The Poetry Marathon

Just Like San Simeon Blues

The cancer center housing is in an area famous for its transformation by the high-tech industry from a family neighborhood to soulless acres of high-rises. I became addicted to my daily walks there, hoping to find visually interesting details to capture with my cell phone camera.

One day, I walked a block east from my usual route, and was startled to see steady streams of people entering into a wooded area close to the freeway. Could there be a park in the area? The mature evergreens made a stark contrast to the spindly street trees on other blocks.

Pedestrians in the rest of the neighborhood were relatively scarce, too, on the weekends, even though those high-rises must have housed many thousands of young workers. But here were these ant-like lines of people, purposefully heading towards this green mecca. I followed them in, expecting to see a familiar park info bulletin board. A few yards within the green enclosure, I discovered an REI sign.

I’d stumbled upon the mother ship! I’ve lived in two other cities with REI stores, but this one, with its designed waterways and landscaped forest surroundings, and its soaring wooden architecture inside, was truly fit for an emperor of recreational equipment, inc.

I didn’t linger. Christmas shoppers were thronging the flannel shirt aisles, and I was avoiding exposure to germs for my husband’s sake. I was happy enough that I’d happened upon this faux-rustic capitalist castle, reminiscent of William Randolph Hearst’s.

Normal People

Take us on your ride, Sally. 
What does that mean?
What normal people have you ever seen?
Maybe I over anticipate what you'll say. 
Maybe your characters will live in a normal way. 
They'll have joys and pains, sunshine and rain
And when it's all said and done, they'll be imperfect but sane.

jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon

Holy Bible

I speak in not words, thoughts can be heard only by the thinker. A work of ‘in groups’ to write a story. A poets description of past life expressed through a love that a silent man has taught. Walking.

A bibliography. The riddles in writing are of but songs we sing. Day unto day, all whiles of the night. A whisper of yesterday and a hope of tomorrow. Dance.

A book of rules; good ideas. God is Good. The Book is left to interpretation. One lesson of truth from this book, Gratitude.

For this I Thank You

What wildness is this

This is the part of me
that hates my everyday pleasing
good-girl self and wants
to shake her and
scream at her:
“Wake up! Wake up!
The Wildness awaits and time
is running short.”

 

Hour 9 – The Fifth Season

That’s preposterous

Everyone knows that there are only four

I can name them for you

Winter

Spring

Summer

and Fall

That is all

 

It’s real

 

What would the weather be like, then?

 

The weather does not matter

It is like all of those you’ve named

and none of them

at once

a season out of time

 

It is the connective tissue

the intricate knitting that holds the

whole thing together

the spoke and the wheel

 

How can you know?

 

Because of the sudden teeming on my skin

the alertness of the hairs at the back of my neck

 

Because my totality cannot be hewn

down into only four parts

 

I know it is true because of the contradictions

I am able to contain

The Lie that Defines (Hour 8)

She had always waited for her father to come home,
her mother to acknowledge her scars,
herself to find the courage she needed to get clean.
The lies always came in threes: the car was never stolen,
the pills are all accounted for,
this would be the last time.
And her last time came too soon, without a chance to make amends.

Story Time

Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The penniless kids play using a stick for a king’s sword
While the mother goes around collecting all she can hoard

Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
A stranger from the rotten vegetable market join them for dinner
No food, no clothes, but could this bearded man be their breadwinner?

Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
He takes the sweet, poor kids around Paris and shows them the city
They enter a shop, look around, but the security shows them no pity

Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The old man gets a job and promises to provide for the kids like a father
The mother doesn’t want him near them and considers him to be a bother

Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The weathered man saves the young, war-torn family from a frosty night
The family accept his as one of their own, their guardian, their white knight.

The age of innocence

The age of innocence

The doll’s play gives way to bigger games

As blasphemy loses its might

When a young girl and her lover

Declare their vows

To be together forever

 

Conflicting emotions surround them

As they hold each other’s hands

And watch their age of innocence fly away

 

Hour 9

@varenyas

House of Leaves

Take one last look and try to remember
before the dying room collapses into the Earth.
This was once your sanctuary
now it’s dust and dirty truths
as you pair the jigsaw of a memory to the physical.
Where your bliss was, is also where you laid aching
for the brooding sky to swallow you into nothing.
The musings on these walls were only there to
make up for the lack of sunny memories.
The split, spider-web mirror didn’t catch any smiles
nor did it give you a better perspective
she showed you what they dared not tell you.
Foolish, rosy-eyed girl
there is no place for you here.
At least, not anymore.

Hour Nine – use a book title…

“My Sunshine Away”

Your loving eyes
Your beautiful heart
Please don’t take…

Your wonderous smile
Your boisterous laugh
Please don’t take…

Your strong arms
Your protective embrace
Please don’t take…

The sound of crushing metal
The smell of burning rubber
Please don’t take…My Sunshine Away

gj