The Poetry Marathon

Responding to Image 3

The Writer’s Desk Prompt 3 Hour 3

There it stands, against the wall
Dark brown and piled high with
All things NOT writing
I stare at it, against the wall
Neglected, it has been
Covered with papers, books and magazines
Literary journals lie, piled up beneath it

I stare at my creation
A desk, against the wall, showing
me my own procrastination
At organizing, at reading, at writing
Neglected, it has been
My writing life, like the desk
Piled high with excuses

4. The Messenger IV

That book I wrote has now been published

It’s a success and I am so surprised how easy it has been

Simply because I wasn’t attached to the outcome

And that I simply created this habit of writing every day( in the morning )

So much so that I didn’t stop writing

Many more ideas for books come to me every day

While I was writing the first one

I have now a creative habit and a system in place

Not a single idea, good or bad,

Is ever lost now

Everything is kept in a precise place

So I can find it again anytime I need or want

And with the distance on them,

I can now easily tell if it’s a good one or not

Same with my artworks: when I look at them

6 months or one year later, I know ( let alone my agent guiding me )

I am featured on TV ( yes that still exists, I cannot believe it myself )

And in online programs, which attracts even more people

And inspire them to awaken the artist in them and

Take action on their dearest dreams

Nosegay

Apples, Berries, Roses, herbs

bound with string and ribbon,

hide the hint of decay.

Satin, Velvet, Cotton, oak

tucked in and around a box

made to take love away.

Sobbing, Whispers, Tip-toe, grief

made all pretty for those

forced to deal with the day.

Ritual, Habits, Ceremony

humane acts, over time, muting truth

and the reason for the nosegay.

A Challenge

These past few weeks have had me thinking I hadn’t done anything right.

Friends, partners and associates, alike had me questioning if the path I was on, was the right flight.

I, who had love for everyone, couldn’t understand-

This abandonment that came from no where, yet seemed orchestrated and planned.

Great care was taken as every detail of my demise was checked off and executed with great precision.

A lesser man would have succumb to your withdrawl-

Started feening for your affections

Like a slave in chains begs to be free and an addict clamors for the next fix…

But wisdom is more powerful than all that.

And He used this very thing to grab my attention-

Where once it was had, he failed not to mention

All the places I was going and the success I am destined to be.

He reminded me that those I had once held in high esteem had to leave

For this next level, had no room for the haters who used to keep me company.

I am a shining star, getting ready to shoot out of this galaxy

So to those that thought me a flower, who would whither and die

Here is a chair. Pull one up.

Have several seats.

And enjoy the feast

Prepared especially for you.

You’re in for a special treat

So get ready to see how your hate and disdain has become the fuel that makes me great.

And remember this Queen doesn’t cower to whispered conferences held behind backs or chambers I’ve not been invited in.

I guess only one of us knows what it is to be called this and lives by it’s TRUE definition.

When Your Taste Buds are in Your Feet, Don’t Linger in the Dung Pile

Life is full of tempting fruit,

Enough to fill each day.

But in the end

Its all the same—

It rots; We fly away.

 

Yes, that was a cheater, but chemo says I need some down time; here’s to ‘lingering’ on the pillow for half an hour.

Mysterious She

With a series of follies
She was to agonize
But otherwise
She was, One amongst the Wise

With the sparkle in her eyes
Unseen were her tries
And a mouth full of lies
Unheard were her cries

To the broken ties
She said goodbyes
But love never dies
She was made, just to rise

Unending were her flies
Infinite were her skies
Limitless were her spies
Years together, she was in guise

Unlike many a guys
Never did she compromise
Supernal were her highs
All she did, was, without sighs

Late did she realize,
Fate for her had a surprise;
Everything comes with a price
And On her knees she had to apologize

Yet it is a reprise;
Again, she lives her life king size
Her follies met a demise
And watching the sunrise
She’s all butterflies!

Wargames Tableau

Wargames to the table
Bring friends together
Our minds we will test
The tactics we use
To bring victory
To the plan best thought

Up for Interpretation

I scroll through all the pictures,
Trying to decipher their messages.
Trying to really see them, yet
Uncomprehending what they mean.

A photo of a boat on the azure water catches my eye.
Immediate, visceral outrage 
Oil spilling on the pristine waters.
(Oil spills are the only context in which ‘pristine’ is used anymore. 
Why can’t they pollute polluted water instead?)

My rage is distracted by my reflection in the screen.
It’s been a little over a week 
and I’m still not sure if I like my hair cut this way.
I have spikes and horns enough for a dragon.

I take my device inside
To stop seeing my reflection
Expanding the picture to feel 
The anger inside once again.

My thumb and finger slide away from each other
to reveal that the picture is of a boat moored near coral.
There is no oil spill.
Never mind.

Prompt #4 Numb

Dead from the inside 
I am numb.
A complete shut down
unresponsive to the external.
Immovable, life wasting away.
Tired eyes and hungry heart 
all dead in a row.
No thirst to quench
no dreams to conquer
powerless in one way
powerful in another
- nothing affects me.

Nothing to lose,
no fear, no feelings, 
no attachment, no sorrow, 
Just the bottomless pit 
of nothingness -encroaching.

Overtaking... overcoming...
infectious and familiar

It feels comfortable, 
I am doomed anyway, 
Damned if I do,
Damned if I don't.

Hopelessness looms 
like a shadow. 
Wasted life, 
Wasted years,
The Pointlessness of the point,
at the edge of reason 
and lingering disappointment.

Far from any harm,
removed and isolated
detached and unemotional, 
I let that shit go. 

Only to dive deep
Head first into the chaos of living.
The madness of emotions.
The passage through life.


I am waking up,
Undoing these chains 
that have held me down 
for far too long.
I am becoming human.
I am living. 


I open the doors 
and let it surge.

-Janice Raquela Mendonca