The Poetry Marathon

Hour three

Haiku

 

Hot summer day

a sun kissed memory lost

with each blue wave

Empty

She once belonged here
The faces she once recognized-
Ghosts
Hesitation turned her shoulder cold
Another look
That space-
Empty
She never belonged here at all

To my cat

Dearest companion of twenty plus years,
How you make me laugh, your fur dries my tears.
From Missouri to Georgia, together we went.
You are a gift to me, you are heaven sent.
You’ve detected bugs in the house and a dishwasher leak,
Your meows are often a conversation I seek.
Your purrs soothe me when I’m feeling sad,
You know all my secrets, the happy, the bad.
My first four legged child, all of my own,
When you are with me, you make it a home.

The Sky and The Sea

The wide, open sky
With different hues of blue
Admires her own beauty
In the mirroring clear surface
Of the wide open ocean,
Who is relentlessly trying
To grab her attention by waving
Notwithstanding the bright light
Staring in his direction
The elegant lighthouse sighs in despair.

Hour Three

Black Highway at Night

 

Black highway at night and I

am I

I am the driver

 

Black highway at night and the signs flash past

one potato two potato three potato four

mile upon mile, star upon star.

 

I am the driver

 

Black highway at night and I am staying awake

heavy eyelids, dropping chin, counting the signs

tires roll across the night sky, star upon star.

 

One potato two potato three potato four

 

Black highway at night, god knows how far

from this place to that place, all the signs

are too dark to read.

 

Who is the car?

 

Black highway at night, I am driving the car

from this place to that place, where all the signs point

too dark to read, star upon star

 

One estrella two estrella three estrella four

 

Black highway at night, star upon star

mile upon mile, god knows how far

before I’m too weary to keep driving the car.

In search

When eternity lies right in you,

Right inside your own soul;

When religion lies in your

Inner heart and flowing blood;

When morals are anyway

Hardwired in your logistic mind

Right from the beginning

……………………………………..

 

Why do we run

Run in search of eternity;

Run in search of peace.

There is certainly something

Something that doesn’t fit in;

That leaves us

Like the dark morning,

The night without stars.

I am in search of something

That lies in within

As I could never silence my

Inner noise

I never hear my

Inner voice

Just (Hour 2)

Endless

I’m not ready to live forever,
But the neon sign, glowing cyan, beckons me,
I step up to the door,
JOIN
PARTICIPATE
SHARE
TEACH
CELEBRATE
SORT
Sort? Sort out the good from the bad,
The believers from the non-believers,
or maybe it’s
PORT
Where I will be transported to forever,
The shadow of a palm tree, black against the brick,
Ancient markings above the doorways,
One lamp aglow, one dead,
If both lamps were dead I wouldn’t even see that shadow,
Am I the palm tree? No.
I turn my head to the right to see behind me its pineapple trunk in the dim light,
And then I wonder what I would be in eternity,
Would I remain this meek, pathetic creature?
I’m better off as a palm tree,
Swaying in the breeze under the apocalyptic sky.

Hour 3: Ticking

wind watch, turn key
count the seconds, watch the sand
coil spring, charge cell
check for ticking, move the hand

hurry! hurry!
busy keeping
faster! faster!
never sleeping

set the timer, sound alarm
time is money, all things pass
press reminder, heed the bell
see the children grow like grass

urgent! urgent!
no attention
danger! danger!
no prevention

rock cradle, dig grave
seize the heathen, let us pray
push forward, knock back
break tradition, seize the day

hold up! hold up!
stop the madness
too late! too late!
end in sadness

mark planner, tap foot
time is money, all things pass
grab hold, lose touch
bleached white bones and dry brown grass

urgent! urgent!
relegated
act now! act now!
delegated

 

Congregation

Such lively verbs.
In conversation, they caper with life.
As a team, they tremble with power—
more vibration than linear motion.

But something rumbles on the horizon
when a noun names himself Pharaoh.
The mission grows oily with imperative,
and the vine begins to droop.

What of the message from the coast?
Can it be trusted?
Is love an interruption?
Can we find what doesn’t hide?

We must gather our adverbs with abandon
and a shameless lack of discrimination
lest we grow numb in the company of adjectives—

but wait…is that just another ultimatum?