The Poetry Marathon

Prompts 3 and 4 – I loved the walk and record! I will post the audio version, too when I figure it out!

This was a coooool prompt!  Below is a peek into the chaos of the house of a teacher at the end of the school year.  It sounds a right mess but it is just life scattered around the house of a family with a teenager and a young adult woman in transition into her grad studies in another province in process of moving…my children on the move.

 

walking in the chaos

these piles of clothes

this lived in home

that is new and not new

 

scattered pieces of life laying down on

floor

couch

table

 

dust

remnants of meals

heels

reverberations of other people’s lives not yet covered

by mine

or my family’s

 

attempts to place memories

from other places

in spaces too small to fit them all.

 

piles of books

gifts

photos of other times from other homes

where I felt more like they were mine than somebody else’s

 

contained chaos in empty cereal boxes and milk cartons

dishes in sinks

vases of roses given in gratitude remind me I am here for other purposes

than my own

 

padding on floors

to scattered rooms filled with remnants of business

dropped or placed

rested

draped

flung-back sheets in anticipation of days filled with hope to rise to the sun and reach for something new

reminds me life is filled with business and prayers in motion

walking prayers when we don’t have time to stop and kneel

or reach our hands to the quaking leaves and feel the wind in our hair

reminds me

this too is life

this too is living a walking prayer

a thankfulness

remembering to stop and hear the voice of Creator in this mess sometimes, too

 

because it means we live

and our living is full of dreams and prayers

and hopes that we bring medicine into this aching world

even when we leave footprints in the dust of our own floors

(c) r. l. elke

Hour 5

Another short one. Too preoccupied with dinner and date.

Risen from fire

Two wings of embers burning

All from the cold ash

The Trip

I was able to visit a place that is out of this world. 

I couldn’t describe the feeling inside when I saw then light and splendor. 

At first I thought that the lights were so bright, then realize that Love was the light. 

I felt comfort that I’ve never known, like in my first time there I had been there before. 

And the Peace, it was everywhere! Everyone lived in joy without a care. 

So I decided that I was home. I would go on living there. 

I was sure that ones I’d loved would come by so we could share 

But I was told I had to go. Return to my home and thrive

I was given a word to live on, Psalm 37 verse 25

Then I had to leave His side

My opening eyes had proof that I cried. 

But that gift has continued to encourage my stride. 

After my vacation

jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon

 

A Dream on the Ocean Floor

We drove the car into the ocean
and drowned in the Gulf.
Our metal box sinks into
the trench of the unknown.
We land and settle on the seabed
like our very own Apollo 11.
The ocean floor resembles our dear moon.
How does life here endure?

The headlight high-beams upon
the faces of creatures who’ve never seen such bright.
They emerge from the black ocean floor
and swim towards the hope of a sunkissed surface
They don’t make it far
and are overtaken by pressure differences.
Little beings sacrificing home and safety to see
a beauty once unfathomable, again.

Once you know,
you spend the rest of your life searching.

The water takes over me.
I’ve seen it too.

I'm a little drop
Yeah! A little drop
Floating in the ocean 
Yeah! In the ocean 
And there are many
Oh! So many
Breathing beside me

You're a little drop
Yeah! A little drop 
Swimming in the ocean 
Yeah! In the ocean 
And there are other
Oh! A lot
Suffering beside you...

Moth

Butterfly glory

clamors for your attention.

I’m still a brown moth.

 

J. Pratt-Walter

 

6/22/2019

Rainer Ep: 5

The woman began to realize how old she really was,

Long strands of white hair mixed with the black hair,

Soon it will all turn white

And grey as time went on becoming fully ashen

Hour Five

A twelve month
A waymarker
A handful of gleanings
The sound of her words expanding their meanings

The winter that won’t end
The greenest of greens
The water on the highway
The crisp, crisp blue

There is only ever this:
Unclench your fists

Hour 5 QUESTIONS

A baffled
Dragonfly
Floats and falls
Floats and falls again
Puzzled
Closed minded
Climbing up a
Wall – a monolith
Neither
Evil nor kind
Then down its weathered bricks
Again to pavement
Where rain
Rises up in steam
As a memory
Of one long
Sweltering stretch

I wonder who
Has more questions
This green/gold miracle
This winged one-seasoned
Idiot
Or me
Gazing sleepily
From across the quad
Attempting my
Less than Herculean
Task of negotiating
labyrinthine Grubhub

Poem 6: “Flutters of Growth”

it hurts.