The Poetry Marathon

I know not who I am #3

Step soft onto the hallowed ground
With humility open the chapel door
Slip in silence to the prie deau
And kneel in the holy space
Where you’ve been so many times before
Yet know you are a stranger there
Offer up your first hymn
As the veil slips at last from your eyes
Light the candle flame within.
All ground you walk upon is holy
Be humble at every door
Learn to be gentle with yourself
Listen to the answers that come unbidden
When you sit quiet in yourself
Pray for the sins of not knowing
Who you are.

4 hour prompt

WE ARE POWERFUL

There is ‘art’ inside every heart,
Do not kill the artist inside you!
There is ‘air’ in our hair,
Let your hair loose and do not get tied up old traditions
There is an’ I’ inside every eye,
See only what makes you happy
Here is a ‘should’ in every shoulder,
Learn to take care of yourself.
There is a ‘no’ in every nose
Turn your nose away in unfavourable situations.
There is an ‘and’ in every hand
Accept yourself, then you will never be alone
There are miles in every smile,
Try to achieve miles of success with your smile

BY
SHREYA SURAJ

10 AM – We Are

My stretched palms are branches,

swaying in place,

sunlight trickling through my shade.

 

Translucent, veins take root,

weaving phalanges.

Soaked serotonin nutrients,

behind closed eyelids we are sustained.

 

Thrive in our shared space,

bloom in difference.

Collectively, we are the flower.

We are the trees.

We are the soil.

We are the earth.

We are.

We are

We

are

We

are

Rushing, Dragging (4)

They want to see the good stuff

what was sourced at 3AM when moderation was low

and anonymous evil was untethered

WEBMs downloaded and put in a secret folder

 

It’s how the brothers gut check the new recruits

after getting them drunk and high

and making them run until they puke

doing other things their fathers wouldn’t even laugh at

 

It’s this weird test of manhood

watching people die

their final experiences fed from my laptop

to the TV by an HDMI cable

 

Tonight’s menu includes some favorites

Hi-def ISIS executions

Cartel footage set to Mexican techno

Fatal accident photography

 

But we start with something mild

cellphone footage of a building leap

the crowd below turning just as

terminal velocity is suddenly stopped

 

This new hopeful lets out a scream

and then falls in the floor sobbing

the other rushers can’t calm him

and he leaves to a chorus of laughter

 

He doesn’t show up ever again

leaving the school the next week

the lead brother is chuckling as he tells me

‘That’s how his dad died.’

 

 

Offerings

She would shuffle across the chess board floor

Of her kitchen in any direction she chose.

Silver pots blackened with years of fire

bubbled tongues and released the incenses that 

rested like a glory in that place.

 

Family would lay the sacrifice of provisions

In all cardinal and ordinal directions of the room:

Mustard greens north

Red chilis northeast

White onions east

Hog head southeast

Catfish south

Cornmeal southwest

Tomatoes west

Sweet corn northwest.

 

She would take the offerings,

Rub them between her fingers,

Smell them,

Nibble at their edges,

And make of them something holy.

When finished she would declare that it was good.

 

Her family would return.

Passing the offering of plates.

Breaking the miracle of bread.

Consuming the sacrament of supper.

Mountain Pinecones

Hour 4

Mountain Pinecones

 

Early morning Colorado dog walk,

snow still visible on high peaks.

Enraptured by pine trees.

Maybe fir. Probably not cedar.

Lacking knowledge, not appreciation.

 

Woody pinecones,

geometrically egg shaped, female,

crafted for procreation, catch pollen.

Tough scaley plates protect seeds from predators.

Gazed in amazement at their beauty,

so small yet rivaled the mountain vista.

 

Cleaned up after Caddi,

continued with my ordinary day.

 

 

Sue Storts 09/02/2023

 

Workprep11am

Work Prep11am

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Swing my legs over as
I shut up my alarm so sleepy
I want a few more hours
of sleep

Maybe just a few more minutes
Nope!
Gotta get moving

Get up and start to gather
my stuff as fast as I can
It’s 3am-
Time to get up
shower and smell
decent

I don’t really want to shower
but I need to so i don’t stink
people out at work
It’s a must

Out of the shower and
I feel more alive then I did
beforehand
Do I have time for food?

Not really.
Throw the bucket of cereal
in my bag, along with the scrubs
Wait-
THE SCRUBS

Can’t very well show up for work
without my uniform-my boss is lenient
but I don’t want to push my luck
today

It’s 3:45am and I need to hustle
mostly I hate biking this early-
but I want to make sure I’m there
on time, if not early

I like biking early sometimes
because you see things that you
normally don’t when everyone is
rushing around to get to where
they need to be.

Like the fox that just darted
across the road
and the skunk that,
Yes Sir, You can have the whole
road-
Just don’t spray me!

There goes a police car-
I hope he will stay safe- I
should be watching the road
making sure I stay safe.

Up the hill and stop to rest as
I catch my breath. I need to get
more in shape. Either that, or
You know-
get a car

I check the time as I bike up to the door
It’s been a good bike ride, Invigorating
I am now ready to slay my day.

Thank you Jesus for protecting me.

Good

In the dead of the night, in the full of the moon,

we meet at the juxtaposition of Never and Soon.

 

We enter in silence; we all feel the gloom;

sit on rough benches in an ice-carved room.

 

For what are we waiting? What is it we seek?

We hope for an audience or at least a quick peek

 

of the Leader who leads us, whose words we believe.

We need to see him, and then we can leave.

 

We’ve followed his teachings the best that we could.

There’s nothing we want more than we want to be good.

 

He never has joined us or shown us a sign

although we’ve been waiting since the year 109.

 

Now stomachs are growling; we’ve been here all day.

I’m guessing our Leader has nothing to say.

 

We’ll come back next full moon, for he says we should.

There’s nothing we want more than we want to be good.

 

Gena Williams

 

Inside

Hour Four

A child’s breath,
A pain of glass,
Foggy inside and out.
Crystallized water droplets outline wooden casements, a spider’s web of shiny white.
A wintry day stuck indoors the outside world a flurry.

Warm air meets cold,
A film of dew,
Fingerprints dotting.
Funny faces and curlicues drawn upon a clear page, patterns running into each other.
The treetops covered drooping by the weight.

A chilled breeze,
Obscuring the sight,
Pellets of ice bouncing.
Outside, the world is quiet, muffled by a blanket draped, covering all it touches.
Icy roads unsafe to cross.

The image of a child,
Pouting and sad,
Only wanting to play.

Dreams of snow forts, angels, sleds, throwing snowballs, skating on frozen ponds.
Playing with friends.

Long winter days,
Hot chocolate and marshmallows,
Videos and games.

The first day of winter has arrived, the promise of snow and days growing shorter.
Indoor days no fun for little ones.

A child at the window,
Sad eyes looking out,
Almost wishing for grass.

Union Vows

Let us join together in union

creating that which was two before

into one loving entity now. 

Should we be parted for any reason,

know that our roots are always here,

entwined together in this live rich soil. 

May we continue to be engrossed

in our vows of faithfulness,

care, giving, receiving and love.