The Poetry Marathon

The Road Not Taken

The road not taken,

is one of the great tragedies in life;

our lives,

bound by duty,

living hard, as the years go by

Sometimes we stop to think that we should take that road,

and suddenly the current comes

there again,

away we go

Life tugs and pulls at us

blocking our visibility

More time goes by

and finally

you are hit again with

the memory

but you move on

down more familiar paths

Until one day, you finally realize

that it is far too late

and the reminders and memories

turn to regrets,

you mourn, and weep, for the road not taken

By: KMH 2015

Vinegar Popsicle

Worry

It presses

Like a corset on my mind;

It is crumpled remains

Of an ancient fountain;

It is scraping iron

On brick;

It is the taste of a

Vinegar

Popsicle.

It is the smell

Of burnt popcorn;

It is the spirit being

Worn away.

(#9/12): “Conversation”

“Look at me.”

“I see you.”

“We never talk.”

“I tell you about my day.”

“Don’t take me for granted.”

“What do you need?”

“A little romance.”

“What do you call them flowers?”

“You are hopeless.”

“I don’t know what you are on about.”

 

 

 

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Steak.”

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua

 

Hour eleven

14. Pizza

PIZZA for 24 Hours Marathoners!

Pita

Ingredients mix

Zest flavor

 Zippy meal

 Always welcome

(Acrostic @2014 from Poems, Thoughts and More)

Body Language 2

“I don’t miss him.”

I state this calmly over olive oil and pita bread,

the Mediterranean smell of chickpeas wafting almost cloyingly.

You raise one eyebrow, mute contradiction implied.

Poem #14: Idea

I think the water is cold tonight,

I think we should meet there,

By the lake,

The glistening omen to the dying wants,

Where every goddamn lover had their share,

Of the purity in the night.

I think the water is calm tonight,

I think we should meet there,

Fall in love, breathe the air,

Or perhaps get drunk,

Make love in the dirty grass,

And by the water,

Let the secrets eat us alive,

Or perhaps we go to that party,

Together, together, those vodka lips, a secret kiss,

In the atmosphere, the mood is my savior,

We went there,

We went there and destroyed,

The calm, but let’s meet by the water,

Or at that party,

Let’s meet tonight,

Tonight, as the night changes us,

I think that’s a good idea. right?

The Offence of Squiggly Lettuce

An alliance of women by the bedside:
Sisters by twos, 3 generations of strength
(Though certainly, it felt otherwise.)

When it came, I was ripe for escaping.
She stopped breathing, we looked,
and gave her our final kisses.
There’d been a robot breathing on the bed for days.

My sister didn’t want the body taken;
but they talked her ‘round within the hour.
I called the nurse quickly and packed up her things.

My Nan, who liked tea in a glass teacup
and sent sandwiches back to hospital kitchens
for the ample offence of ‘squiggly lettuce’;
was already doing something new.

Let Me Feed You

Dear friends, you have hiked a mountain so have I
On this treck I’ve been home meditating in silence
Writing poems and thinking about what it is to give up.
When is it ok to quit, and when to keep going?

You have hiked a mountain and so have I.
At the peak of this mountain of words, now
I must begin the trek back down, back home
back from this peak of experience,
back from these new views I’ve discovered

You have just hiked a mountain and so have I
Let’s rest awhile, sit around the table and eat.
I found a recipe for vegan enchiladas you will like!

Horizon

Horizon
Virginia Carraway Stark

Contours of
A living world thread across
The lines of hill and sky
Plunging down and rising
To meet the sea
As undulations fold and sink
Up and down
In synchronized movements
Of chaos
As choreographed as ever
Was any formal French dance
Unplanned beauty
Spraying in wonderful
Magnificence that stuns the viewer
And fills me with awestruck wonder
That this is my horizon