The Poetry Marathon

The Test

Aren’t we supposed to be perfect?
We’ve been “that couple” for years,
made it through life together,
started a new life together,
our friends always saying
“I wish I had what you two have”

So why do we argue?
Why does my mind tell me
something feels different.
Off.

I love you. Deeply.
You hold me close at night, and we feel united.
We joke, we laugh,
we act like the teenagers we aren’t supposed to be anymore.
But still, we have grown.

We’ve changed in ways we don’t quite grasp
and each day we learn who the other is
all over again.

It is a test I would not take with anyone
but you.

It is one we don’t always pass.

But you are the man who saved my life,
and despite our arguments,
despite our changing,
you are the man who shows up for me every day,
who takes care of me,
like no one ever has.

And I count myself lucky
that I get to meet you
again tomorrow.

Totem: Hour 2

It was my task to call the cows at milking time.
I’d amble down the summer road,
tipping at grasses with an unnecessary stick.
On reaching the gate, I’d take a breath
and let my voice ring out like morning across the day.
I’d see their heads first –
stone stalwart rising above the curve of the tiny field –
then their mighty shoulders, bony haunches,
udders tight and full,
knees striking each other like flint,
their dark eyes large on mine.

We’d walk the road together to the farm;
one small girl
striding before a cluster of elderly hungry cows;
the knowledge of warm, spiced meal in their nostrils
driving them up and on.
Flighty girls – regardless of their age –
swinging their heavy heads, duncing one another,
like schoolgirls aiming to be first.
Later I’d walk them back;
they’d be skittish now – well fed and less awkward in their step –
their long heads raised to the scent of grass,
pushing to get past me through the gate and graze.

One quiet night in October when the years had fallen away,
the farm became mine alone.
Arriving home that night, and sad,
I stood a moment in the falling dusk,
and turned to see a heifer, richly red,
walk silently towards me from the mist,
her dark eyes large on mine.
She was not skittish as a lost or wandering animal would often be
but stood patiently beyond my car, observant and at ease.
We stood there in a silence that was quieter than the mist allowed
acknowledging this for what it was.
I turned my head a moment
and when I looked up, she was gone.

Aged

Lock that up

throw out the key.

The prose from early childhood

no longer works for me.

Endless Beach

Virginia Carraway Stark

If I had the dream
That we should be the only ones
Alive in a world of two
And we found away
To do away
With all those things
That we fear so well and true
I know you’d come away with me
But do you know I’d run away with you?
It seems so often that you think I’d rather not
If I had the choice
Of pristine beaches
and fishing troves
Coconuts and never-ending sun
Even if there were days when cyclones
Threatened to end our blue skies for good
I would run away with you
Just for the chance
Of endless beaches
And a world of two
Most of all I hope
That you know the contents of my heart
And in the knowing
Know that I love you

No Winner

I have a wise friend

Who says

There can  be no winner

In a nuclear war

Plants, people, animals

Flash away in an instant

Of incendiery fury

And those who served

As the trigger for the gun

Become victims of their own design.

What a waste

Such a waste

There are no winners

In a nuclear war.

Prompt 3 and 4, Hour 3

Take a small walk, or just stroll around your house or apartment. When you are ready, stop, look around, take a deep breath what do you smell, feel what is near you in the air, under your feet, listen and hear what you normally miss; describe what your senses have been telling you but you have ignored.

Contributed by Stephan A. Kalinowski

Or

Go for a walk with your phone or another recording device. When you feel ready start recording a poem out loud while you walk. It could be about the walk itself, but when I use this method I’m often surprised by what I “write” about.

When you return home type it out to post. Feel free to edit.

 

 

Fireworks

Appearing out of thin air suddenly sounding surrounding lights

Bass and crescendo an exclamation point to the gathering brightness

Sparks filled the sky or maybe I noticed it came true

A celebration the revelations that there are fireworks when I’m with you

Or perhaps in the midst of darkness there was in fact nothing in the sky, and the blinding brightness and resonating reverberations was the light of you and I.

The Blue-Haired Fool

He bewitches from the screen,
A word per drop of caffeine;
He reads to her her fortune
From an old newspaper in June.

The blueness appears to spread
For now, it’s on his forehead,
Then at once, his nose it shines
And from the sky fall columbines.

The girl, still she loves here,
Whispers romances to his ear,
Now beginning to turn blue as well,
But never hearing the decibel.

How We Change

They know, we don’t

What do they know
But to find fun every time, everywhere,
any place and anyhow
unassuming masters to the art of forgetfulness
so resentment and malice must suffer
for they are heavy
but joy is light, it is flying

time waves its wand
viola, it’s done

life becomes serious
everyone must be careful
if you will fly balloons
it should be hot

our lives are stories

2. Magic 7/16/2017

Marrying you was the happiest moment of my life
That morning I felt so sick
Not because I was nervous
But, because YOU were marrying ME
me
This undeserving soul

All I could think about that morning was,
“I hope She doesn’t change her mind.”
“I hope I look good for her.”
“I hope I do this right.”
“I hope She is as happy as I.”

Gathered at the gazebo, we all waited for the words,
“She’s here.”
I swear I held my breath the entire time
Ran, is not the word.
Dashed, is more like it
Or maybe sped
All I really know, is that when your sister called out,
“She’s here!”
I nearly tripped and fell

If there’s a word for what I was feeling that moment
And every day after
I don’t know it
At least, there isn’t one that can aptly express it
It started as a tingle
Almost like a buzz, that ripples throughout the skin
Deep down into the roots of the soul

Crystalized and holy, that day will forever remind me
Life doesn’t always dictate itself
It’s a risk we all take with every single breath
Matching our decisions with chance encounters
That show us, the way isn’t always sacrificed when we move on
From the fears of trying again
To learn there is meaning in broken hearts
Nothing is beyond fixing
Or finding again