The Poetry Marathon

Lost, found

Neighborhood wallpapered
light poles
bus stop shelters
shop doors

‘Lost cat’
every week, every day
new signs, different cats

Neighborhood social media
exacerbates frenzy
hysterical ‘owners’
angsty postings, pleadings

‘Lost cat’
every week, every day
new signs, different cats

The cats all come home
lost, now found

Seems there is a wise
Basset Hound
around the corner who
knows Zen
has a side gig
selling catnip
out of his human’s
garage-bound
old Buick

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

A Prose Poem/Prompt 5 Hour 4

A gasp escapes me at the sight of it. An ugly winged thing. The orange, a delicious contrast to the darkness beneath it and that above it. That monstrosity, spindly legs, touching the orange pulp. Dark wings, stand as if pinned on its back. I can feel fear ready to scream. It tickles the back of my throat. If it flies I will scream holy hell and miss the moment. Its ugliness is somehow, enchanting, I think to myself. I move in closer, fascinated. I zoom in, ready to scream if it opens its wings, and snap the picture.

To my Grandma who became a star

Sometimes I look up in the sky
Full of stars and the moon
Seems like time has stopped running there
And everything is still
Those days I want to stop the time as well
Coz I know they will be gone
Once the light appears
And the sun marks his way up
That night I felt the same way
I wanted yo to stay
Stay a little longer with me
And watch me live a life
Full of happiness and gay
But as I cant stop the stars
I also couldnt stop you
.From going away from all of us
And being a star anyway

An Appealing Slice Of Life

O merry moth, or are you a butterfly?

How I wonder where you’ve been as I see you flitting by!

Have you visited my roses red and drank from their morning dew?

Where do you sleep when the day is through?

The juicy orange slices I’m sure are tasty and sweet.

Glad you enjoyed them, remember to wash your sticky feet!

Join the club! :)

It’s a starry night and I am lonely

as a ship in the middle of the ocean

or as a mountain deprived of company.

 

I need a gentle touch and a word or two.

Who feels the same and wants to join me

so that we don’t get bored in the middle of nowhere?

Saturday Futsal

Chirp the ref’s whistle sounds

Five green girls face off 

against five grey boys

Sweat runs down red faces 

“Ugh,” kick, thwap

Ball hurtles down the court

”Go green!”

The goalie stretches and leaps

THUD

The crowd erupts

child’s pose

sleep deprived

mentally sensitized

the words~

struggling, and stumbling

 

self doubt chimes

 

distracted by chaos

tormented by ego

 

silently screaming through emotional hell

to her proverbial knees she quickly fell

 

head to the floor

tears threatening once more

 

pause, just breathe

just breathe. deeply

 

from the floor she arose

re-centered through prose

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

Hour Four – Cornucopia (Diamante)

plentiful

abundant bountiful

gloriously brilliantly alive

copious voluminous

   cornucopia

 

Antoinette LeRoux © 2019

Poem #4

Flowers
a lot of them
pretty too
so I bought a bunch
realized later
they were artificial

Hour 4. (2019)

 

Distressed Sky

Laughs itself to tears

Swallowing the dry

And drowning out my fears