8. Sevenling(She Stayed)
You made it simple to understand
Be honest, be earnest, and never forget why you’re here
You’ve remained ever by my side
Because I loved you in those ways
Never forgetting
Why you married me
Moonbeam Coffee
Hour Ten
Moonbeam Coffee
Moonbeam Coffee
they call it.
You know who I’m talkin’ bout,
them damn hippies who ruined everything.
One of these foggy days they might
end up with a pair of cement shoes
taking one long step off the end of the dock,
if ya get my gist.
I rattled ‘round Nam
boots, canteen, army greens
dreamed of comin’ back to these
cedars and firs, had to
put my life on a shelf.
Then ol’ lazy Sullivan cross the street
moved down to the coast, hell if he ever served.
Now his kids come back and make
his barn the Moonbeam Roastatarium.
So what if I grew some weed
in my dad’s ol’ barn.
I paid my dues and guy’s
gotta get by somehow.
Now them damn kids are shinin’ a light on me,
right across the street.
So just hush up when I give them
a reason to wish they’d stayed in that hippie town
they call the City of Subdued Excitement
or some damn thing.
I’ll give em’ something to get excited about.
Bad Date (Prompt 13, Hour 10)
The moonbeams danced with the fog,
Giving the boat dock a haunted look.
Nervous laughter broke the hush of the night.
The girl looked at her date and whispered,
“I have to pee.”
He snickered. “TP’s on the shelf in the shed.
Pee behind the fir over yonder.”
He gestured to the right of the shed,
where old concrete blocks stacked up against the fir.
She dropped the canteen of coffee at his feet,
Muttering to herself, “Damn girl, never again.”
Hard Luck!
Night has fallen, not one Moonbeam can pierce the fog,
That has slowly closed in around me.
I’ve had my fishing pole off the shelf for awhile now,
Surely something will bite,
For my line has been in the water for what seems like an eternity!
Enjoying the last of my hot coffee
Out of my canteen, as coyotes howl into the night.
All is still now, as a hush falls across the mighty fir trees,
that surround this massive Lake
Waves almost lull me to sleep as they lap to shore with ease.
Guess I might pack it in as this is going pretty slow.
the only bites I’m getting are from the hungry swarm of damn mosquitoes!
Oh for Pete’s sake, got my sock wet as I slipped off my rock.
Walking back in the misty darkness my pained voice echoes to and fro.
For i have managed to stub my toe on the concrete dock!
I’M DONE!!!!
Silence
The symbol of peace
An act of protest
Could make you strong
Or make you weak
Could build relations
And destroy them too
If used wisely
It could solve things
Bring change
But be careful
If used foolishly
It could be the most destructive weapon
Let’s Run This Canteen
An hour before dawn,
A glimmer of moonbeam
Slides through the rolling fog
Like the aroma of coffee lifts from my mug.
Time to turn on the lights, fire up the grill
Check the tables are ready to open the doors.
Grab my mug from the shelf as I head to the dock.
Ahhh, smell that rich steam.
Enjoy the hush and be grateful.
Let’s run this “Canteen”
Hour 10
procrastination
moonbeams bouncing off brown skin
brown coffee sits on my bedside table
the kind of hush that you can only find after 2am
you, resting peacefully
the consistent rise & fall of your chest
your delicate snores
a reminder of your presence
a reminder of this love
me, typing quickly
regretting my procrastination as the hours fly by
closer and closer to my deadline
outside the window i see fog kissing the grass
boundary between land and sky temporarily erased
if only it were that damn easy to break down borders
i take a sip of coffee
the warmth runs down my throat
i smile to myself and continue typing
soon i’ll be done with this paper and wrapped in the warmth of you
Hogs? HOGS!
Nature didn’t make’em pretty,
with mottled fur and sneering snouts.
Nature didn’t give’em lovely noises,
all snarls, and squeals, and grunts.
But she knows her job and so,
She made them tough as nuts.
With beady eyes and floppy ears,
they lurk in sounders in the brush.
When hunger overtakes them,
They move on my chickens in a rush.
But this is our farm, and in Texas,
when shove comes to push.
So of course we have a shotgun,
with such insolence to crush.
My wife strode out with robe and gun,
Because she’s a better shot.
Leveled her barrel, pulled the trigger,
And down the biggest boar was brought.
It thrashed and stilled and out of it spilled
A heaping pile of hog-snot.
Now my youngest child pleads and grabs my hand
Daddy don’t let hogs get me, please.
No, baby, never fear hogs on mommy’s land.
Weekend Getaway
Campfires rage in a steel cold night.
Coffee by the fireside and music that is right.
The hush of the fog makes everything else stand still
The moonbeam through the fir trees make the darkness more real.
Just inside the cabin window there a canteen on the shelf
Left behind from the day he said, “I have to find myself”
Securing the canoe at the concrete buoy to leave it at the dock
They took the night to sit together and forget about the clocks.
They didn’t give a damn when the awoke and found that they were there all night
They looked at one another and laughed at the pain because love had made it all right.
jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon
Hour 10
The world fades away.
I am a pair of eyes
until my cats snuggle with me.
I am nestled in a forest of worries
and my failures I am unable to lift from
our shoulders.
Still, he loves me.
I write and rewrite.
Taking notes, placing orange post its all over my desk,
music continues to play. Netflix is heard from the next room.
I stretch my mind and stretch again.
Still, the page always listens.