Hour 4: The Universal Law
There is no such thing
As an eternity when
We do not know what
Happens next. Till death
Do us part? Do souls collide
Somewhere else forever?
Earth
The earth belongs to no one
But we are apart of it all
We share its wind in our breath
It’s rivers in our tears
It’s canyons in our wrinkles
It’s sun in our smiles
We hold time in our hearts
With every thump and every beat
We take up space with the largeness of our bodies
Knowing that we demanded to be here
To be seen
To be felt
To be known
To be loved
We are the earth
The earth is us
An inextricable link
Never severed
Never cut
Despite the demands of this social hierarchy
We are the earth
The ocean
The stars
The sun
Never deny your glory
Never deny your beauty
Never deny your presence
Hour 6 – Untitled (for now)
A strange abyss of nothingness
that grabs your soul,
it scares you
makes you go out of your mind
you don’t know what is there
waiting
watching
wanting to take what you have left
as you look at that
strange abyss of nothingness.
Come Away With Me – Hour 4
I get down on one knee
asking you for your life
it’s not something I’ll take
I just want to be a part of it
there is a hole in my heart
that needs filling
come on this journey with me
it will be thrilling
and if death parts us
I hope I’m first to go
I couldn’t bear the loss
so take my hand
come away with me
like Norah Jones
playing our first song.
The weight #2023poetrymarathon #prompthour6
I crawled to the end of the world
And peered over the edge
And found the living roots
Of every plant and tree
And the souls of men who ruled the earth
Hung from the branches
Like silent bats without wings
Cocooned in mould and grime
For thinking they made a difference
For thinking it was worth their while
The air was mouldy and mist-ridden
Something foul was afoot
The waste of a selfish race
Hid the stars in muck and soot
How long until it flips, I wondered
The weight of the world is on our shoulders
The blood of the worlds are on our hands
And THAT, my dears, is the only truth.
2023 #6 Over The Edge
Standing.
Looking up, gazing.
Stars so beautiful.
Sign says “Danger”.
Warning of “The Edge”.
What’s over there?
To be able to look.
See what is hiding.
Know what lies beneath.
Creeping forward.
One step.
Then another.
Longing to peer over.
What if I fall?
Where would I go?
Desire for knowledge overtakes.
Stepping to the edge.
Looking over.
Slowly.
A person is looking back.
Not any person.
It’s me.
Hour 3: Light it With Kerosene
My soul is a sparked match
Capable of burning down every abandoned gas station in your stereotypical hometown
that inspired every 80s movie about a guy named Brett from Chicago
rebelling against the system.
The last bit of the pungent, addicting smell of gas left in one of the barrels
Is enough to light the world on fire in the darkness of dawn, a warm glow recreating a painting
of orange and yellow swirls with the burnt taste of revenge as everything goes
Boom.
But my burnt match of a soul
Has difficulty sparking anything in life
When floods of thinking sizzle out the last of the smoke
And the world is washed over in gray.
The sky is a clear blue, early morning birds chirping over an empty lot
Their wings flapping away the fires where its passionate life stood minutes before.
The motionless air brings about the sadness of reality that there is nothing left
Of the past or present or the time anything ever mattered in the first place.
The fertile land will always be covered in nothingness, dried up flowers packing their bags
And flying off into the sunset, a shooting star that will never rise again.
The burning fire is cold and heartless
In her darkened hands covered in potassium chlorate, sulfur, fillers and glass powder,
The same material that gave life to the glowing match;
“Tutto è bene ciò che finisce bene”.
But now, the station will forever be on fire.
#4 Two Shall Be One
Two Shall Be One
He was a half-step ahead of her—
Swatting down spider’s webs
And lifting branches so she could walk without obstructions.
When the path got steep,
He reached down and pulled her up
Or stood below so she wouldn’t slide.
At the lake side, he took off his backpack
And produced a sandwich lunch.
They didn’t need words to express their thoughts.
They had a map but had decided to chart their own path.
They trusted each other
Confident in the commitment
To honor one another.
Cindy Herndon
Hour 6: Edge of the World
Today my soul doesn’t know what to say
I keep writing and rewriting the same few lines
Nothing seems to come together
One word becomes another
But they just can’t connect
At this point it may just be hieroglyph
Undescriptive symbols
Without reason, without meaning, without message
Nothing profound
Chicken scratch across a page
That goes on and on and on and on…….
Maybe that’s what lies over the edge of the world
Demons, monsters, fairy tales, and unfinished poetry….