The Poetry Marathon

Sonerous Breaths

I would like to invite you to join us in celebration of
Two most momentous occasions: two sides of the breath.
The first inhale
The last exhale
One marks the beginning, and one the end

This fete full of marvels and milestones
Is sure to bestir such great gasps of wonder
At times
Observe
the first view of the milky way
the whale breaching
the aurora borealis
A litter of kittens beneath the stoop

Between the first breath and the last is monotony and adventure
And endless sea of breaths
Gathered full force,
a lifetime of breaths could suction out the essence of space and put it all back again
But we cannot know such power
And so we sip politely each our own lung-fulls, and empty them again, never counting, never knowing when the last one will come
The first one hurt so badly, was such a shock, and the last one will just be the last
The sonerous breath
To whisk the dandelion seeds across the lawn
Gather in you lungs the briny breath of sea
A breath that hitches in surprise, but eventually seeps back out into the ether
The roiling rising disturbance from beneath water,
The duration of said celebration cannot be determined
Until the final sleep where the breathing ends

VIRAGO #1

Quickly, now, we tiptoed,

away from Notorious Joe,

our cover we were sure not to blow,

“Ouch!” A throbbing big toe.

 

Jack whispered, “Oh woe.”

the torch in his hands aglow,

no light from the kitchen window,

the glass, imported from Glasgow.

 

“Be quiet!” Jack nearly bellowed,

a vase sent crashing due to his elbow,

made in Malay Archipelago,

says the label, but it’s really from Mexico.

 

Little me said, “Oh, oh”

as Joe walked in with an espresso,

and she was mostly known as a virago,

and she was mostly known as a virago.

#1 – The Left Side of Paradise (The End of Something)

running away like children, invisible as the wind
running away like children, needing to pretend
running away like children, dreaming of anywhere
running away to someplace, never here nor there

The left side of paradise, where trains run all night long,
where people dance in frenzy to every too sad song.
We met in secret rendezvous, amid some spoons and candles.
Somewhere by the downtown stops, she lost her leather sandals.
Her heart was pure but beating fast, her pulse a fire alarm.
It came before she knew its name, she believed it meant no harm.
Her love was gone before it hit the ground, some say I almost cried
The locket lost was never found, the sinners gathered surely lied

The left side of paradise, hides secrets to make them grand
Breath is just an illusion and time feels more than sand
They played upon the treetops with mighty plans for greatness
and year by year their desire pushed them, unaware the lateness
Grasping straws and heaven’s orbs they so valiant struggled,
thinking they gained control, while godly devices merely juggled,
smiling rainbows to make them smile, but forcing life awry
The laughter sounded thunderous, as the circle had them die

running away like children, invisible as the wind
running away like children, needing to pretend
running away like children, dreaming of anywhere
running away to someplace, never here nor there

The left side of paradise, where rains bring only acid
from generations of humans whose fear bordered placid
They moved about as icons of beings once adorned
until fate delivered judgment and humans left were scorned
Ride about in dreamy cars and devour the claws of crab,
pick apart the mountains, ignore the sweet Mother’s scab
Play the games of livelihood and teach children to pretend,
the joke’s on us in Paradise as a beginning becomes our end.

running away like children, invisible as the wind
running away like children, needing to pretend
running away like children, dreaming of anywhere
running away to someplace, never here nor there

~chowilawu~

HOUR ONE: THIS END

If ever there was a time, it is now

If ever a wandering, it was then

If I’d known the heft, I might not have set out

If I’d known that weight and weightlessness would contend

For a prime spot each dawn, wedged in my chest

For the headliner, once wrapped in the sheets

For the right to make a strange choice of dress

For the chance to give or to withhold sleep

So you ask me about the sorry end,

So you ask about this end

So you ask as the day fades, the light dims,

So I say the words again

I couldn’t get it right,

day after day, night after night,

We couldn’t get it right,

Year in, year out, crosshatching doubt

On Edge

I am on edge

waiting for something

to happen

filled with dread.

I question what festers

inside my head.

What could that be?

I am on edge

help me recall

what you have said.

So many things

I hurt inside

if I could remember

all the good

instead.

I am on edge

should I be

thankful I’m not

dead instead?

 

 

 

 

Hour One: Tea Party

Tea Party

 

Sipping slowly, smoothly sliding

slowly seeping, warmth colliding

’round the dark and sleepy morning

stretching, reaching, open yawning

smokey mist, rising air

no thought of international affair

or scandalous harbor party brewing

from lip of mug to lips of me

slowly, sleepily, drained of tea

 

And You Were There

The end is not forever

It is a pause

A momentary breath

A blink

A dimming of the lights

For the next act

And you

Were there

The last time the lights dimmed, my sight went black, and the air about me froze

You smiled

And that was when I knew

It was all for you

 

 

Hour 1: Marionette

 

Marionette, be merry!

I give the strings a yank

Awake!

Feel the strings control you

Feel them guide you

Feel them bind you

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

Dance a little jig

 

Stand up, marionette!

I’ll make you

You’re nothing but a toy

Feel the strings enfold you

Hold you

And as I lift you

Feel them hang you

 

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

Let us play pretend

 

Make yourself a liar

Choke!

Keep us entertained

Be everybody’s plaything

Chafe!

Give us pleasure for your pain

 

Marionette, be merry!

I give the strings a jerk

Alert!

Feel the strings instruct you

Feel them force you

Feel them stop you

But smile marionette

Be merry!

Do a pirouette

 

Fall down, marionette

I’ll let you

Your spine is but a twine

Feel the strings release you

Cease you

And as I drag you

Feel them stretch you

 

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

You’ll have roses at the end

Now that the End is Near

I don’t remember when it started, but somehow I’ve found myself here. I never knew I could do it, but I did it, and I no longer show fear. For all the countless hours of doubt hold no ground now that the end is near.

Lady Lannae

Too Soon – Prompt One

She is old
Ninety-three last Friday
Slow and not too steady on her feet
Moving quickly toward a finish line
In a race that’s sure to deplete
My soul.

She reaches for my hand
And I take it
Careful not to squeeze too tight
Wishing I was an expert
At hiding and taking flight
From what I know is soon to be.

She knows
I know
It won’t be long
This woman who always put me first
And stood so strong
No matter how dire the circumstance.

Sometimes when she doesn’t recognize me
My fragile feelings shatter
But knowing she always loves me
Makes nothing else important
Makes nothing else matter.

Until the end I’ll be by her side
Caring for her as best I can
After that, I don’t know where I’ll be
Without my mother to carry me
Through the darkness that’s sure to come.