The Poetry Marathon

Earth Gazing

Hello little blue planet
I’m worried about you
I’ve been watching you
You don’t look so well
Did you stop taking care of yourself?

Nestled in your celestial sky
I’ve seen your past, present, and future
I’ve seen your shiny whites and brilliant blues
Luscious greens and amber golds
Swirling and sliding, shifting and changing.

Lately, your kaleidoscope is murky
Dark, dull, foreboding spots and patches
Damaged and ruined
I’m worried you won’t be able to breathe
Maybe you should stop smoking.

It’s not good for you.

Poem 21-Don’t Go There

Word One

Don’t go down there

That place, it’s evil

Dark, dastardly, deceptive

You will regret it

There is a reason the past is buried there

All that nasty emotion

Those long forgotten memories

They will grab you and pull you back in

Next thing you know

You’ll be smothering tears in your pillow

And plotting revenge like a pro.

Don’t do it

Stay away

Keep that shit bottled up

Keep it under those layers of self pep talks

Keep it hidden beneath the late night ice cream and the

Stress donuts at dawn

It is dark there, dank, dangerous

Grab that shovel

Put more dirt on that casket

Burn a couple pictures

If you keep going there

That dead memory zombie will eat you

Throw your carcass to the next girlfriend to eat

and she doesn’t need the calories either

Organic beauty

It’s not a Botox, it’s more than a skin deep.

for a start, get your hormones back on track

and look delightfully delicious and glow even in the dark.

Empower yourself and take control of your menopausal syndrome and

revitalize  and restore your cell with natural estrogen and pure oxygen,

and will make you radiantly healthy and naturally pretty.

its time to control your imbalance hormones

by, doing daily exercises, healthy diet and far more.

Natural beauty isn’t just an easy fix,

its the attitude that resonate.

A total overhauling of mind, body and spirit will do the trick.

 

Most of this is not super true.

His beard is thicker than an otter’s pelt

His beard is softer than a chinchilla

His eyes are bluer than the sky

His eyes gleam brighter than headlights

When something interesting meets his eye.

He’s smarter than a genius

More clever than a fox

He’s good at playing word games

He could sell you your own box.

His hair is more golden than Rapunzel’s

His hair is straighter than a rod

Better than a cult leader,

He could convince you of his god.

His wisdom shines like diamonds

His charisma’s dark as pitch

His intelligence unquestioned

by both poor and rich.

He is the perfect lover,

He is the perfect man.

I’m lucky that I met him,

I’ll do everything I can,

To keep him.

12. Smile and pleasure

You play with me

Around the house

In the bushes

In the garden

You chase me

Like a treasure

I‘m your treasure

It is happiness

In its best memories

We are innocent

And playful

You chase me

And I laugh

When you try to kiss me

Around the bush

I hide

And you look for me

In the garden

I am around the corner

Of the house

Where the mouse

Are running wild

And playtime

Is the best time

Of my youth

Then you vanish

And I can’t find you

There is a sound

Very loud bell

You’re nowhere

To be found

I miss you

Now the time has gone

A long time has gone

I think about you

Always here

In my heart

Beating in my chest

No sound any longer

No play around the corner

All have died the bushes

And the mouse

Is long gone

You are still here

But not playing with me

But not chasing me

Like your treasure

I’m your treasure

Now you appear suddenly

But you look different

A long time has gone

You want to play

But something has gone

From you and from me

The bushes are the same

The corner and the mouse

Are back from then

But you are different

You want to chase me

But something has gone

I think it’s called

Youth

You show me all your bags

Full of golden metal

Making that same sound

Of the bell I hear no more

Something has gone

Oh my treasure

Where is your young

Smile and pleasure

Isabella

My eyes burn before
my feet do, wrists
bound behind me to
a pole. What have I
done wrong? My nose
runs, I shift my
right foot away from
the smoldering stack.
My back aches. Someone
save me. Save me. Kill
me now. A flame pulls
itself out of the mound.
Another. I feel fevered.
I shift my weight again,
but my lungs ache. I pull
at the rope on my wrists.
Raw. Keep pulling. The fire
growls toward the sky, hissing
with flame teeth, gnashing like
a rabid dog. My heart is a rabbit.
Cornered. What have I done wrong? I
squeeze the pole against my spine, pull
down with my arms, wiggle and stretch upward,
away. I move half as far as a first year cone,
fall down into the blaze. It needs me. It needs
me. My toenails blacken. I scream until my throat
is as raw as my wrists. I smell cooked meat. It’s me.
I know. My calf ruptures. I hear it before I feel it. What
have I done wrong? I don’t forgive you. You cannot be absolved.
Carry me with you. Watch my lashes burn. Save me. Save me. Save me.

Hour 21 – Prompt 21 – A birthday celebration

Exaggeration poetry

The teacher asked her student
“How was your birthday celebration?”

John’s excited voice was loud and he said
“Miss, it was great. The cake was
as huge as a whale. The balloons
hung from the ceiling to the floor.”

For someone who was yet to learn
counting, he held his hands apart
and said, “A hundred friends came
over and they all fit into my home.”

“We drank ten gallons of orange juice
We ate a large pizza each. Our tummies
were swimming in the chocolate sauce,
that melted the vanilla ice creams

The music was so loud, that entire
area danced to the tune. We enjoyed
my birthday with fireworks, till
the rays of dawn told us to stop”

His expressions were full of awe
He captured the attention of all
his friends. His teacher smiled
encouragingly and thought, “Here
is a great story teller in the making”

(c) Vijaya Gowrisankar

Blood

                                                  Poem 21

Blood gushed from her palm

     the brightest of reds

she ever did see

      making strong bubbling streams across dark brown lines etched         in tender flesh telling prophesies hushed from birth

A foolish mistake, a thoughtless act

The cause of her distress, the subtle nothingness of life

      her focus still withdrawn from the world

As blood drips unto pristine white

Saturating napkins galore

     And it still didn’t make anything right

 

Nothing but the best

Consumed with deceit
Outer loses vs inner
Virtue is her worth

Hour 21: Drip Drop Dead

(a pair of lanturnes)

drip
drip drop
liquid chimes
colour pooling
red

blink
flutter
waning light
breastbone falling
dead