The Poetry Marathon

2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Two: The morning air is cool to the touch

At 150,000 miles
the sun appeared
a reddish dot
against an indistinct grey sky
its color a clever cover
for the furnace within

Bleary-eyed
and a bit numb
I drift through my morning routine
thinking of as little as possible
because I know what happens
when I start thinking

I tried to photograph the scene
but the sun literally paled
photographs, like memories
capture only so much
losing the rest
to what we wanted them to be

The morning air
is cool to the touch
I know that feeling too well
that’s what happens
when the hand is withdrawn
leaving the desire behind

(5 August 2017)

Next week will be a year

And what if I never see you again? What if
your hair and heart and humor are lost
forever, save files given away
and erased, a concrete cat with a guitar and a grin
forgotten and thrown away?
How to heal when so little remains:
the pie balancing surfboard sold,
the mail jail disappeared,
mostly empty mugs with tea bags scattered
then all cleaned up that final time.
Am I less without you?

Combat boots

my mother’s shoe boxes stack

to the ceiling, a visual representation

of all she left behind and all

she never will.  

 

3am and his footprints

are still in the hall, red

boots with silver buckles. 10pm

and she can hear her daughter

crying softly in her room.  black

ankle boots.  first date boots the

ring is off her finger but the ghost

of it still remains boots taking her children

to the therapist boots mommy are you

going to die like daddy did boots but

 

she walks them into

a better life.  into hiking

in the mountains of Vegas

and buying a house that doesn’t

haunt her.  she tells me “Don’t let

people define you.  If you need good

support, then buy better shoes, and

these?” she says, “these are my

getting married boots.”  

Poem 2: Yearn

I do not shear my hair,
Have never donned flannel,
Know nothing about drywall
Or changing my oil.
No labrys tattoo
Slices across my bicep.
I do not sing in the key of rainbow.

I roar through the world,
fat, elegant, and loud.
rolls slapping and rumbling,
my smiles snagging eyes
like foxtails in my socks.
I am 300 pounds of gloriously visible
gravitational pull.
Try and look away.

But labryses cut deep,
and slices of me flake
away, unknown and unheard.

Maybe I yearn.
Maybe my body chants
hot rhythms of desire.
Maybe my fingers twitch toward her.
Maybe my breath dances
to the beat of her footsteps.
Maybe my curves seek to
mold themselves to her bulk.
Maybe we could burn, hot and sweet,
some kind of meteor entering
the drag of atmosphere.
Maybe my words praise her,
my belly ripples in need,
my hair longs to snag in her fingers.
Maybe I belong.

Or maybe not.

I am a giant, a ball of fire
circling the sky.
I can cook the ignorant
and blind the unwary.
I rage in silent splendor,
spilling heat and attention,
body clapping
in appreciation
so deep.

Maybe she burns, too.

Partners

 

Love

Always

In my heart

For those I choose

My actions do show

Feelings are always there

Because of you I can share

All that life brings for us to bear

Every day you are there heart and soul

My life your life our future is now whole

In Stars

I write my secrets in the stars

holding hope

one day the constellations

will catch your eye

Leave the words

painted on black canvas

The light to hold all I can not say

If they should fall

place my dreams there

May this longing light the night

This light guide me, find you

 

 

 

 

 

“Two – Machines of Night”

 

A Lust Letter – For My Dulcinea

 

To my most darling, Dearest, morning’s come
and all the work of night has passed away
into its jaws. The earnest laws of man
are moving on the streets and greet our dreams
with clatter and with clash. Machinery’s dumb,
ridiculous and awkward steel ballet
will sweep us up, all of us, in the span
of sun’s day, but I swear, by all its beams:

Oh, when the sun shall pass away today,
and when the moon shall rise, when falls the tide.
Oh, when the pulse of day becomes the heat
igniting in the dark, the spark, I’ll say,

“Fear not, mi corazon, man’s day has lied.
The machineries of night are far more sweet.”

Hush, Child

They — the ubiquitous, omnipresent they —

Told me
Loudly, and in no uncertain terms
That I was not sad.
That I was better off, really
(so much better off, honey, really).

They — the all-knowing, all-seeing they —

Told me
Frequently, so that I wouldn’t (couldn’t ever) forget
That I was chosen.
That it was for the best, really
(so much better off, don’t be ungrateful, really).

They — the powers-that-be they —

Told me
How I felt
How I didn’t feel
How I was allowed to feel
(I’m better off, I won’t be ungrateful, really.)

They
Told me.

But I am no longer a child
And I will no longer be hushed
I will whisper it into the dark
Until someday

I
Will tell

Them.

I let you slip

I let you slip

 

I tried,

with everything I am made of,

and not made of,

to keep you buried in me deeper than every secret I’ve ever kept in darkness

by fire and blood and wine.

I tried.

 

But I let you slip.

I let you slip to the pages of my note book where I pen you on the daily –

the reams and reams of poems in your delicious memory…

by candle light on your perfect body –

some written there, too.

 

I let you slip to leaf and flower and fruit

on the paths I walked to try any shake you free from the places in me I could not hold you

for arms too weak to carry all my heart has for you.

 

I let you slip from my lips,

whisper your name into my hands

into those moments of heat and longing when I should be most silent,

or moaning,

so my blood could cool for a second or two –

free from the lightning storm you have released in me.

 

I let you slip

everyday

I let you slip through me in the way my eyes reflect how I love you,

even from such a distance as this

how I love you

I let you slip through me

hoping no one else will catch you

slipping

through me.

 

© R. L. Elke

Aug 5/17 Prompt 2

I am your mind

No you don’t need that!

 

But I…

 

Trust me!

 

But what if…?

 

I have known you before you even had desires!

 

This is…

 

Now shhh..for a while and listen to me,

I am your thy, your thou, I am your thee!

 

I have heard your yearning,

I have seen your bearing,

All I am saying is to ignore for a while,

Take a walk, take a bath may be run for a mile,

When you’ll see your lungs escape,

A gasp of air will become your fate,

What is the point of sharing them,

As no one seems to be caring for them,

Your yearnings,

your earnings,

your learnings belongs to you,

Your heart your soul belongs to you,

All I’m saying is to shut your eyes,

And go beyond the illusionary lies,

Meditate

meditate;

Ohhhh please don’t hesitate,

 

Together we will solve the tragedy,

I am not your OCD,

I am your ally and enemy,

Go down in memories

and please be a bit kind,

Always hearing your queries

I am your mind.