The Poetry Marathon

Step Back Into Life – Poem 21/24

Dear Loved One,

 

I cannot express myself too clearly

When I vocalise the words

So I have decided

To write you this poem:

 

King of your castle, the world at your feet…

That’s how I prefer to see you my Sweet;

But the smile on your face seems different, today

As it touches your eyes in down tones of Gray.

The tone in your voice spells the fear in your heart,

Revealing a lifetime of bruises and scars.

Action speaks louder than words as you try

To disguise your wounded soul

While you silently cry

For moments and years that were twisted by fate,

And for time that was wasted through senseless debate.

 

But with me, dear Beloved, you don’t have to pretend –

Just relax in my presence – let me help you to mend

All that terrible brokenness – conquer all strife

As you slowly, but surely, step back into life.

 

Antoinette LeRoux © 2016

Image courtesy of Google Images

23 // origami

I fold as easy as an origami square
my legs in half at my knees

and again at my hips
my arms crease and tuck

into each other
until I’m a cube

I fill with water as easy as an origami cube
but watch how I don’t burst

Hour 22

Blue clouds are out way out you cannot be without its smooth flow
Blue like the sea
The beauty is magnificent
Its all I can see

Blue clouds oh how your beauty bright glistens as the Sunshine’s
Blue clouds whisper words of love
So serene it captivates the hearts
Busting through the blue clouds
are Its yellow rays

Its like life itself is shone bright right from the start
Floats like a dove
Way up in the sky
Blue clouds brings us
Peace of mind.

copyright 2016 Roxann A Harvey

22 // one art

trying to make sense
fascinated with living
science / poetry

Under the sky #19

I live under the sky,

I consider this my home,

of course I share this with strangers by,

as I continue to roam.

 

When I was young,

lived with my brother, did I?

I no longer remember the tales he sung,

but he told me, we lived under the sky.

 

I believe my true abode,

belongs with dear brother mine,

but upon him the inheritance bestowed,

and with him I could no longer dine.

 

And so we spoke no longer,

of our days together,

he seemed to get younger,

and spent his time without his brother.

 

And people ask me,

would I like to hear,

‘Welcome home’ from he?

quite not, my dear.

 

I live under the sky,

I consider this my home,

of course I share this with strangers by,

and need no ‘Welcome home’.

No Parties

No parties for me I’m all tuckered out,

I’m need in some sleep, and I can’t even shout.

My eyes want to close andy body is heavy,

I’d get in my car but I don’t drive a Chevy.

I Should Title This.

Footseps imbedded again and again

Contrarily my walls are smooth like then

When the walls screamed and the owners

Had fun.

 

Through the centuries we’ve changed

Quite a bit is different now.

But one thing’s just the same you know

The Hall.

 

A new entry today

A man or a beast?

Do you think you know?

Before he can do anything

Before the walls and change

We realize too late,

Our hallway is insane.

The River (Hour Twenty-Three)

Down the path and into sunlight,

And suddenly you are on show

To everyone already swimming.

Down the grassy path to a bank of muddy sand,

A few people at a time

Always leave their shoes, shorts, and shirts here.

Some cross the river, passing by the rocks

Jutting from the water’s surface,

Picking their way across a sand and stony bottom,

Sometimes slipping, sometimes swimming,

Arriving on the other side,

Rising, dripping.

The sand is tan and dusty and hot.

Some stack stones for occupation,

Others talk,

Some build lean-tos to sit under,

Or use ones left behind.

Young children run and chase on the sand,

Older children jump daringly from rocks into the water.

Both shatter the river stillness with the sounds of their play.

And now and then, the summer buzz of a horsefly or two.

This place I’ve been all week

Uncomfortable

cold and colors

mundane

but here I bring

my solace

my upset stomach

my stomach pains

my body bows

to the porcelain

and my sickness

pours out

then I wash my hands

and warm my self

before I crawl back

into my cloths

of comfort

and safety

as the world

turns my stomach

yet again

the room that

holds memories

of how I was up

and down and

up and down again

simple formula

no answer yet in sight

and when I have the

strength to fix the smells

I use the head of

rain to make pellets

hit my body just right

working up the steam

to match the temperature

just perfect

whether or not

I feel good or I don’t

the moment here

is always worth it

gels and washes

creams and potions

a longer run

in the rain forest

followed by oils and lotions

and that can at least

boost my spirits

if not make me feel better

this is where I spent my

week being far under

the weather.

 

FJ original 2016

Say What You Mean

Hollow phrases from empty faces
Robotic repetitions rendered meaningless
Some used to be polite, but now they are just trite

Why is “Welcome home” usually followed by a complaint or fight?
Or is it just something that happened to be on a cute doormat?

Are your “Thank you” statements truly meaningful?
or merely social obligation?

When I hear “Excuse me” or “Pardon me” I realize instantaneously,
someone is eager to push their way through and shove me aside.

How very rude!