The Poetry Marathon

Sonneteen

The sixties, and the movie scene

When celebrities needn’t live so clean

Studios controlling all that was seen

Public never saw actors being mean

 

There was one legend of the big screen

for acting and action ever so  keen.

A man’s man and a woman’s dream

most credible hero ever seen.

 

Did every stunt in which he was seen.

Replaced ‘cos of danger he’s never been.

Even jumped over fences on a war machine

in the best motorbike stunt ever seen.

 

This legend whose name luckily rhymes so clean

The one and the only Steve McQueen.

Go Fish!

A perilous journey unfolds, when fish go fishing

Elderfish gather at schools to share wise water wisdom

Choose your morsels wisely, little fry and fingerling

Watch your float and floundering

And above all else,

Beware the shiny shrimp dancing and dangling

Missed Opportunity (4th hour of marathon)

To the dogs, to the dogs I go!

Whaoooo! they sing at the door with kisses galore in greeting

Run outside for relief

Deer in the trees, look to watch, then graze again

as the dogs, more interested in treats and play, run inside

And, I, whaooo in joy, for their missed opportunity for a chase.

Bomb

And so the beginning

Starts, the beginner

Won’t stop

until the beginning ends

Or the Mike drops.

Narcissus

Oh how beautiful
That gaze is benign
I wonder who it–
Oh no, wait, it’s mine
Narcissus only loves Narcissus

I stare at this pool
Admiring myself
Who could resist me?
No man, god, nor elf
Narcissus only loves Narcissus

I call out to me
I hear a reply
I see a nymph there
I tell her goodbye
Narcissus only loves Narcissus

Now plenty of time has passed
And I begin to transform
Into a drooping flower
Could this be a forced reform
I still see myself below
And I hear an echo perform
Narcissus only loves Narcissus

Sheer Brilliance – In Remembrance of the Age of Chivalry (Written from the Perspective of an Ancient Prince in Love) 5/24

I woke up last night,
Got out of my bed and
Stood in front of the
Open window
Through which
I could hear
The song of a Nightingale…

I stood in awe and marvelled
At the intense beauty of it…

A movement drew my
Attention – I gasped
At the sheer brilliance that
Hit my eye like a spear…

In the centre of
The garden
Stood a unicorn –
White as snow
But painted silver
By the full moon’s
Glorious light…

And on her back –
The only being
In the garden
Whose brilliance
Surpassed hers –

My Lady…
With hair like fire
Turned gold
In the light
of the silvery moon

© 2015 Antoinette LeRoux

 

Hour 5: I hate for a living

I’m 40, and blonde, and on TV sets nationally

I’m online, on trend and can comment fashionally

Some say I’m hated, but why am I in demand?

Anti-PC and honesty are parts of my brand.

 

Called your kid ‘Tyler’? You scream working class.

‘Full Time Mummy’? You sit around on your arse.

Ginger babies are harder to love.

Ramadan brings more bombs from above.

 

Hate me, you say? But I speak sense.

Criticism makes you a leftie hence.

People are jealous that I make so much money,

That I’m in demand, wanted, so witty and funny.

 

I make sense and I’ll continue to grow:

The businesses, appearances, have my own show.

I’m a professional disagreer in this media circus.

Now let me finish my piece on burkhas.

Hour 05 2.30-3.30am — #64 “Red raw”

I admit to being a trifle sneaky on this one — but how can you not when you get this call. It’s a googletranslate poem of The Beatles When I’m Sixty Four (going from English, to German, to Polish, to Russian, then back to English — the logic behind the language changes should be obvious. A few more would’ve given a more eclectic result, but this version has a nice cold Communist authoritarianism about it)

#64

“If I Sixtyfour”

When I get older losing hair
Many years later,
Will you still send me a Valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I had done with the two forty-five
Do you want to close the door?
Do I need to, you feed me yet
If I had sixty-four?

They are older
And if you say the word
Can I stay with you

I could be handy, repair fuse
If you have lights
You can knit a sweater by the fireplace
On Sunday morning for a walk
Here the garden, digging the weeds
Do you want more?
Do I need to, you feed me yet
If I had sixty-four?

Every summer we can rent a cottage on the Isle of Wight
If it is too expensive
We will be very rich and save
Grandchildren on their knees
Vera, Chuck and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Overview Statement
Enter exactly what you mean.
Sincerely, spending
Give me an answer, fill in the form
Mine always
Do I need to, you feed me yet
If I had sixty-four?
Ho!

Dear god! #79. I know there’s low numbers in there, I do, I cut the damn things up myself.

The 5th hour – persona

Taylor

Gifted, Philanthropist, Genious, Icon

Lives to Shake Off the cares of Life

Family, Friends, Fans

Love, Trust, Humiliation

Peace on Earth, Fulfilled Dreams, Joy Unspeakable

Nashville Country at Heart, Pop Culture by demand

Swift

 

Hour 4 — The Dwarf Song

We are the Dwarves of Grivenweld
A stronger beast you’ve never beheld
We never cry, we never fear
We’re veritable strangers to despair
And when the fight is upon us
We’re not known to stall or fuss
And we love to eat our boars and deer

Elves are friends, and trolls are foes
Our strength and might, our enemy knows
We never forgive, we never forget
We stay alert for any threat
By day we toil, by night we sleep
Summers we sow, in winters reap
And we live our lives without a regret

And when our day is done
We’re buried under the sun
We, the Dwarves of Grivenweld
Many a troll our axes have felled
Our treasures are many, our sorrows few
This our song, we sing for you
And now we must retire to our earthly bed