The Poetry Marathon

Eve

This Christmas was going to be special
She’d been planning since September
The tree was going to be simply fantastic
She made all the ornaments by hand

It would be Molly’s last Christmas
before she went off to college
And would be the first Christmas
With her new husband

It’s November now. Thanksgiving a few weeks away.
Every day is a day closer to Molly’s move
Today, she made pancakes, eggs, and fresh orange juice
Bobby ate all of his; her son had such an appetite.

But Molly, worried about her figure.
Hardly ate.
Her husband rushed them off to school.
She kissed them one by one.

She hadn’t suspected her husband
to return early.
kill her and
bury her in pieces in four different
counties.

There will be no Christmas now.
Thanksgiving will be cancelled.
Her children.
All she wanted was her children.
Who will cook their breakfast now?

If i escape

My life

Will someone

Miss me

Call me back

Panic at my absence

Will they notice

The void

Of my presence

That was

Do i dare

Risk

Making myself unavailable

What if they

Decide

I am dispensable

They can make do without me

Will someone

Drop his ego

Say he loves me

Say he needs me

Take me back home

Do i dare take a leap

And see if

Somone

Will jump in after me

What if they do

What if they don’t

Up or Down?

There is a ladder

It goes two ways, up and down,

Which one will you choose?

(#11/12): “Peregrinator”

Swirling upon this drift of seasons,

My perspective ever changes.

Whither shall I wonder?

 

© 2016 SP

looking at it

The sun rises

Night has quietly left

The starts agreed

To remain covered

They don’t want the attention

They know

They will shine again.

 

Birds have started chirping a song

Telling the world

Look at the beautiful day

How bright it is

Something great can be done today

 

Clouds are gathering in the sky

Making way for the rain

she wants to visit again

 

I am looking at it all

While thinking

Its time to forget the pain..

Hour 13 – Missing Person

She’s Gone

---

The pain inside my soul
is painted and flavored
by the emptiness I feel,
thinking of the eternity of time
I now must spend wandering alone
toward the grave that awaits us all.

There was a time,
not so very long ago
that I was happy.

I truly believed in the eternal nature
of the promises you made
that summer day you took my name
and cemented the bonds.

I find it hard now to believe
my naivete and blindness.

The scars are permanent, but I find
my love for you is also.

I hope someday you can put away the need to escape
and rediscover the happy sober person
I was once blessed to spend my days with.

I lost her somewhere – I pray that you can find her
and be happy.

---

(#10/12): “Ode to B.H.O.”

His gallant heart.

His poetic soul.

His exquisite oratory.

And extraordinary intellect.

 

This fine gentleman.

This marvellous union of two cultures.

This great statesman.

This outstanding leader of the free world.

 

Pray that we shall see his like again.

 

© 2016 SP

(#9/12): “A Lake, Placid.”

In the distance I see,

Nature’s unruffled calm, and unperturbed serenity.

Where nothing beats,

Except my awed heart.

 

© 2016 SP

Hour 12 – Prompt 12 – An adventure in nature’s arms

With the moon as our extended torch,
we proceeded with our plan to visit
the Pangong Tso lake

We hoped to view the glory of sunrise,
enjoy the beauty of friendship between
the lake and the rays

Our Jeep ate up the miles from our tent
to the designated place, the tires and rocks
creating a music in motion

We heard a sudden screechy sound of tire burst,
and came to a stop at an odd angle, having
missed to see a deep hole

We got down with great difficulty, thanked that
we had a spare — pulled the jeep out after thirty
minutes of sweat and effort

We made quick work to fix the tire, set off — looking
at the road as we drove, rather than the stars and
hoping we don’t miss the sunrise

The sun listened to our plea and delayed its rise,
waited for us to reach and settle under the canopy
of stars and clouds

The panic and rapid heartbeat of the near miss we
had was replaced with the anticipation to capture
the handshake of nature

Hour 13- Missing

I now begin the second half

My poetry partner husband

Has abandoned me for sleep

24 too much for him this year

His computer chair is empty

His computer silent

I sit alone

The fans wailing

Just me and the words

Just me

How strange it is

To be alone again

The camaraderie broken,

the poems languish without his ear

The tiredness becomes mine to bear

He is missing

I miss him,

The marathon changes

I must make the journey alone.