The Poetry Marathon

(Hour 04) 01.30-02.30am. BOTH PROMPTS combined: marriage poem without mentioning marriage + silver cave light space with benches

a slight snag

don’t : what? : you better not : be about to say : what i think you’re about to say : which should be easy : cos i have no idea : how we got here : 

just moments earlier : i was telling stella about : what i saw : inside the pod : or what i didn’t see : perhaps more accurately : given it was kinda : futuristic igloo : crossed with minimalistic man cave : for the modern adventuring extraterrestrial : but i hadn’t even gotten : to the good bit : about how i escaped : before she started going off at me : for doing dangerous things : & leaving her & reuben & the kids : in the lurch : & what point did i think : i was making : climbing the white ladder : in the first place : & we’ren’t we trying : to lay low : & not draw attention : to ourselves : & i promise : i wasn’t about to say : are you gonna stop nagging : so i can tell you what i found out : although i think  that’s what stella thought i was about to say : & maybe it was : but seriously : it’s cool what i’ve learnt : & she’s making me feel bad : just cos she thinks : i was taking an unnecessary risk : which maybe i was : okay which i definitely was : but how : do i tell her : jumping on that ladder : was the first time : i’d felt hopeful : since the whole : invasion-thing started : well not the first time : obviously : being with her is : pretty amazing : (most of the time) : but hitching the ride : made me feel i was actually : fighting back : or at least : trying to resist : or learn about the enemy : & then she says : of course : you don’t care : i was terrified : you were never coming back : & suddenly : it all makes : a lot more sense : & i realise what : a complete arse : i’ve been : & i’m not sure : how to get out of it : except by saying :

you’re right : i’m sorry

“The Independent”

 

A hard-edge helium balloon,

Home alone, flying soon.

Independent at eighteen,

A no crown queen.

I’m at the precipice,

Tolerable by the wind.

A shriek panic,

A ponder mistake.

 

I love being a lone spirit,

But that does not mean I hate love.

I can fly alone like a dove,

And still wish forevermore,

A great love isn’t a trap door.

A keen spirit can be a gift,

A partner-like heaven.

Coequal, something even.

 

I am a hard-edge helium balloon,

Can fly high with you soon.

Independent companion,

A parallel that meet,

Serendipity, a fun circumstance

I’ll take a chance for you.

Hand on hand,

In union.

 

Text Prompt :

write a poem about the topic of marriage, without ever using the word marriage, and while also ideally avoiding the words spouse, husband, and wife.

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR04  #24HRSCATEGORY

The Birth of Art (a Nonet) – Hour 2, Prompt 2

Staring at bare paper I see light

nouns and verbs they love to pick fights

like empty canvas yearns paint

page woos brain to create

sometimes wall is blank

but mind, it cranks

masterpiece

again

wins.

– Sandra Johnson, 9/2/23

Poem 4

I am my lover

I am my mother

I am the seen and unseen

 

I am the morning doves in spring

I am a stained tea kettle whining

I am contented sighs and weary eyes

 

I am “I love you texts” night and day

I am the unspoken words since May

I am the depth between pause and breath

 

I am the head tilt back in the summer rain

I am the head in my palms held in pain

I am soft silence and self-guidance

 

I am my lover

I am my mother

I am the seen and unseen

Hour 4: Not for me

I am convinced man must essentially be a masochist
I am convinced this institution is not for me
For how else would you justify a perfectly sane creature
Who is perfectly happy, financially and emotionally secure,
Suddenly decides to pluck his heart and place it
At her feet?
And what’s more, hold a lavish ceremony, inviting all and sundry
To witness the display of his sacrifice at the altar of her whims and fancies
The final nail on the coffin would be the rings they exchange
And exchange the vows that would fade with time
Their family and well-wishes cheer on boisterously
When the bride throws the bouquet into the crowd
And a pretty girl catches my eyes and smiles at me meaningfully
An old-fashion blush taints my cheek
I imagine her and me in bridal clothes
Exchanging rings and exchanging rings seems so romantic…
Err, didn’t I say man is essentially masochist?!!

Aftermath

Face

on my wall,

 

exposing your

constant vigilance.

 

“Til death do we part”

and a long time afterwards.

 

We sign the contract

but don’t read

the fine print,

 

until we’ve

already paid

the price.

Full Houses (Hour Four, prompt 4)

They were thirteen years a part,

Introduced by a mutual acquaintance from the church,

Corresponding long distance was how they dated at first.

Traveling to meet family, her brothers pranked my dad,

The laughter, the marriage, then the kids,

First brother, then ’twas me.

Then a dog to round it out, a full house family.

They didn’t age like fine wine,

More like spoiled milk upon the shelf.

Divorced, a part, in the middle,

No once upon a time.

My full house is quite different,

but it’s treating me quite fine.

Two dogs, two cats, and me,

Never a dull moment to be found.

 

 

Hour1

In a wild dream, my heart

was at the bottom of the ocean.

It had no anchor and nearly stopped,

but my boyfriend woke me up

and I realised that he was my anchor!

 

Simona Frosin

 

N,N-Dimethyltryptamine//Accidental Circle-A (3)

E has the lab grade stuff

commonly referred to as research chemicals

the kind you can’t buy off your local

but are smuggled out of lab environments

or made in college chemistry classrooms

that cops find out about and crash down your door

putting knees on backs and making arms Kimura

‘I just wanted to be enlightened, sir,’ is never a good excuse

or a joke that’s appreciated

earning neither laughs or nods

but quick knees to the ribs.

***

He leans over

his pupils like dark lakes

‘You know what’s funny?’

I don’t

one time it was clockwork elves

crawling through the walls

one time it was that my veins

were visible through my skin

and many times it was nothing

‘Governments,’ he says

and then he laughs

throwing his arms up

letting them back down slowly

amused by the motion

‘Voting!’ he yells

and the laughter becomes shrill

he starts coughing

‘I can see them for what they are, these politicians

these so called kings

and leaders,’

he points to the television

where some man in a suit

is selling his party wares

healthcare and bringing them home

‘Under their skin, if you look hard enough,

you see veins pumping blood,

a brain no bigger than ours,

and a heart in darkness,’

he stares up at the ceiling

where something I can’t see

is keeping his attention

‘Why rule others?

We can’t even rule ourselves.’

Hour Four: Catch!

Weaving gently, the three women sing out the hymns.

First holy, they then set tunes and dances in the celebration.

In response, we begin properly then break into raucous

Sneaking to each table while the adults dance, the little boy

indulges in flutes of champagne and ivory cake.

His charm will draw us into flirtations, and we, too, indulge in romance.

We swirl and twrill until the one flirtatious couple upturns the whole event;

for maybe twelve or maybe fifteen minutes, the drama plays out before

the big sister steps in and restores order anew.

Golden orbs and blue skies are perfect for this event of

delights, mischief, hidden winks, and fluttering hearts.

At the very end, we gather elbow to elbow,

teetering from libations and titillations.

Flowers sail through the air, and we jump to catch!

 

   La Primavera by Sandro Botticelli