The Poetry Marathon

Hour 23 – Together

Beside the water where fishes live
I sit and dream about the day
that children and fishes together
at the bottom of the river can play

I dream of the moments I can soar
with the ravens and eagles,
starlings and more
high above this fertile earth

Ants will show me their tunnels below
where families together build a home
and bees will guide me to their hive
teach me how to build a comb

Elk and moose, deer and bear
take me to sacred spaces 
where babies are born and share
the lands where the elders go to rest

I dream of the day when we will be one
in love, acceptance, understanding and compassion
as we respect the earth, moon and sun
growing in knowledge and inspiration

Hour 24 image prompt – sunbeam

Few things are warmer

Than sunbeams in summer

Filtered through

A shady breeze

Sometimes I wonder

If I could perhaps

Eat the trees

Green leaves

But be it a light alike to nothing

Be it a trustworthy ally

I always love to see

Sunbeams filter through the sky

Hour 24 Hope

Someone posted a picture

The Lahaina Banyon Tree

A block-sized wonder

Over a hundred years old

Thought to be lost.

In the deadly fire.

It’s branches black.

Its trunk dark and lifeless.

As the endless stream.

of sad stories and

deep loss

bombarded us every day,

some experts decided to try to save it.

They watered it, fed it

Babied it, cherished it

Three weeks later,

signs of life surge through the trunk

New saplings grow from old, lifeless branches

Hope is a tree

In the center of Lahaina Town

Doing it’s damnedest

to bring hope

to a town broken in pain and loss.

Hope in the form of a tree.

 

2023 Poem Fifteen

Little Eulogies for the People I Have Been

– She was around a lot longer than she ever thought she’d be. Honestly, she’s still here but in ways she never could have dreamed of.

– He tried. He tried more than he probably should have but he’s a stubborn asshole who wouldn’t have it any other way.

– She was just a child and didn’t deserve how the adults around her reacted to [it]. I wish that, for her sake, they had been able to access [help].

– They’re a dumbass in the kindest of ways. Not like a puppy but also not as jaded as they should have been. Which they paid for but I know them and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

– He loved [them] with his whole being even when he wasn’t sure how to best show it. I’ve never heard an inkling of regret for any love he’s even given no matter how it was returned.

– They made a choice and sometimes we can’t choose the choices we make. It sucks and they knew it but when you’re out of options…

– She needed her [parent] but the other side of the bedroom wall might as well have been a stranger’s house.

– Every version of me that I have been made what I thought was the best decision based on the information I had. I can never fault myself for that nor would I want to.

No Hope – Hour 24, Prompt 24

End is near, I hope

without a rope, I say nope

blank mind, sleep, elope.

– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023

The place I am truly myself

 

“Closets are a big deal inside a house, but also metaphorically. One can be in the closet, or come out of it, for example, But they are also places of safety and joy for small children, or where a monster is lurking, depending on the small child, and/or time of day.”

The place where I am most truly myself-
where I sing loud, not caring if I miss the notes and tones
The place no one hears me or looks upon me with ‘judgy’ eyes
The place where I think I can win an Oscar for my notes,
The place where I look in the mirror to practice my speeches
The place where I applaud myself for my braveness.
The place I reveal my initial fears and start to overcome them,
The place where I start to nurture the thought of letting the world see my amazing colours
The place I gain confidence before letting this inner child out to the cruel world.

As a child I was scared of the dark.
As an adult, I found myself always seeking the quietness it came with.
As a child I thought monsters were hidden in the corners waiting for me to step in at night
As an adult, I see that the monsters live outside, waiting to shred every bit of me

This is my haven
This is the place I am most truly myself. I’d rather be here than anywhere
I’d rather glow in the darkness of its safety that reveal myself to the light in the world
I’d rather fill this place with my colours till I’m ready to show the world
One

after

the

other.

Hope is a Hard Subject

Hope is a hard subject to write for

in a world where there are no guarantees.

Hope is like a wish you want granted

there are no guarantees.

Hope is like a blanket

warm the elders and the sick

still no guarantees.

Hope is like a promise

it can be broken

like tomorrow’s no guarantee.

Hour 24–Goodnight

wayfaring friends

wayfaring strangers

fare thee well one and all

Poem for Hour Twenty-Four (24/24)

The day is done,

And we pass each other, like

So many birds trading schedules in the dark.

Hope plays upon our crests and roosts in our chests,

As we continue our lives in concentric circles from each other.

Owls nestle now their heads and red-winged blackbirds stir,

Dancing past hollow trees to congregate to meet another day.

 

As long as there is song in the air,

The still of calm will have foothold over us.

As long as bird breath comes out loud and strong into brightening air,

It means humanity gets one more day to try again,

And do it better.

“The New World”

 

 

No religion, no country, no territorial boundary,

This world can be a place like no other.

No rule parts to play,

No currencies, no need for a job.

We are not humans here,

We are like an orbiting species taking its role as it is.

Part of nature, equal to all the species yet to live.

What else can we give?

To a world who has it all?

God moves in mystery, they say.

But there’s no Gods here,

There’s no one for us to pray,

We all are preys,

Rotating towards who’s the next to eat,

And what would be our meal.

No police to keep it in order,

There isn’t any border.

This is our home,

The sky is the limit.

A kindred spirit bustling around,

And where we left to die

Will be our holy ground.

 

Text Prompt

Write a poem about a world that is not this one.

 

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR23 #24HRSCATEGORY