The Poetry Marathon

weather changes, climate changes

what does it all mean

hasn’t it happened before

will it happen again

what does it mean to me

this is what i think

nature is never static

and neither are we

we do have a problem though

don’t you see

our problem is our sight

we can’t see the key

we hear it everyday

people that say

never seen this happen

throughout my days

and yet people ignore

what many scientists say

change is a coming our way

the change that is coming

we will make

because we ignore the signs we see

and put them off to natures take

people are so opaque

they think what they do cannot really change

what happens on earth every day

and yet it seems clear to me

that weather shows us in many ways

that climate is changing with probable cause

the changes we see should give us pause

and we should consider well before we make faux pas

for if we don’t we will surely see

what these actions mean to me.

The no-fun queen of Centre Island threatened the flora and fauna, and the creepy crawlies. Dew between their toes, shiny and sparkly, the star, the fairy and the superhero got word from a bumble bee in the backyard. “she’s bad, so, so bad” it buzzed.
“there’s a battle here!” The superhero said, pointing to his chest. So they grabbed their bikes, kids’ subway tickets, hearts racing, the new streetcar clanging warnings, turning heads, and the boat-ferry making a big noise from its core, and all three talking at once about what was in store, what was to come, how they would do battle and what could be done.Their magic wasn’t in wings or wands, it was in sneakers and bubble gum,
It was in doing, being, standing up, going in plainclothes but all robed up for flora and fauna and creepy crawly things, for the sake of the prince, the princess, the good king.

*written with the help of my cousins, aged 5 and a half and three.

Look across the pond and acknowledge the facade of yourself staring back.

Levity is not the adversary of pure evil you perceive it to be. We stumble through ourselves wondering why so many of us let xenophobia permeate every aspect of their existence as if that were the way to attain enlightenment.

But, Russia, we see you. We acknowledge all aspects of you and we recognize how difficult it must be to live in a region whose reputation has been tainted by the leading narcissist and his goons who seek to destroy anything that threatens their “precious” way of life.

We gaze up at the night lights and remember all those who have been taken from us too soon, those who lost their existence fighting for justice and doing everything in their power to leave the universe just a bit more improved than the condition in which they discovered it.

You may be gone but your sacrifices will never become subjected to the horrors and injustices of evanescence. We know you’re in a better place now and we want to assure you we will continue to fight the good fight and discover what it truly means to be human in a world that constantly tries to make us forget.

One step forward

Three steps back

Little feet darting about

Sheer rapture in every step

Clapped on the mouth

Then clasped in joy

Two chubby little hands

Flying about in mirthful glee

Eyes dancing, face shining

A look of awe on the face

Excited chatter streaming forth

Lisping words about the wonder beheld

Magic may not be real

But magic, we can see

For, through the lens of a three year old

Magic is naught but an automated door

Missing Womanhood

We meet in many places

the musty woods beneath swaying mossy boughs

a paint-splattered studio apartment downtown

your neighbor’s house, perhaps

Chattering and excited like children

we greet each other

hugs with running starts

all beaming eyes and glinting, peevish smiles

There is a silence

then

we begin

to cast the circle

to draw a cloak

a space between the worlds

We honor what binds us to all things

and conspire with the air that swells to lift up

a song that is strange and true

to ignite the fire dancing in the sky

that warms the ocean of the waking dream

We retrieve the gifts that glitter on the twilight shore

And in so doing turn the wheel of time

That is all, really

The small brown bear is, as on most days

Left lying flat and haphazardly on the bed

Inanimate and not even propped up straight

To get a good look out the window

He is old, and worn

The pads on his feet all but gone

Someone promises to repair them but never does

And probably never will

But once the house is quiet

And he is left alone

He comes to life, gets up

And dusts himself off

Because at some point the night before

He had ended up on the floor

Stretches his arms out

Perhaps even exercises

Then—oh then he takes flight

And around and around the world he speeds

Supersonic and unstoppable

Fighting crime and protecting us all

He is a superhero

A bear without equal

A bear beyond compare

As the legend goes

They rally and cheer and chant

And praise his bravery

No one tosses him onto a chair

When the bed has to be made

Or stuffs him in a suitcase

A hero smashed head first into darkness

Until he is released

Only to be thrown on unknown beds and floors

My bear lives this secret life

Far from me and my ability to see

The illusion right in front of me

I come home, and hug him

And hope he saved the world today.

Hour Two

Magic

Did you ever consider

that everything might be random?

Or that all you see is part

of a plan?

Or that you are one tiny piece

of a gargantuan jig-saw puzzle?

Think really hard.

OK – answer fast.

Who are you?

The big question

(unless you know something I don’t)

remains unanswered.

Where do you find meaning?

Who is calling the shots?

How do you decide anything?

We can look for patterns in nature.

Maybe that’s a hint.

The strong survive, at least for a while.

Things change.

And just one species alters patterns.

Changes weather – which changes things.

The big question…

Is what we do preordained?

Are we supposed to learn enough

to recreate the garden and be stewards

of a new Utopia?

Are we supposed to figure out in our last

gasping breath that we did something wrong?

Are we in control?

Or…is a wizard somewhere

waving a wand?

And everything we do is dictated…

in this magical life.

It is so different

Our lives have changed so much

One day we are strangers

Now the day is dull without you

You bring light into my life

You shine through the darkness that surrounds me

We are nowhere near perfect

Our imperfections create struggles

Yet

They cannot stop the love I have for you

Our struggles make us strong

We don’t let them

circumstance or comment

Trouble or argument

We don’t let them define our love

It’s incredible

The strength in forgiveness

The love without borders

The passion for each other

It is like magic

Impossible to understand

But after the show

Left in complete awe

It is the amazement of the indescribable

We are undefinable

We are a breed of our own

We are like magic

Something to admire

Something people enjoy and desire

Yet,

We are unattainable

We are one of a kind

We are magic

Thank you Lord

For this magical adventure of indescribable love

Bubbles

Tiny hands and lit up faces craning skyward

The green of summer surrounds

And the bubbles float,

the oil slick of their skin an iridescent silk,

barely there.

Dancing eyes follow them

Soft arms reach for them

The glassy creatures bumble, and baby smiles conceive

Impossible fragility.

They gasp in delight.