The Poetry Marathon

Morning menu

Eight a.m.

Grey skies, cool breeze
just light enough to avoid
a “Quiche Lorraine” kind of day

The birds are oblivious to such concerns
tweeting, twittering, and chirping away
as they do

The sounds of the creek
though muffled by the thicket of green along its banks
are present, as always

Traffic is awakening now
cars softly whoosh as they pass by
then fall silent

I feel a slight chill
as I take in the muted colours—
time to go back inside

But the fresh air felt good

 

---

(22 June 2019, Hour 3)

Time Bomb

Crazy

incessant barking

redundant apologies

monotonous meandering

Sanity

routine

replenished resplendence

nest egg overflowing

the eye of the beholder

the eye of the storm

the eye of a needle

needling you to a repentance you despise

when will you be you?

 

 

Cat-Hour 3

Cat has joined me

His soft purr and presence

Makes this less lonely

He empties the isolation brilliantly

My mind is filled with doubt

Anger, anguish, worry

But he purrs it away

Like a wizard

Or a saint

We relish each other’s company

He my constant companion

Close to my side when I am home

I am reassured there is good in life

good in this world

because of a simple being

Bathed in love

Wanting nothing more

than food, adoration and attention

When he’s in the mood.

On his time

When it suits him

 

 

 

The Shapes I’m In

Fifth Hour

The Shapes I’m In

If you know me, you know the shape I am in.
Like a square, I can be one-dimensional,
flat and unimpressive – reclusive.I can appear one-faceted, boxed in.
Alone and exclusive.
My square days don’t define me,
But it is who I can be – Unobtrusive.

When I am a triangular prism,
there is no doubt that I am showing my best self,
Transparent – no schisms.
I can clearly see out of the four faces,
and stand tall on it’s fifth.
I have five-fold vision.

No smoking mirrors, no secrets
And no myths.
Declaring my purpose
To whosoever will,
Coming from a very dark place,
I have risen!

See me as a spiraling circle,
on an obstacle course,
learning to jump through hoops…
downward then upward,
like a driven trainer riding
a prize-winning horse,
no complaints – no remorse!

I have been a rectangular prism,
But I applaud my highs and I rest in my lows.
I am not just me by the faces you see,
But by the length, width, height, and depth,
I am a complete miracle,
Mathematical geometry!

City of Compton 90222
June 22, 2019@11:!4

 

 

The Passenger

The whispers on the wind speak

I do not understand

The rolling waves of the river muttering from the depths

I strain to catch the words

Singing, singing, singing

The birds are singing

Death has taken one of their own

The cycle continues

I cannot hear it.

Life all around me

Death snuffs one out

The cycle continues

And yet I am deaf to it

The sun streams down

lighting up the leaves of the trees in a golden green

But I cannot see, not really see, what is happening in the shadows

What have I become, a passenger in this world, watching from the window,

from the train

from the street

All life happens when you are not looking

But with your eyes, with your ears, you try to catch it all as it goes by

Even then it is sometimes not enough

Scenic Night of Asian moonlighting

 

Cold night scenic dark enveloping

Witnessing how world turns

In its daytime or nighttime

Thrills of each passage

Making sense of listening

Listening the dead silence

Snoring of people surroundings

Epic madness of thoughts lingers

Marveling in its passages

Thriller skyline of my own being sparkles

Darkness of sight seeks beyond what it seems

Changes surely in the next phase of another day

 

Prompt # 3 Hour # 03

11:00 PM PHT 22/06/2019

What my eyes can’t see

Without my sight I can feel the ground,

my feet can’t tell where I am.

They don’t know if I am home or somewhere else.

My hands can’t tell if the walls are here or there.

The smells aren’t familiar or real to me yet, but when I hear your voice I am home.

 

3. Midnight Curled at My Legs

A pleasant surprise, Mr. Squishy
To see you curled up at my legs
Napping away in all your dark glory
Fuzzy and squishy, with just a hint of your fang
A reminder that to squeeze or not to squeeze, is never the question
More like a dare
One I’ll never balk at
Come here!

The gift of Magic

It was revealed to me in a book one time
and also in the stars
I could feel it in my bones
Some sounds were soft and sometimes far

When I saw him I just knew it
I recognized his eyes right away
We both knew we’d known each other
In his embrace where I was safe

In his arms where I would stay
In his arms where I would pray
In his arms I dreamt my biggest dreams
I’m still dreaming now, today

I have loved him since forever
Long before our paths had crossed
Without his light, love, and support
I know now that I’d be lost

Prompt 3 H3- Apartment

Inside I alone am awake
Silence is deafening until the computer suddenly hums
An enormous fan nearly drowning all else out.
Despite its noise I hear so much more

Outside are birds, finches, swallows and crows
Perhaps a raven an occasional duck
But only rarely, and only with luck.

Inside are snores from at least two sources
First comes my husband’s which sound like several horses
Then there is Hank, fuzzy and fat, snoring far louder than your average cat.

The computer fan whizzes, its heat on my lap, the couch is warm too
The light is bright with the promise of dawn, and daylight shines through
that open screen door providing a lackluster view
Of another building.

It’s Wonderful to be here, alone in this quiet.
Too early to leave, and I wouldn’t abide it.