys, let’s go.

Thankfully despite the chaos
I get the key in the lock
Start it swiftly & head south
All the while fearing
Shattering glass, exploding rubber
Or even a flaming fireball
(We’ve all seen Hollywood)

We’re away. We almost laugh/
Two booms. Quick succession.
Silence. Two hearts beat.
The ute seems unscathed.
We drive on.

Neither of us speak for many miles

This land (Prompt 17)

its said earth was Gods gift to us

Like our bodies

its the only way our souls can live

 

the sky smells of wonder, the land pours sacrifices decimating droughts.

mankind’s hurdles have made it difficult to experience places our eyes have never seen before

 

living is never soul-less

its never pure

despite our birthed promises

we claim lands already gifted to us

like rugs left in hallways

our eyes should ache from the smoke scents of our burning earth

Prompt 15 erasure: going dormant…doormat

going dormant…doormat

 

 

The Rhythm, Hour 15

The Void yawned, exhaling a vacuum
Not space but the absence thereof
Not darkness but the absence of light
An empty space welcoming the all-that-is
The universal balance of opposites

In the beginning, there was no separation
No start and no end
A mass conglomeration of dark light,
Underground skies,
Burning ice,
Pitch black day and blinding bright night
Everything wrong perfectly right

Then deep within, a conflict
Disharmony
Division
A fracture across the grand unification
Masculine pulls from feminine
Dark from light
Matter from emptiness

The duality created turmoil
Created motion
Created the ebb and flow
The grand expansion and contraction
The instigation of rhythm into the stillness
And the beat goes on…

And on…

And on…

No Word, Just Chocolate (H13)

the crispy sweet
shell protects the
dark center
until it cracks
it sure wears better on an M&M

Learning

When I was 8 years old

My mother taught me how to sew

Pushing and pulling the needle through the fabric making clean near stitches

I picked at the loose frayed hole of my sweater

on a rainy day in November

And the rain drops kissed the concrete and the sky was as grey as your eyes

I thought I could fix us, like I could fix my sweater

Pushing and pulling the needle through making

Tight neat stitches

holding it together

keeping us together