The Poetry Marathon

(#5/24): “Remembrance”

Three decades it has been.

Has it really?

How time flies.

 

Long walks on mossy ground.

Short breaths in the crisp air.

Careful treks down the hill on moonless nights.

 

Fitfully warming hands by dying embers.

Shivering under musky covers,

And scant heat from steel cold heaters.

 

The wonders of living in an old house,

With haphazard corridors, tiny attics, dank cellars,

But disappointingly, no ghosts.

 

The joys of drinking hot weak tea,

Gobbling up fries drowned in vinegar, guffawing at spotted dicks,

And going on pub crawls with mates.

 

These memories will have to sustain me,

Until I return someday,

To this land of a misspent youth.

 

© 2017 S Phua

Garden

Emerald, blue ponds
Tadpoles, bugs, fish, green frogs
Lily pads red, black

morning -#24

there is a calm quiet at
this time of the morning
nothing stirring about in the neighborhood
no early walkers out for a lap around the block
or golf carts in gear across on the green
but birds are chirping
and the sun is rising over the house
this is the time i love best –
morning

Sun

My sons shine like smooth red wine

My daughter flowers in bloom all the time

Radiant beauty

Family shining like the sun

I am forever grateful for your legacy

This Basement Window

 

This basement window
Allows a glint of light
Through its high narrow strip of muddied glass.

It’s well before dawn now
I can smell a skunk sauntering past the yard
Which is why my hound has been, well
Hounding while I wrote all night

Darkness past that pane
Lifts
An overeager cock crows too early
And a neighbor stews him in disrupted dreams

My view just a line of chain link and indigo
The sky’s the limit if I can keep from
Impaling myself on the way

What I see though as I gaze through this window is a path to the
Future, paved in words
My reward more days just like today (adding only
A better idea of where the next mortgage is coming from and
Means to fix the roof):
Ensconced at my desk in this quiet subterranean cave
Embrace a challenge get productive
Practice aikido play tickle with brains
Nap in a dog pile and
write, write, write.

The Zoogoers

Out on the street,

a steady flow of feet

leads to the National Zoo.

One of our Smithsonian treasures,

bison graze there once again,

and a snowy leopard paces nervously

as you pass by. The birds in the aviary

fly, but they can’t really go anywhere,

not that they care.  They like it here,

but not the elephants. The tigers, too,

would like to be somewhere else.

They would have left with the panda,

who recently went back to China,

or should I say, was summoned back

to China. Some of us wept to see it go.

Black Birds

The crows guard their Master!
Never leaving my side,
They wait for me patiently to protect!

(#4/24): “Submission”

“A body at rest, stays at rest …”.

I fall asleep waiting for you.

Against my fear, but I am just so, so tired.

 

“… Unless a force exerts itself, …”

You wake me up with one wrench of my hair,

And a backhand across my face.

 

“… While a body in motion, stays in motion …”

I scramble to get up without a word,

Trying to show no sign of impertinence, or pain.

 

“… Until a force exerts itself.”

I rush to get your cold plates to the microwave,

Until your ankle trip, and I meet gravity,

And all is still.

 

“If force is mass x acceleration, then the greater the mass of the object being accelerated, the greater the force required.”

I disagree with Newton here.

For the slightest motion of your wrist,

Makes me flinch, and jump, and react, immediately.

 

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

I try to push my bulk off the linoleum

With all the strength I can muster,

As you laugh at my agony.

 

“Gravity is the force that pulls objects together, and the further the distance between objects, the smaller that force.”

If fear compels me to stay with you,

Would not running away reduce that fear?

And yet, it is that fear

Which keeps me hostage.

 

I have not finished high school,

But I know these Laws of Motion and Gravity

All so well.

 

I am numb to the pain,

Impervious to the humiliation,

And resigned to the indignity of my life with you.

 

© 2017 S Phua

 

(Author’s note: Apologies for taking liberties with Newton’s Laws.)

#12 another day

from the window, where i lived tonight at,

i’ve mashed eggshells for the orange plant,

lit the rose candle, and grateful that today

there is no garbage truck, to remind me of a

past life. of orderly hours, although, there’s

the man with balding mullet and no shame in fearfully

tight, underwear. smoking his breakfast cigar,

signaling that repetition found its way, even relentless

hinting at the mundane. i’ve become german, in habits

such as staring into places and eyes without any reason,

or remorse, only fun. but the girl right across my flat, put her silver

Bose headphones on, sitting on the ledge, flirting with death,

although, from that floor, if she fell, may only break a bone or two.

at that age, i liked to imagine i was brave in lieu

of all the experiences i had yet to encounter. her scowl is in sync

with the rain and car tires fusion. the elderly lady

hides behind her lace curtain, diagonal and above, observing me,

from invisibility. but from where the light strikes, i know her shadow well,

and i wonder if i should give her the show she seeks or return to bed?

Guard

He barks,
He growls,
When there are strangers around!

Other than this he makes no sound!
That loving hound!

With that chain around his neck,
He always likes to check;
That I am safe and sound tucked up in bed!