The Poetry Marathon

My God, I Love You

What kind of God are you, anyway?
That you can be right here with me,
Every moment of every day
Is completely amazing.

I have heard your footsteps,
Understood your musings,
Followed your guidance,
Listened to your warnings.

But, I cannot praise you.
Simple praise is not enough.
Hallelujah and Glory to you
Pales to who you truly are.

I cannot love you enough,
Knowing you love me more.
I cannot give back
What you have given me.

Life, again. Pulled out of the darkness,
Formed from the Tree,
A child on your knee
Watching rainbows
Flutter through the leaves.

I heard the voice of your father
Thunderous, like clashing clouds,
Demanding my silence.
And yet, I barely obey.

You smiled at me when last I saw you.
I miss you.

7 PM

I am tired but I am here
I just want to be more than here
I want to be present
Fully alive
Available
Myself
I want to be captured by beauty
And be ok in my own skin
To stop overthinking
And really live
Maybe one day I’ll write about more
But for right now
Every line in my poem
Leads me back to this:
Happiness comes when I am fully awake

Presence

What are all these channels

You open up in me

An encounter with you

And its like those cleansed auras they talked about

Everything lot more clearer

More permeable

Reaching a rare level of

Sensitivity

Sensibility

Everything acutely felt

Accurately expressed

Do you realise

The results

Of your

Presence

Your presence settles

On the tired shoulders of my being

Like a warm mantle of

Love

Hugging me close

Holding me upright

Your warm presence

Encircling me

Walking by my side

Keeping me close

Your presence

Is so precious

 

Joined at the Hip #12

Joined at the Hip

 

I have a new hip and her name is Nellie

She can hear the phone ring before it rings

Titanium with lovely long screws

We are never apart

 

October is our anniversary, our first

We travel to Dartmouth to visit

The tall dark handsome Italian surgeon

Originally from Long Island, he’s married

 

Nellie is silent during our exam

I hold her when they take x-rays

She is brave and leans just the right way

I whisper to him of her sister’s impending arrival

 

On the way home we stop at that homemade ice cream shop

Nellie declines worrying about the extra weight

I poo poo her and enjoy a large maple walnut cone

She does not make me feel guilty, I love her

6 PM

I close my eyes and drift to a place
Where I am always happy and at peace
Where I am organized and productive
Where my life is shining and clean
Where my book is a best seller
And I travel the world with my babies
Where every word I say matters
Then I stop
Rewind a bit
Backtrack from an imaginary future
To the past
Where I was a scared little girl
With nothing but dreams
Afraid to speak
And that I’d never be enough
And I know
We’ve come a long way, baby
This is only Part 1
The rest of my story will have plenty of twists

Our Night

Behind the jeep we stood

the moon is out tonight,

it shines down on the lake;

the stars surround so bright.

Will you spare a kiss?

I know that you won’t miss,

perhaps we need to move

don’t leave me here to wish.

 

Now you walk ahead

you pause in all your glory,

as you stare at me

I hope that you’re not sorry.

It doesn’t seem that way

as you take my hand,

now we rush ahead

our night is full of plans.

 

 

 

Amish culture

Wow you are kidding me!
Who can live without electricity?!
No matter what the weather dress is always the same.
They marry within their culture. Humble is their name.

Who can live without electricity?!
That makes less time in a day.
They marry within their culture.
Within their culture they stay.

That makes less time in a day.
For many things that can be done.
Within their culture they stay.
Without knowing what more of Life can become.

For many things that can be done. They grow their own food.
Within their culture they stay Living long and healthy they don’t move

Poem 12

the moon loomed overhead,
full and bursting in a sorta pale glory
our jeep crept towards the lake’s shore
we admired the horizon.
the lake and sky could not be separated,
we were cloaked in a blanket of the deepest, darkest blue.
it was a still night, silent
and peaceful.
a band of trees created a canopy of shadows, off the lakeshore,
the moonlight could not penetrate.
crickets sang a chorus, as the leaves rustled softly.
we shared a whispered conversation,
not wanting to disturb the night’s stillness.
An owl hooted from the treetops,
we loved nights like this, enjoying one another’s company,
savoring the moon’s reflection on the lake

poetry marathon

twenty four poems

twenty four hours- Oh my God

feeling the pressure

SCRO 5 pm

HALFWAY DONE! Here’s the 12th panel. (As before, click once and again for a close-up. Your only hope if you actually want to read any of it.) (Even then, chances are ish.)