The Poetry Marathon

8 pm

a dance with grief, solitary steps towards the partner you never wanted to meet. stepping in, bowing out, a bit closer and then dash away to measure, examine, evaluate, and incorpirate this small pain into who you are today. never the whole heartache, only fragments because you are no longer whole, and each fragment is paired with a sliver of your soul. a patina changing your appearance as well as the way you see. not rose colored. never roses again. muddy, soiled, and dark is your life now.

Escape to Glory Lake

The harvest moon was stunning
Shining through the torn canopy of our stolen Jeep.
We laughed and cried and held each other
At the edge of Glory Lake
Knowing the panic fear and horror, of the invasion was far behind us.

Friendship -Prompt Ten

We met when I was eleven
And she had just turned ten
I moved into her neighborhood
And we became fast friends
Five decades plus have passed us
Our friendship rounding many bends
But one thing we both can tell you
Our friendship will never end.
Due mainly to her love
Unwavering as it is
She’s stuck by me
Through two husbands
And twice as many kids.
I never had to call her
She knew when I was in need
And when I needed to follow
She gladly took the lead
So many things about her
Are beautiful and pure
I only wish everyone
Could find a friend like her

When Love meets Math

Asymptotes.
No matter how close they can get with each other,
They will never ever be together.

Parallel Lines.
No matter how much they cling and long for it,
They can do nothing about love if their hearts will never even meet.

Tangent lines.
No matter how hard they try to be with each other,
Their paths are only destined to meet at one point and be apart forever.

The thing about Math and Love is, they are both inclined
With complicated and painful situations.
But one good thing about them is,
In every problem, there would still be solutions.

The Modern Restaurant

Loud, pretentious, brassy conditions.

Too few partitions.

I’ll be taking care of you.

Perky and solicitous.

Fulfilling all your wishes.

Tasty and delicious?

Awesome, those dishes?

Smiling and accepting the over-priced, over-advertised food fabrications.

Pretending that superlatives apply to simple samplings.

Feigning satisfaction.

High calories,

A well-deserved reward for hard work and high salaries.

 

 

By Sue Storts

08/13/2016

 

Poem 12- The Ideal Contemporary Relationship

I began with a poem about the ideal dreamlike 16th century courtship between Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway, and I end with something more contemporary. Similar dreamy idyllic moments, but completely different realities. How will this story turn out? Read on…

My head rests against his breastbone

The canopy closing us in a cocoon of our own

Away from all forms of scrutiny

As I lean in to kiss him

My heart is like a lake brimming over in the monsoons

Filled not with water

But a positively caffeinated hormonal cocktail

I know I am not dreaming

As I smell his cologne

Perfumed diesel, after effects of a jeep breakdown and a spare tire change

A stormy calm

Before a calm, bubbling storm

I lean back

I look into his face

Pleasant, no doubt

But not what I want, not now

The canopy obscures us from outside scrutiny

But it also obscures the outside world and its treasures from us

And I am impatient and inquisitive to see the rest of it

The torrential monsoon becomes a faint New England drizzle

The lake has had its fill

I am ready to move on

 

Cinema dream sequences usually get the details right

It’s the ends they get wrong

Because in our world, there is more than one type of ideal end

 

“I had a great time.” “Me too.” “We should do this again sometime.”

We get up together, and embrace one last time

Walking back home in opposite directions

 

 

 

A Letter to You

I hope that it will be

The best day of your life.

That I prepare the best I can,

Though I don’t always get it right.

That I will strive to do all I need to do,

To shape a better world for you,

One with peace, joy, balance, and safety from harm,

Where you can always be wrapped in my warm, loving arms.

I worry for your life every single day,

I think about you in my choices, from what I eat, where I sleep, to how I abstain,

To whom I pray.

May God bless everything I do because of you,

Even though you are yet conceived, one day you will be an extension of me.

My beautiful unborn dream child,

Someday I will see your smile,

And I will witness the glory of your growth,

And I will always be proud.

Third wheel

The moonlight reflecting off the glassy lake surface shines light on her breastbone.  Instinctively, she panics, out of habit, nothing more.

 

She lies her head back on her blanket as she looks at the stars.

 

And he watches her, in all her glory, shine brightest of all.

Camping memories

Memories of camping

Being out by the lake

Marking a fire

And cooking dinner over it

Play games in the woods

Not for a prize

but for glory only

Pitching a big tent

That has room to spare

Roasting marshmallows

and making s’mores.

Then looking through

the canopy of leaves

Up at the moon and stars.

These quiet nights

Of camping

I’ll always remember.

 

12 (1)

The moon shines
through your window
and you know
that today there’s no glory
for your team

You spare a thought
for solo athletes
who also haven’t had
the best of days

But it’s no time
to shed a lake of tears
there is still time
and other rounds

So panic not,
pick up a pen,
and write a poem,
send them luck