The Poetry Marathon

Dear Old Self

You should have said no when they asked you to lie
Or screamed to their faces it’s their fault, don’t be shy

You should have bought your father slippers on the time it’s needed
Maybe he’d be happier would have bragged and smiled

Remember when the old man expected you to give
You overlooked what he needed you were so insensitive

Should have been more careful when you were pregnant with your child
Maybe she would have been here the family isn’t sad

You should have been this and you should have been that
More regrets coming in hurting pain makes you flat

Dear old self may you learn from all those “have beens”
And this time, oh this time make sure your life wins.

Adieu

Well it’s been fun and interesting too!

Alas, this last prompt I shall not do.

My mind is weary, my words are coming slow.

I bid you all adieu,  for now I must go!

I will have fun reading other’s works.

I look forward to the rest as the sunset lurks.

I’ve so enjoyed this opportunity again!

Thank you to the Jan’s, for now, so long friends!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12 – Her

She is a period. Period.

Sometimes, she is an exclamation point, but not before she is a period.

She is empty quotation marks… for days.

She is, ” I’ll call you right back”   ellipses

She is, “My phone died”   period.

She is the newest stranger in my life.

I am learning she always has been.

 

Taahira

Sometimes, when two people meet, their souls recognize each other instantly

I am not talking about romantic love

This is not a fairy tale

Friendships can last a lifetime

Even if the other person lives half a world away

From two cultures, so different from each other

Two life experiences influenced by different things

We met on a hike

The sun was shining

She was with all her friends

I knew no one there

She was friendly, she was warm

And I determined to be brave

Years have passed

We have fought, we have cried, we have spent years apart

But we are still together

In spirit, in heart

When two people love and respect each other, distance means nothing

We get each other, despite our differences

And we both know our goodbyes are never forever

سلام آپ کے ساتھ ہو میرے دوست(Peace be with you my friend)

میں ہمیشہ تمہارے ساتھ ہوں (I am with you always)

Words (Hour 12)

Words spoken never erased,

Leaving a sweet or poisonous taste.

Words typed in haste, need to have pause.

Writing in anger, ’tis not a good cause.

Reading words which make you wish,

You could wash your brain in a dish.

Watch warily where your eye go,

Whether words will haunt you,

It’s hard to know.

Entry 12 Half-Marathon 02.00 EU time – War Mothers

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How strong these mothers are, their arms

hard as steel as they lift their toddlers

out of the war-clogged streets.  Yes, the streets

no longer know what to vomit – blood, cries,

faces that have lost hope; shoes, clothes,

haphazardly gathered belongings in old bags.

Yes, the bags are always old, the hair is always

grey, the dust always refuses to settle; the eyes

dart left and right, afraid to look forward, afraid

of what is behind.

 

The voices are always angry.  The voices want

to kill.  The feet do not want to die, not yet.  It

is movement they seek, forward movement,

knowing there is nothing to return to, no wall,

no roof, no door.  What one wants is a floor

to sit on and a window to look out of.  Windows

make one an observer; then one is only part of the

audience and has nothing to do with the street.

But the mothers will always be desperate.  Always.

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Chip (hour 12)

chip- one little movement
chip- one little moment
chip- one little minute
Like a game of Jenga
Life crashes around me

Your Happy Beginning

poem 12

It all seemed
so beautifully simple
when you stood there
watching him dance
and you smiled like
you had captured starlight.
I wish I could take you back there
and give you your happy beginning.

-h.e.m.

The Secret Garden

Long forgotten

neglected

beautiful in its chaos

she turned the key and pushed

gasping, she sensed a kindred spirit

something tangible that was as wild as she felt inside

as she brought it back to life

the garden returned the favor

Take Flight

I am grasping the art of flight.

It might be a different method

than you think,

no machinery or wings required.

 

I prep the airy path

behind my eyes and down the throat’s runway;

the pre-flight check

is buzzing and complete.

 

A magic air strides through my lungs.

I take my leave of the common and mundane.

I greenly fly. I’m more alive

than life.

 

I land next to you.

 

J. Pratt-Walter

6/22/2019