The Poetry Marathon

Him (hour 5, 1:02)

I’m never as serious

as I am now.

I am a Him.

As male and obnoxious,

or caring and visceral,

as any female human.

I stand on my own,

principals, goals,

drives driving me toward the

father I don’t want to be.

I won’t be another HIM,
just the Him I am.

I won’t beat my children

with the end of a fishing rod.

I won’t pull the daughters around the floor

by their hair.

I won’t finger their innocence

because of uncontrollable

hatreds.

Or I won’t be with a Her,

or I will sheath my manhood

like the gloved hand

with a finger in the dyke.

No more water,

no more collateral damages,

no more babies.

I am a him, as best as I can be.

I love, respect, and still want.

More than all the world,

I want more than I need.

All too often,

forgetting that I

gave it all

for them.

Judgmental (hour 5)

Its so furious to see
how judgmental some persons can be,
its inflicting wounds are like a sting from a bee.

Sanctuary

Sanctuary

 

I sit in the woods

Far away from the noise

And busyness of civilization

 

The breeze blows past me

Softly touching me as it passes

My hair moves and settles

 

The sounds of birds singing

Animals scampering

And water as it trickles slowly

 

The warmth of the sun

Shines through the canopy

Casting a shadow of lace

 

The smell of musky wetness

As the leaves from last fall

Carpet the floor

 

I close my eyes and take it all in

The smells, the sounds, the peace

As I worship here

 

In my sanctuary

 

Reflection

It took her awhile…

She could now enjoy the solemn draped dew, the time spent with you and appreciate the birds chirping askew

She can catch the sun rise and watch as they rub their rested, still sleepy eyes

She is awake and sober instead of feeling worthless and hung-over

I watch her as she sits in the morning and I know… it took her awhile

10 a.m.

this earth doesn’t belong to me
this sky is not mine
these trees –

these trees that sway in the sun and
shake their leaves with laughter –

they are my cousins,
my aunts, my uncles

the family i always wanted.

Hour 4

His skin was black and thick
like leather, his eyes red like fire,
and I stood before the Beast with all the knowledge
of a suitable Beauty. I braced myself
for the attack, but nothing could prepare me
for when he launched himself into the air
and flew at me with his claws and teeth
exposed.

The First Ancestor

I started with one
Seven billion grandchildren
Please love your cousins

Us

Love, hate that’s us.

Butterflies. Nausea

Heart pounding. Blood boiling

Twinkling eyes. Laser beams.

Love is never what it seems.

For me it has never been butterflies or rainbows or flowers or candy.

But heartache and tears and worries and fears.

Does true romance exist?

Maybe! Maybe not but what I have could never be bought or sold no matter the gold.

What we have is real.

 

Nature Calls Me…A Pastoral/ Nature Poem- #4

The beating of the falling rain

The rythm of the shore,

The gentle whispers of the winds

Calling me once more.

 

I hear the voice grow stronger

The longer that I stay

Beckoning me now,

to follow him this way.

 

HIS inspiration

is everywhere-

Flowering plant and tree.

Miracles take stem around me

As far as I can see.

 

“Life gives life and so it be”

Is HIS promise now to Me!

“Protect these things and let them grow!”

“And, one day you will come to know.”

“Life gives life and so it be”

Was HIS answer unto me.

Copyright 2015 by Ingrid Exner

When it Rains

I remain, listening. The slither of a snake,

the soft hiss of rain down tin, I hear it.

I taste it, metallic, sugar-sweet,

a memory from some distant time.

The love of a history, the kiss of a past.

My peace fulfilled, my heart light.