The Poetry Marathon

Hour 4

an ode to my body

i say a prayer to my skin every morning
a ritual of water, lotion, & lavender essential oil
candles lit
hymns flowing around me
recognition of my divinity
taking inventory of the terrain
the varying hues of brown
eczema scars (meaning delicate)
stretch marks (meaning growth) 
uneven tan lines (meaning sun kissed)
hair everywhere society tells me it shouldn’t be (meaning fuck you)

i said a prayer to my
body this morning
when i shaved my head
when i let go of my small curls
let go of my larger worries

this isn’t a love/hate relationship
these bones can’t afford to harbor anymore hate
but love isn’t always easy
in love there are still apologies
still insecurities
in love there is still harm
but most importantly there is always softness
always care

The Dream

The dream fades
into a crimson fog
of faces without
hearts, smiles
of lost intention.

The dreamer drifts
into another mirage,
a wisteria tunnel
folds into itself.

A heart awakens
to a surrender of tears,
forgiveness placed on
the quiet side of
a locked door.

ALIVE

Consuming fire across the hall

Burning papers everywhere

Turbulent heat feeling around the room

Fumes of old gas as if I am gasping for more breathe

Trying to escape from this imminent madness of fire

Walls falling down and top of the roof falling apart

Flames everywhere

Fumes smells

Wrecking sound of falling debris

Where am I going to

Time in its passage

Ought to do

Get out of the place really fast

Still am I alive

Really alive

Alive

 

 

Prompt # 6 Hour # 05

1:00 AM PHT 23/06/2019

 

Edges

Can the ocean feel?

There where the land splits apart,

who heals the edges?

 

J. Pratt-Walter

6/22/2019

Island Dreams

Dreams of Aloha

lull me to sleep,

Palm fronds sway to the rhythm

Of the Kona wind;

The ephemeral aroma of

Plumeria and tuberose

Float across the shadows

Of the night sky;

Ocean waves whisper

As a canopy of stars

Light my way

Back to the island.

A Letter to My Body

Dear my body,

First of all, thank you for carting my brain around. I do appreciate that.

Secondly, thank you for having strong legs and strong arms for lifting and carrying. Thank you for having a nice strong rib cage to keep my organs safe and pale, but thick, skin to keep the germs out.

Thirdly, thank you for continuing on even after being fed a diet of mostly junk food for so many years.

Finally, thank you for existing. I often feel down about you and how we look, but you are truly the only reason that I am alive.

With all my love,
Your brain.

The World Outside

The world outside awaits your presence
Do not miss out on what awaits
Life would be lesser for it
See what awaits this day
Hear what the wind blows
Smell what is about
Feel the breeze
Don’t blink
Sense

No, Wait

In constant agony, pain

Unsafe, unsure, scared

Take my hand, let me help you

The Journey

It is  better to go it alone,

Than to not go at all.

The journey is hard,

And the toil is long…

C. Burgess (c)

Entry 5 Half-Marathon 19.00 EU time — Five Tanka on Death

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1

he is no longer there

but she calls out his name

and then waits

to see if his favourite chair

will move by itself

 

2

I wish to die

way ahead of you

that way I’ll know

someone will be there

to pay the burial fees

 

3

even today

I think of my two dead sons

only when my heart

has turned to earth again

will they be buried

 

4

death poems …

we die a little death

each borrowed day

yet live again because

we have to pay

 

5

sometimes a death

will have more meaning

after a life well lived

said the cockroach after

getting crushed by a shoe

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