The Poetry Marathon

Phaeton

Half immortal. Half mortal.

Son of Helios and Klymene.

He wanted to do great deeds.

He wanted to be famous like his father.

To drive the steeds and chariot through the sky.

Light and warmth for the Earth.

Food for people and a beauteous place to live.

 

To his father he would not listen.

All he could see was the horses’ manes glisten.

Of he tore across the sky,

gripping the reins of the horses who knew and obeyed Helios,

but would not Phaeton.

 

Off the horses raced. They flew out of their courses–to close to the Earth

causing drought, fires; all manner of destruction.

 

At last Zeus intervened and flung a lightning bolt that hit Phaeton,

throwing him from the chariot and into the sea.

The horses, though weary, returned to their stable.

 

The daughters of Hesperus retrieved Phaeton’s body from the sea and was entombed by them on the beach as a memorial to his desire to do good things, though not as he should have done.

My Fool (2017)

They say it isn’t proper
That as queen I should set my sights higher.
But how can I deny the the things
I feel when I see you?

You aren’t royalty.
You’re far from nobility.
Most would say you fall last
In the line of importance.

But they don’t see what I see,
Or know you like I do.
They don’t see how you brighten my day
With your sweet, simple smile.

You’re more than the fool,
You’re more than a joke.
You’re all I could ask for.
You’re the one that I love.

They say it isn’t proper;
I should set my sights higher.
But I cannot deny you,
My fool, my love.

Fictional Character

It must first me understood how I got the name ‘little red riding hood’

commonly what is thought to be, is rarely what really IS, you see!

whilst on my way through the woods up to-  on that particular day – I confess, no real good.

when upon my way I came to pass a breaded guy who was, by all accounts, a real ass —

 

hastening on my way to play, he insisted, PERsisted and stood in my way.  when all of a sudden it came to me to place his head on yon high tree.  So with a dash and then a quick crash, i skipped along my merry way but not before his innards did splash upon my new and lovely head sash.

crimsoned and flushed I made my way to grandmother’s house on this fabled day

Little Girl Come Full Circle

She stands in front of

the mirror

admiring her reflection:

two neat braids,

a new dress,

shiny shoes,

ready to start her

first day of school.

 

Strangers,

A strange place.

What adventures await her?

Who will be her friends?

Will they like her?

Will she like them?

What if she forgets their names?

What if she can’t remember how to write her own name?

What if she gets lost walking home?

Will someone find her and tell her

she was missed,

is loved?

 

She peers into

the mirror

straining to see her reflection:

her white hair combed,

her favorite sweater,

orthopedic shoes.

Ready to start her

first day of geriatric care.

 

Strangers,

A strange place.

What happened to the old days?

Where are her friends?

Do they remember her?

What if she forgets her loved ones’ faces?

What if she can’t remember they love her?

What if she gets lost?

Will someone find her and tell her

what she knows in her heart:

she is missed,

she is loved.

 

Eve T. Remillard

 

A Single Rose

A vision of beauty

the rose can inflict a lifetime of pain

The deepest of red and the softest of petals

surround the thorns as it sharpens

the scent of sweetness

and captures the pleasant sorrow of late blossoms

Creating delicate rhythms as one by one the release of extreme pleasure

escapes the pruning of it’s alluring pose.

Marla

8/5/17 9:15pm
Marla

I’m selling some clothes.
I am Jack’s utter lack of surprise.
Dodging cars since I could walk,
I’m the daughter of the subways,
broken glass of the sunrise.
Stumbling fumbling between intersections.
I keep seeing you in red,
The lights outside my apartment.
Somebody called the cops.
I don’t know who we are this time.
When I wake up
Smoke shudders
Shoulders in thrift-torn second-hand-worn
fur.
She’s bony and slick, the stray cat.
But still he wants her.

Hour 14

An easy fix, this, with the very small words and easy banter- who could ever declare anything truly false

The catch, is the desire to sleep is not worth the strain- of adding additional thought

It was rough.  It is now not. The desire to sleep replaced the original to wake up

But waking up, was rough

The sense of panic when you see a car with no driver

Right before you realize it is hitched, and being towed

Perhaps vigilant is a good word

Easy banter, who could ever declare anything truly false

The driver seat was empty

The emotion valid in that reality

Enough is enough

Wonder Woman Lipstick

I have Wonder Woman lipstick
and I am not afraid to use it!

I have the cape as well
but I don’t need to brag about that,
you already know.

Feminine strength
rooted in kindness
and an attitude of believing
in the best in others,
as well as an axis of evil.

I take your plotting
your palsey-walsey mask
and I engage you with suspicion
worthy of your cunning

I suggest you engage me
with similar resolve
because I already warned you
I have Wonder Woman lipstick
and I am not afraid to use it!

Night

(more…)

The Hayes’ Contention

There is a theory that He

is but a filtration of what once was,

where time’s taken out the peripheral, Factor A,

with Factor B, natural selection – both brutal and deft –

reducing Man to what one notorious exponent

described as “No more or less experiential than the chance of

surviving a sharp frost or unknowingly looking the right way at the

salient point – a lucky blow rather than martial

supremacy. Thus He is less science than incidental art.”

 

(NB: Line from Kung-Fu International by John Cooper Clarke)