The Poetry Marathon

Autobiography of a Face

Autobiography of a face
Is the Prompt for hour ten
But is the face not
An autobiography of the Prompt?
Time and transition, the ancient Janus
The personification of duality through rhyme:

From the line dividing now from then
Came the greatest pursuit undertaken by men:
The question that asked if not now, when?
Giving rise to the notion that what happens will do so, again and again
Clocks are just flattened spheres, that model the earth’s spin
Around the clock face we move our lives and further into madness we descend
Meandering about through time, with a false purpose and convention,
Wandering through life until our time is up, lamenting this construct of sin.
Yet we move through time as time moves through us,
Each containing the other, within.

Prompt for Hour Eleven

Write a poem about dogs. However you cannot use any of the followings words in the poem: dog, canine, bark, growl, and puppy. You also can’t use the names of any dog breeds. So, it should be a bit of a challenge.

Saturday

Saturday evening shortens time with

less to see and lovely prompts

prepared to guide us as we work this

furtive task inhaling bliss and

calling out to solvent friends where

whiffs of jasmine, clove and

Cinnamon cling to summer haven,

lakeside bungalow believed

reality, yet still a dream built to

take us back to Neverland, a dream.

prompt 10 Autobiography of a face

Autobiography of a Face.

Its round.
Perfectly round.
Swiss-precision built.
A face,
With hands!
Who knew?
It ticks off my days,
Relentlessly stoic,
Unable
To warn,
Or cajole
When pushed to extremes
By my casual waste
Of time.

Poem 10; no prompt.

The dark guide

Its cool

when the breeze flows

it becomes quiet

when the night starts..

 

Moon shines with glory

emerging in thoughts

we are left at peace

to make one with ourselves..

 

Promises are made

interactions are done

plan is to chase

all those dreams..

 

When ahead in life

the spirit dies but

night shines again

to guide us

through the stars

to our love

for our dreams…

 

 

Autobiography of A Face: Mount Hood

Your crags of shadow driven thicker by the morning light;

I never knew so many shades of white, until I saw you;

The glare of your western face in the 6 am orb of sun.

The wrinkles of century old glaciers ribbed with dirt,

And your nose’s highest peak, tallest above all others.

Still, in the summer heat, you contain a million diamonds

And shine more celestial than the brightest, rarest star.

Crystal Part 2

The cold water washed over my aching, sweating body.

It was July in Sacramento California, unforgiving heat.

The clock proudly read 7pm, the heat was starting to give

Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead,

I shut my eyes, and let my head sink under the water.

Darting thoughts that I couldn’t ignore assaulted me.

I miss her, but I missed her more.

Fauna had Crystal

Fauna was with another woman making her writhe and moan

Feeling each other, feeling Crystal inside of them.

And I was alone, in a bathtub,

Trying to forget Crystal.

The elation and euphoria

I held my breath as long as I could

My chest burned

And I screamed

#10 Autobiography of a Face

My summer picture face is just fine.

Pictures show a joy-filled smile in the sunshine.

In the mirror, I am less satisfied.

My face has been touched by gravity.

Sixty-three years of gravity.

 

Wrinkles and age spots are minor, so I can’t whine.

My generation began summer with a sunburn, if possible, soaked in ocean brine.

Summer was lived outdoors, from sunup to sundown.

But my face seems to frown because of this gravity.

I don’t mind age, but I despise gravity.

 

Autobiography of a Face

my face is a map

of triumph, tears, sorrow and pain;

the lines,

the path of my life;

a road

winding, turning, twisting

and taking me back home again;

my eyes filled with images

of a life well lived

welcome

to the autobiography

of my face

By: KMH 2015