The Poetry Marathon

We are Women

I am my mother’s child

I come by it naturally

I see it in her daily

And now I see it in me

It’s in my sister

It’s in my nieces

It’s in my aunts and cousins too

Women in our family

We are incredibly strong

We are smart and quick

We steer the ship

We will not be pushed around

We will dominate the ground

You cannot tell us what to do

We will be the ones telling you

I am proud of who I am

I hope it makes my mother proud

To see she raised a family

Of strong, independents

She is the matriarch

We don’t need a patriarch

We are women

Hear us roar

Camera Obscura

As observed by Mozi, we are an image turned upside-down

Aristotle’s sun was broken by wickerwork, by the leaves of a tree

We are illumined, according to Theon, by unbent rays.

Alhazen has given to us a dark room, an aperture for reversal,

And DaVinci saw our darkened eyes filled with light.

Shen Kuo writes of an object, pearl bright, hovering above the city of Yangzuo,

Casting shadows in the night for miles; brilliant, intense, and strange.

Breakfast with Curmudgeon

That guy got our table. I hate siting in the middle.

Trade places with me. I don’t want to sit with my back to the door.

 

Great! Right next to the family with the baby.

It’s too loud in here. I hate it when all those women come in.

 

See that guy? He insisted on holding the door open for me.

He’s a f*ckin’  Republican.

His wife looks like she just ate a lemon.

 

I guess I’ll have the usual. I don’t want to scare my stomach.

 

Why do they put News on the TV? Why do you watch that crap? It’ll rot your brain.

And the Sports Channel. Who cares about golf? Baseball’s the only game worth watching.

 

Food’s here.  Looks good.

 

The yolk’s too runny.

Sh*t! I dropped it on my clean shirt. I just put it on this morning.

 

Hear that girl’s voice at the table behind you?

What do they call that, fry? Vocal fry?

Her voice is fried better than these eggs.

 

I like the corned beef hash better at the other place.

The coffee’s decent here, though.

  

You finished?

I’ll pay the bill. You start the get-away car.

I left the tip on the table.

 

 Thanks. Enjoyed it.

Take care. See you next week.  

 

 

By Sue Storts

08/13/2016

He is time #3

He, yes he, himself is time,

time so rich, oh bountiful time,

it plays on his finger tips, when it is rightfully thine,

and sits by his feet, when it is rightfully thine.

 

Some call him a thief, a burglar at night,

they watch their doors for a burglar at night,

but he is innocent when he is out of sight,

can’t put a name on a face when he is out of sight.

 

He spends his time more ludicrously than money,

when time is to be saved like a babe without money,

his actions are rather uncanny,

and his words can’t be deemed anything but uncanny.

 

Yes, this is the tale of a man with no end,

this is the tale of the man who will see the end,

this is a man you should not offend,

this is the man who will offend.

Hour 5–Technology

I write a poem

while a machine washes clothes

I press Publish–Voila!

 

Hour 4 – A Fatal Encounter

Prompt for Hour Four

They came silently, the sky was glowing black
The old man was not home, the lights were off
They waited
steel gave patience company
You could see time chasing the moon
through indifferent clouds
The wood-paneled interiors
musty, overdone, cheap
They waited, and then some more
A car drives up; Keys, door, slam, steps, clatter
The room lights up, the old man sees them, nods
They shuffle, work to be done
steel brings peace
Lights off, they walk out, the night is silent
All promises kept, every score settled

Poem 5- The Technology Cinquain

Technology,
Convenience, Laziness,
Exaggerating, Liberating, Exciting,
Tradition faded out of existence,
Science.

Not Defeated

When the enemy attacks,
I’ve got my bible bat,
I put on the whole armour,
I face him and strike him,
No longer will I continue to let him gain on me and hit me with his sneak attacks! For I am more than a conqueror,
It’s in my God’s word,
No I won’t fear, No I won’t be afraid, Nope I won’t be dismayed,
For my God covers me, My Jesus walks with me, and The Holy Ghost keeps me, So what’s that you say, Oh no devil not today or any day!
I am planted, rooted, grounded, and I will not sway! For I am a child of the King, and no good thing will He withhold from me, So my day will be better, No better than better,
because regardless of your attacks devil,
I still have the victory!!

Poem Five ~ Skype

I imagine you asleep, curled up in my bed.
My bed. I want more than just my own indent
there. I want your’s. This small world I have,
it is big enough for the both of us, I promise.

I imagine you meeting my friends. We could
go out for a drink together, and no one would
have to tell stories about someone who doesn’t
exist, and no one feels left out.

I imagine you here, with me, and we could do
anything. But it’s only imagination because
you’re there, and the only time I see you
is through this screen. I want to see you soon.

An ode to my phone (an iOde)

O screen of glass who bears many a touch
Deliverer of knowledge and of laughs
At times you have become a mental crutch
You work for me more than an office staff
Your curvature is straight though you are old
For a device that is; your years are four
The time will come when I will have you sold
As you will slow and weaken in your core
New processors and screens will come to be
And obsolescence will become your fate
Though you have spent these many days with me
You will exceed your best-before due date
O screen of Glass who’s always in my space
It’s not your fault that you will be replaced.