The Poetry Marathon

Before Darkness

Birds announced the moment of sunrise,

she approached the window,

warmth graced her face and she felt safe now,

the terror that once plagued the countryside had subsided,

the end of a war,

men fought bravely,

protecting what they considered theirs,

not just women’s bodies,

but land on which they wished to plant their seeds and plow,

before darkness, there was a lighter shade of darkness, 

shadows covering the escalation of a cultural war,

impure intentions were the norm,

no one was safe,

now–

some are safe,

grey clouds linger over certain communities,

this is the cost light,

when darkness is the norm, 

An opened window,

the ashes of burning burials had cleared,

flesh coated air– blown down the river to the next town,

she closed her eyes,

the air of new sufferers filled her lungs with shaded darkness. 

Not For Me

Somedays I think I’ll quit

and become a plumber

or a chef

or a florist

maybe writing just isn’t for me

Maybe I can arrange sweet peonies and yellow daisies better than I can arrange 26 letters

Or maybe I can unclog pipes better than I can write through a block

Or maybe I can prepare a 7-course meal better than I can prepare a poem for you to read

 

Then I am reminded at 3 am when the words are buzzing in my head, trapping themselves in my mouth, cutting my tongue like a razor blade, begging to be released on paper

That I am a writer

and there is nothing else out there for me

and there never was

or will be

Hour 03 – Before Darkness

Before Darkness

---

Before darkness can bring about the night
And steal the world’s colors from your sight,
Paint all your memories in vivid hues
To play and then rewind, if you should choose
And in your dreams, keep all the colors bright.

You cannot halt the fading of the light,
Or still your heart when shadows give a fright.
You must decide what defense you will use,
Before darkness.

Your darkened fear will offer no respite
And simple courage will have taken flight.
The strongest men, their battles sometimes lose,
But when you want to hide, you must refuse
And hold close in your heart, the days delight
Before darkness.

---

Hour 1 – Blindness

Prompt for Hour One

On the tip of my finger, a reddish button
A radioactive silence, a tale in Braille
Lonely shores, muted yawns
Artifacts a few, none too alive

A crystal I found, twice
A map to Lichtenstein
An ancient armored car
A driver’s frozen laugh

Just people, not gods

Invincible-Haiku

Withstanding all tests

Projects how you feel about

Him, them and it all

Is This Your Boy, Jack?

Imagine you’ve never met your grandmother.
You’re four years old,
in a strange house.
There’s an old woman propped up in a bed,
your father standing by.
You walk in. Did he beckon you?
You feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.
Almost seventy years later, recall the old woman’s words:
Is this your boy, Jack?

Your grandmother.
This stranger.
Just imagine.

Hour 3

Before Darkness

Part I

Don’t brush teeth.
Let Sweet Pea purr at the foot of the bed,
Eyes darting about for bugs to hunt.
Rub eyes, smeared mascara.
Stay awake.
Tabs:
Pilates Waist Workout,
15 things to make you a better inline skater,
both gmail accounts,
Zillow listings in Seattle.
The nightstand.
That half-read library book is due tomorrow.
Did I lock the front door?
I should turn off the lamp.
Too much work.
I really should read that book…

Part II

I’m playing Beethoven’s Pathetique.
Is someone practicing piano on my back?
Awake.
Sweet Pea bonks my head.
Up again.
Cat in the hallway.
Door shuts.
Lamp switch clicks…

 

Scratch scratch

meow?

 

Stinky Guy

All good cafes have a Stinky Guy.

He sits at the counter.

Same frayed plaid sports jacket,

A sweater under it in winter.

Carries a stained cloth bag.

Sits at the same counter stool.

Orders 2 scrambled eggs, 2 pieces of bacon and toast.

Reeks of the street,

Truck exhaust, gutter filth.

Skin left to its own devices,

Without water, soap, toilet paper.

Grimy fabric helps insulate other patrons

From his noisome frame.

Only the waitress gets close.

He gobbles and mumbles,

Holds his fork like a shovel.

He eats alone.

Pays in cash and tips well.

No eye contact or acknowledgement.

We all like it this way.

 

By Sue Storts

08/13/2016

 

Kinetic Jousting

Just wondering about how I see
The kinetic energies circling around as if I’m
Waiting to jump into a crowd
Keeping pieces of me spread throughout the city
Jubilation comes to those that see the irony of kites flown in the Air in junction of what we cannot do without wings
We watch it become a Knick knack as we grow
Junk in a closet to never fly again
Knowing one day we will miss it
As we joust through life

Before Darkness

 

Make ready for dawn and dusk eating Cardinals

Repair welted flower beds

Set right trash at the curb

Take a trip to compost bin before greeters arrive

Run to get ice

Once the curtains close on your day, the outside seems less friendly,

Less transparent.