The Poetry Marathon

Selfies, Marilyn, and Self-Esteem

prompt 6, i think.

Pug poems.

1.Pug Face

Have you ever noticed

The disturbing resemblance

Between a pug

And a Toby jug?

I think it’s a case

Of the squashed face

And buttoned nose.

Well .. anything goes,

But I’d bet on the pug

Against the Toby jug

All day and night

If there’s ever a fight.

 

2. Dog v Wolf

“Whoa! What is that?

It’s not real.

The stuff of nightmare.”

That’s what a wolf thinks

When it meets a pug.

 

“Whoa! Stupid, hairy mutt.

Hehe. Too big

To get through the cat-flap!”

That’s what a pug thinks

When it meets a wolf.

 

 

Railroad Tunnel (7th hour half marathon)

Watching my steps to avoid puddles of water

Dark gloomy stone walls, dripping with slime

Two sets of raised tracks, each 9 feet apart with too-narrow paths near the damp walls

What if two trains enter the tunnel at the same time? I could be crushed.

Looking behind me, I see misty green trees in the distance. Mystery.

Looking ahead, I am nearly blinded by the bright sunlight. Light.

What an amazing space to enter AS LONG AS no trains enter.

Body Language- 1(Septimal Hour)

I could write a book on you.

Lines mark boundaries, your hair an unwoven curtain.

There are some places that not even the sun can touch you.

I could write a novella of those eyes, dark sad depths that they are.

And Goodnight

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will lay you down

Beneath the old willow tree

But the autoharp you once used to play

Will be put away

Will be put away

Put away

 

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will tuck you in

For a long winter’s sleep

And the folk hemns you once used to sing to me

I will make them ring

I will make them ring

Make them ring

 

I’ll sing to thee

In the same way you once sung to me

I will let you go

Before I must walk home alone

And the sad sound this shared lullaby

Will be my goodbye

Will by my goodbye

Goodbye

 

 

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Dirge

 

 

Poem #7

Why do I write?

Well, on paper my st-st-stutter isn’t a problem.

Through text, I can say anything.
And if some people don’t like it,
Then it really doesn’t matter.
I don’t have to worry about their reactions,
Just mine.

I may be as proper as I see fit,
But there ain’t no rules ‘gainst me shortnin’ what I want, neither.

I can create worlds without gravity,
Or where people grow flowers instead of hair.

When I write,
I am unlimited un my imagination, strength, and intelligence.
I can be whoever I want,
And escape from the monotonous everyday.

Writing is paradise,
And I will never give it up!

naked

i’m not wearing any underwear, i announced.
timothy’s face turned red and his lips parted slightly.

i can’t believe it, he breathed.

and why not? i raised my skirt just far enough for him to see
there was nothing there but me. and i spun around to lift the skirt.

don’t do that here, he said and grabbed me with both arms,
pushed down my skirt
and looked around.

there’s no one here, i said, as i pulled my tee shirt over my head.

you’re killing me, he seethed, and covered his ears.

his anger didn’t scare me.

i let loose my bra, unzipped my skirt,
let it fall to my feet.

he slid on his sunglasses, shoved his hands
into his pockets. stood frozen in white sneakers.

i saw my body reflected in the dark lenses of his glasses,
distorted, pale

and beautiful.

Hour 7: Tristram

Tristram Ivey

is still alive-y.

I don’t know how he did survive-y

when off a cliff he took a dive-y!

Why Are They Such Dogs?

My dog is my love
My lover is a dog
One pleases in bed
Other’s a cover hog
While one is loyal
To guide through the fog
The other could leave
Coat on for a jog
So I’ll choose my babe
Over broken cogs

#7 – Robert Frost

Robert Frost
I’m a little bit lost
When the road did diverge
I chose straight, not merge