The Poetry Marathon

#6

Step out of the shadows.
They’re not the night
that hides you,
and they’re not the light,
that makes you shine.

In the shadows you are
not a rebel and
not unseen, but
perhaps unnoticed.

Step through the gates,
I know they appear narrow
and it may seem they will
close on you or collapse,
that just by looking at them
you are holding them together
but as soon as you take that
step they will fall apart.

All it takes is just one
first step to go into the
light that will illuminate
what you have to share
with the world.

Writing prompt photo used as inspiration:

#6

Hour 6

fishing reminds me of you-
torn hat, vest, soggy old shoes, rod and spinner
I watch the curve of your strong calves
as you spring from rock to boulder upstream
standing in shallows, lying in wait for your prey

fishing makes you smell like the river-
of wet leaves and dirt
and I like it
dried salt on your neck tastes good
the warm curve of your arm around my back
you smell like home to me

Tied down

I buckled again, my knees gave out at a time when needed most, why were they different than hers, the other women, that I can’t keep my mind off of simply because I’m trying to understand what you see, you men that form relationships with me, get me in knee deep then break my bones, fracturing over and over again, no wonder I’m unsure, insecure and searching for her to see what you need more. There I said it, I’m insecure, sound the alarms, shine the lights I’m dying trying to remove the truth…

Picture Prompt Poem for Hour Six – Absolute Beaut

Rough-cut and wretched,

But thoroughly vetted

And valuable, no doubt

Could handle themselves about

Town

And even without fineries and gowns

Would cut an impressive figure

With their signature

Style –

It’s all in the eye

Of the beholder

And as you grow older,

You see why:

Charisma will always shine

And beauty is

Absolutely

Defined

By that spark – even in the dark.

(c) Gemma Hinton 13/06/15

 

My Choice Bit of Calico

Devout-actor
Brilliant-playwright
Provocative-writer

Pizza-lover
Ice cream-eater
Taste-tester
Awe-inspirer
Loyal-lover
Secret-keeper
Best-friend

Love-maker
A woman who stole my heart.

 

New light

 

The end
Isn’t
An end
At all

It’s just
The beginning
To new sunsets
And rainfalls

The end
Is another
Jumpstart

New possibilities
Arise
When you’re able
To see the sunlight
And
Walk into
A new
territory
An open space
One where you won’t be
Misplaced

 

– Angelica Villarruel

#6 – Their voices

They all talk

About you

 

Their voices

Echo in your head

 

Their voices

Bounce on the wall

Of your skull

Your dull skull

 

Is there even a brain

In these walls?

 

Echoes echo

And what hurly-burly

 

Headaches and nightmares

Invade your worst thoughts

Ever

 

You know they’re not yours

But they take over

All things in your mind

No matter how you shine

 

They all talk

About you

But apart from these noises

In your head

You just don’t give a shit

About what they say

It’s just not good to

Be polluted in your head

By so much noise

Toxic to your peace

So bad to your quietness

 

Shut up little bitches

I just don’t care what you think

Run to the loo

And vomit your grudges

I never need any approval

Always have been knowing my worth

And be proud of my flaws

Without them I would have never

Achieved anything

Maybe I never did, who knows?

 

They all talk

About you

 

Their voices

Echo in your head

 

Their voices

Bounce on the wall

Of your skull

Your dull skull

 

Is there even a brain

In these walls?

6. Summer Breeze

Tell me gentle wind

Is it at last hot summer?

I can feel warm air

Announcing he is coming

Wet, tan, fun, in the offing

(Tanka 2015 @ 2:17 p.m.)

Hour 6 Poem

(Untitled)

 

I believe in the secret life of things.

Moss has a purpose.

Trees sing.

 

More, I know in my bones

(smooth, white, hard and supple)

that when I sip my coffee

the cup tastes my lips.

 

I admit, I try not to wonder what the toilet is thinking.

 

But the river! What a joy that must be!

To sip the ice off a mountain

then dance all the way down

skipping off rocks

skirling from bend to bend

and finally

spending myself

in the trembling ocean.