The Poetry Marathon

Ode to Tennessee

My heavens, Tennessee!
How lovely this has all been, to be
Your many women

Lord have mercy on my
Little old pea-pickin soul, I
Love what you’ve given!

I love it. Indeed, I love them all
In different ways of course. I’d call
Amanda a masterpiece

And Blanche a train wreck.
Well, perhaps a streetcar, then, if I check
Myself correctly.

Poor Maggie deserves a mention
I’d have been her had I the intention
Of acting directly.

Oh they are all such joys
Tennessee Williams, your girls and boys
Of the stage.

#24bis – The magical tree

The magical tree

Calls you

In the night

In the darkest night

Of this winter

Endless winter

In the forest

 

You recognize instantly

The call of this tree

You know this tree

As if you grew

Together

And somehow

You both did

 

Grow together,

Even though far away

From each other

For too long

After the war end

Grow together

Closer than brothers

 

It calls you now

Because it’s time

To give you

All the secrets

You must know

To keep moving on

Your sacred path

 

It is showing you

Its true face

Its magical nature

And all its powers

To change nature

And the world alike

It calls you and you go

 

 

Poem24/24 “sLeEp”

Oh! Those sleepless night

Awake waiting for a knight

Hoping he will come at right

When open the light

He will by my side

Wrap in his arms to hide 

Oh! Those lovely Nightingale

Humming my favorite song

In this night

I close the light 

Think about my knight

Still hoping for tomorrow’s site

I embrace my pillow

As I covered my body with blanket 

So cold, so cold, that I didn’t see my knight

Can’t sleep right away

I heard a magical voice play

My favorite hymn sway

I stood up! Run through the window

Hoping the knight was that

Oh! I’ve seen no one but a shadow

Of those stars twinkling my sorrow

Oh! I just dreamt!

Wake me up before I believe!

Hour twenty

Broken

“You can’t kill someone who is death already”This is you; emotionally death and mute inside out! Only your soul carries the pain inside! Wondering how you still standing when there isn’t nothing left of you to give. Your own flesh and blood drain you. Your eyes show me your pain and scream for someone to seek for your soul and save you. It takes a brave one to enter your hellhole; I did it once and I don’t know how I survive my 7yrs next to your whole life of abandons and sinfulness the pull your innocent from under your growing years. Your biggest prison it’s your mind! Wake up and see the beautiful life you created; is not to late to give your love and nature with a drop of your blood. I tell you a secrete she no longer retains your soul. Smile life begins again as long as you see that true and forgive yourself. Surround yourself with true love within your soul and our lovely creation. She is the devil! Your flesh and blood; but I’m worse then Gabriel ! I set you free! Fly our creation waits for your faithful attention. Earth and heaven shield you. Only their soul matter Bc it carries you in their white cells. Open your eyes and set ur mind free! I speak to you from an upper level. I’m a Gitana; I’m not contain and my freedom it’s invariable
—Marquez

Alzheimer’s

Critical call, result of the fall.

Plead in a panic, mood turning manic.

Hyper extreme, surreal like a dream.

Confusion ensues, planning next moves.

No time to wait, pack, leaving at 8.

Traveling monkey, no sleep like a junkie.

South to Midwest, hole in my chest.

Rain, hail, snow, faster then slow.

22 hours, no sleeping no showers.

Honda’s a beast, nonstop from the east.

Arrived in the Chi, critical but alive.

Deep breath, calm, anything for my mom.

Sleep

Sleep on a silver-lined cloud.
I relax against John’s back.

Fall asleep facing that way. After I fall asleep, we can move.
Staying awake from snoring is possible.

Bandit climbs his stairs to my cloud. He noses his way under the covers and presses into my lower back.

Growling and barking if anyone moves to disturb his sleep.

Breathing yoga breaths, falling into my cocoon of floating clouds, I dream and still renewing and nourishing my mind before waking early.

Poem 22: Love Poem to EB

I know you don’t know I exist,
and if you did, you wouldn’t want
me around, there being nothing new
I could teach you about Florida.
Hell, you camped for days in the
Ten Thousand Islands, and took
too many pills on Fort Myers Beach,
meaning to die there, if Sha hadn’t
found you. So forgive me, Elizabeth
Bishop, for stealing your lines when I
need a great finish, like rainbow, rainbow,
rainbow, or somebody loves us all.
You help me, daily, even when I’m not
writing poetry, obsessively. You help me
practice, losing farther, losing faster, as
we are all losing the time we crave, to finish
what we started. I love you, EB. Rest in peace.

Untitled

drifting off to a dream like state

somewhere between sleeping

and being awake

---

drifting off

 images cross my mind

and I can no longer tell

what is real and what is fake

By: KMH 2015

Hour nineteen