The Poetry Marathon

2019 – Fourteen – “The Other Place” From Prompt 17, Hour 14

I sometimes go back to the beginning,
to the Sandhills
where I was born,
wild expanses of Nebraska prairie
where I don’t have to speak.
Where no one is left of those
who had known my name.
There is a windmill
and the ruins of a sod house
on the far hill,
I played there as a child,
not knowing that it was
to my grandfather
what his house was to me.
The road is long gone now,
washed down into the valley,
being sand,
and the bricks of the soddy
are just lines in the dirt.
I park my car behind the old barn
near the old Hollibaugh farm
and follow the old ruts.
For a mile they
run, weaving across
the valley floor,
past the rusting ruins
of the cars my grandfather
bought to fill in a ditch.
Wrecks with shot-out
old windows and
flecks of old chrome
leering up out of the ground
beneath the cottonwood trees
in the dry, hot day.
At last at the crest of the hill
the rattle and thunk
of the windmill calls me
over the locked gate
and up to the tank
and I stop to drink from
the blood of the land
that flows
at the call of the wind.
Though I do not love
city life and would leave if
I could,
until I can, which I cannot,
there is a place where I can go
and drink and be still
in the haze of the prairie,
I know that that old mill
and the ruins of the house
will always welcome me back
because,
unlike the city,
the land knows you, even when you’re lost.

Familiar Ground

I am feeling homesick for a land I used to know;

It was the land my mother knew; in her time of youth did grow.

Her journey took her far from there, to move into the city,

But her heart always felt at home where crickets played their ditty.

Often times the city life would cave right in on her,

And she just felt as lost as an abandoned bird.

We would visit there, gathering blackberries from their bush,

And we would always hear the loud, dry leaves from autumn, crush.

It was always hard to see those hills covered in snow,

For backroads were not cleared, save from the sunlight’s glow.

But when the winter broke, and springtime came acallin’

You would find us there, when new life burst forth with bawlin’.

My Mother would linger far in walks along the land,

And climb the hill to decorate the graves of those so grand.

Sometimes I would go with her, and hear her stories well,

Of the land that held her heart and bore her footprints in its dell.

I must go back and visit soon, without my Mother’s lead–

For she has joined those grand ones, but the land remembers me.

 

Shattered Night

The glass shatters

As he fell through the night

The world fell away

As he tumbled for his life

The pinpoints of light

From far away stars

Looked so beautiful

As he plummeted

To the ground

Hour fourteen: Can you see?

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
that the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion,
a home and a country should leave us no more!

Dread silence reposes what the battle was for,
but dawn’s early light undoes the illusion–
a blood-spattered flag, an uncivil war.

The free and the brave safeguard their shore
from the tired and hungry who ask for inclusion–
a home and a country should leave us no more!

Still, we fight to protect our American lore
against those who notice its long desolation–
a blood-spattered flag, an uncivil war–

and our own huddled masses, our own aching poor,
are left on the street like human pollution–
a home and a country should leave us no more!

This land is damaged, right down to the corps
of freemen who stand and salute our delusion,
our blood-spattered flag, our uncivil wars–
a home and a country should leave us no more!

Sober Friend

Sober Friend

 

Grieving without wine

I became the sober friend

Without intention I hear

The ice in their glasses

When I answer the phone

 

It is almost all of them

And I am surprised

Belonging to this club

For years knowing

The phone was a trigger

 

Thinking I am missing

I try to imbibe only

To find my glass half

Full in the morning

Virtually untouched

 

I will not go back

As it is a slippery slope

I am only too familiar

Confusing drink with

Sadness I stay clear

 

TobeTT  # 15

(Hour 14) 11.30am-12.30pm. PROMPT, Use quote to jump off.

The land knows you,
even when you are lost

calls you home
even after years

enduring countless
cold mornings

watching sideways
as the garden grows

out of the dark black
mulch of night

horizons start to hover
against the light

trees creep, tiptoe up
assume silhouette status 

the wind shakes off its shadows
rocks shudder away overcoats

at last  a reason to rise
as the earth                  tilts

Morning Coffee

A hush had fallen over the house

electric coffee pot brewing

grab the canteen from the shelf

fill to fuel your adventure for the day

as you survey the fog

hovering over the concrete blocks

down by the dock

silvery in the moonlight

waning as the sun appears in the east

inhale the scent of fir

Damn! It’s good to be alive!

Eternal Mother

The land knows you, even when you are lost
-Robin Wall-Kimmerer

While wandering
I lost my way
But I found I did not care

The trees unfamiliar
The trail long gone
But still I did not care

I laid down in the moss and leaves
Staring at the sky
I have no will to care

The earth embraced me
Cradling and soothing me
Whispering that there is no need to care

I am loved
I am remembered
This land will always care

The Land Knows You

The land knows you, even when you are lost.
It does not forget, and neither does it forgive.
Do not abandon it, even at great cost.

When winter comes with brutal frost
You are challenged to persevere and survive.
The land knows you, even when you are lost.

And when spring arrives, great rivers to be crossed,
The land will give what it has to give.
Do not abandon it, even at great cost.

But summer – summer! with banners embossed
That rambles and provides for all things festive –
The land knows you, even when you are lost.

Autumn, of the harvest, demands you accost
All that’s held you back and kept you passive.
Do not abandon it, even at great cost.

Do not believe that the land will never exhaust.
It knows how much it takes to live.
The land knows you, even when you are lost.
Do not abandon it, even at great cost.

The land knows you, even when you are lost

Take me to the land
Where you reside
Hold me by my hand
Where you’re by my side
I want to hide
In your arms
Inside

But do not worry for me at any cost..
My love! the land knows you, even when you are lost!

Lost if I am in this foreign land,
Lush green fields are the guide
Welcoming me with open hand

Again our paths crossed..
Hurray! the land knows you, even when you are lost!

Travel makes me feel free
Brings out in me an impish glee
About nothing you have to worry

Everywhere I have my foot-marks embossed..
And so, the land knows you, even when you are lost!