The Poetry Marathon

The Consuming and Raging War of The Poetics

Part XI

We all know,
not all dreams are pleasant,
and as my body gives in to the wares of war,
I drift into a dream far away;
past days of my mother’s brutality,
into the realm of falling in love and entering into marriage.

The beginning was fun and games.
Drinking every day.
Sex that is free after vows are made.
Getting mad,
making up,
getting madder,
making up tougher,
hit with the reality that my spouse is an alcoholic,
and all the sudden,
life and responsibility lies on my shoulders
and I don’t want it.
I have to live sober through the hell,
and he drinks and curses me ruthlessly,
and I have to forgive day after day after day…
the dream is a nightmare,
and I am awake;
how was a naïve 18 year old supposed to beat the wits of
a 30 year old man?
She’s not! I didn’t! And the story goes…

– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 6:00 PM

Prompt for Hour Eleven

Half Marathoners are entering the end stretch and Marathoners are approaching the half way point. Hopefully everyone is doing well and writing a lot of poems.

The prompt for hour eleven is to write a poem about someone, but to break the poem up into ten short numbered parts. Not all the parts have to be explicitly about the person, some can describe there dress and behavior, others can make more obscure references to their style of speech. The details are entirely up to you.

glass house

being a writer is like
living in a glass house
you learn to tolerate the
stones.

Karma & Eve

Karma and Eve pretty as they can be

The two like sister

Kissing

Loving

Holding

Dancing

Karma & Eve

The Key

When you come to KNOW,

There are no words,

No language

Other than silence.

 

It is the nothingness,

The vastness,

The infinite space

In between everything.

 

The Akasha

The joins together

Earth and Air,

Fire and Water.

 

It is the KEY

To ALL.

www.findahotprincess.com

Once upon a time in a land very far away, lived a wonderful Prince who couldn’t seem to find a real Princess. There were beautiful women and thoughtful ladies, but how to find a real Princess?

He went to his computer and googled and poof! Up popped www.findahotprincess.com

There before him, was the profile of a hot princess. But, with all this modern-day technology, how could he tell if she were a real princess? His mother, the old queen told him to invite her to the castle and then let her handle the test. Ask any old queen and they’ll tell you that a real Princess can spot a real Birkin bag from throngs of people and half a city block away (Didn’t the whole world learn that in Legally Blonde?).

So the old queen made up the guest room with just one catch. At the very bottom of the 20 mattress bed, she hid a Birkin Bag. All 20 mattresses with 800-count Egyptian sheets and imported-from-France throw pillows were put on top.

It was Hurricane Sandy, so the Princess showed up looking like what the French would call a drowned rat. Surely, this couldn’t be a real Princess, but the old queen was from the south (aren’t all old queens?) and knew manners and invited the Princess to spend the night. The Princess was thrilled.

The next morning, the Prince, Princess and old queen had a lovely breakfast.

“How did you sleep, dear?” asked the old queen.

The Princess debated. “Well, actually, the feng shui of the room might have a been off. The sheets were wonderful but I am bruised: black and blue!”

The old queen arched an eyebrow, code for “she’s the real deal.”

The Prince rejoiced for he had found his love and wondered if he should email www.findahotprincess.com. Perhaps the publicity would lead to a reality show in his future.

 

Moral: Always trust etiquette and taste to an old queen; she’ll come through every time.

 

 

Time

It has no wings

Still flies

Who could catch time

Which passes by…

5 pm Poem

How can time move so fast

It’s five past six

Six past six

Seven past six

No

Now it’s two a.m.

And I’m still not letting go of it

The Cupboard

You locked me in that cupboard,

with barely room to move,

a tiny little dark space,

too small to be of any use,

except you found a perfect answer,

for what to do when you went out,

lock me in that cupboard,

you could leave me there for hours;

I do remember that one day,

I couldn’t take it anymore,

the day resistance hit my soul

and I kicked out the door,

I knew you would be angry,

at the damage I had done,

but I was definitely prepared

for the punishment to come;

I didn’t care about the belt,

I just couldn’t stand the dark,

of that tiny little cupboard,

the epitome of your heart.

Welcome Home- Poem #10- Half Marathon by Ingrid

Welcome Home by Ingrid Exner- Poem #10

 

It is YOU and YOU alone

YOU should call HOME.

 

Not Four walls, four cities, four countries

Nor continents define,

What you inhabit.

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Be careful of the thoughts and cares

That you welcome in…remember…

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Do not let vandals rob happiness and leave hate,

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Decorate your life with joy, tenderness and let love hang on your walls,

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Share laughter, tears and remembrances,

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Welcome and embrace new visitors, friends and family,

 

YOU are HOME.

 

Make peace with who YOU are,

 

YOU are HOME.

 

By Ingrid Exner