The Poetry Marathon

Elemental Unity

Each feeling its power

The knew that they could win alone

For nothing surpassed the need for a solid foundation

Earth was proud to be the support of all creation

But when is as stagnant, cold, or thirst for life

The absence of everyone only brought strife.

But the wind, yes it knew it was most powerful of all

For without being seen it could make great oaks fall

But what else, once things were moved, did existence mean?

There seemed to be a need for definition to the empty scene.

Fire! Fire never questioned for a moment its supreme royal rights

It could destroy and create, darken the day and light the night

But when it smiled and turned to see validation

Fear reigned and caused its might power full devaluation

Water knew its calm demeanor and mighty power was created needs

Without it nothing could survive, no growth would ever succeed.

But as it evaporated into nothing, it knew it needed more

All that it could was limited by acts it no ability to explore.

As they faced one another, all capable, powerful, and unique

They each knew that their best there was greater goal to seek

They found their individual powers were always far enhanced

When unity was the meeting place from which they all advanced.

jj2017

Earth, Wind, Fire and Water

She and her warmth,and her smile so lady-like

When she giggles and runs-oh so childlike

When she runs her fingers everything blooms

The air is filled with lots of perfumes

 

She’s the carefree child, so wild and gleeful

She laughs and shouts with her heart that is full

When she’s mad she destroys everything that’s in sight

But caresses when relaxed and you will feel light

 

She’s a woman so hot, raging and bold

She’ll express anything that is I was told

When in rage she’ll devour all the things that she sees

But when calm she’ll give warmth and you’ll be at ease

 

And this woman that’s next is a giver of life

Love her and she’ll make a very good wife

She will save everyone from pain and from harm

Treat her right treat her well and let her be calm

 

These ladies these sisters dynamic and bold

So inseparable though different what a sight to behold

They complement each other and should not separate

For without the other we will have sad fate.

 

 

 

In The Beginning

And then, the flow began:
The life that was their own,
The life that was her own
That urged a broad wingspan;
No longer words, alone
No longer friends outgrown….

She found true love without a man;
Won lands afar without a throne;
Traversed where none had ever flown –
And all of this, without a plan,
Without a soul yet to condone
The very life she’d only known

With only whispers of “I can…!”
She lifts her eyes, will not bemoan
The very life, love some’d disown;
Though from malaise he’d said she ran,
Through heartaches, breaks come on full-blown,
She’d come to now, to but intone,

To sing like ancient Solomon
Her heart’s truth, life and love depone
In psalms, her soul’s brilliant lodestone;
To find in sweet, attentive span
And unfailingly true touchstone
Her life, her love ne’er to atone…

And then, and so her flow began….

Melted and moulded

Like a phoenix the fire burnt me

With the winds my ash prevailed,

Mixed with water they painted their heads with my ash while going for a war,

The war which is supposed to be fought on the wax grounds,

Wax will flow from the waxed wounds,

And when the wax surrounds

I’ll grow from wax,

My roots will be wax,

Wax will be my trunk,

So let me be a flower of wax

Which cannot be burnt by fire,

Which cannot be drowned by water,

Which cannot be dried by air,

So they molded me like the earth,

And heated me by their sins,

And hence I’ll melt again,

To be moulded​ into a meteoroid and will fall on some other lifeless planet,

To be moulded again as Gods,

As Adam and Eve

As the Eden’s

As the guy Darwin who will put a drop of me into ocean to get solidified with the immense calmness and pressure of the Ocean’s bed,

Hence I’ll rise again as life, to be moulded and reshaped for millenniums into civilization,

To be melted again on some war grounds,

To be moulded into a phoenix of desires,

The whole universe will rise from my ash,

And will be moulded from my wax,

round and round.

Escaping the water, fire, air

Just to become earth for a war ground.

Elementary

Wind-swept minds

Torch her to flare up poems

Boats float on soiled water

Hour 1 : HOPE

The fire of her love

Why makes me cold

Like sea water, so bold

Acts as a protecting glove

The wind of sighs

Ultimate heaps of cries

Enhance the life with emotions

Love is the mother of commotions

On the earth; where we sow

A day will come, together we grow

 

Earth, Air, Fire, Water

Puzzle pieces so small, singular in composition and form, but ready to grow forth.
From these, creations are endless.
Worlds come, not from great bursts of sudden creation, but alterations of minute importance, piled atop each other for infinity.

Earth, solidity upon which everything from metropolises to grass can grow.
Air, that gasping layer of ever-shifting matter so ever-present and gentle as it fills your lungs, but also explosive enough to shatter the roof above your head, or tear a home from its foundation.
Fire, warmth that beats back the frozen emptiness which grows within your bones, and a cleanser of evil, painful memories, and that which once grew and lit the land of the living with its presence, but now must be interred among its native soil.
Water, cool, refreshing, and life-giving when pure and true, but all too ready to absorb and carry along the filth and scree of our creations and mistakes.

This world on which we live was already built for us when we got here.
There are wonders of natural beauty in every direction or eyes can see, and beneath our feet, waiting inches from our fingertips,
If only we would decide to explore this erratic, invaluable, complicated, undiscovered, unending, tactile, and beautiful world on which we live.

Quintessence

Extend your hand until it touches
my skin or until the sand falls through
extended fingers, caught by the wind
and blown to the distant sea.

I have longed for your touch but I
understand it is nothing but carbon animated
by fire and blood and a cloud of angry
electrons, impossibly distant.

Some say we are nothing but stardust,
so why this keening for what is lost?

The fifth element lies within, buried
in the reliquary of my heart.

 

Hour One: Smoke

“the smoke is bad today,” she said, “so hard to breathe. I almost called in.”

our black cat drinks from her water bowl that I change out every other day.

Neighbor, Jim, waters his two hundred plus varieties of dahlias, shirtless wearing just shorts and boots.

“the fires in Canada are spreading,” she said. “the winds push the smoke down across the border into our bay.”

our white cat curls into my lap purring, giving me kisses and soft bites.

The Red Wine Apostates

We don’t get around much anymore.
The Northland signs tell us
who’s had a bad shopping experience –
even after the lot around the corner’s
been mown and lot sale signs placed,
no one’s had the audacity
to remove the
Beware Gladrents
in its crooked, angry, thick red scrawl –
and those unopened eateries
beckon our delight
to finally yelp
our indignation
once our fine, elephant minds
pull our husbands out of the car lots
and grocery store lunchrooms
in time to change their Dockers and loafers
for shorts and sneakers.

We have it soft here
(even if our arms are sun-mottled).

The city looks so dangerous anymore.