The Poetry Marathon

They Still Hold Hands

Vows made at the altar years before

promises created around rings they wear

a couple together through their golden years

through sickness and in health

they still hold hands

losing children to drug addictions, mental illness and loss

their bond has been tested to its core

they kiss, hug, love

they still hold hands

grey hair, wrinkles, heart attacks, strokes

they still hold hands

anniversaries, birthdays, reunions

hearing loss, blindness, Alzheimer’s, dementia

they still hold hands

All In-Hour Four

The first moment we locked eyes, I knew my future.

I wanted it all, when before I wanted none of it.

I wanted the last name, the last breath, the last embrace.

I wanted the first touch, the first kiss, the first gentle, sweet

good morning after tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

I wanted the weight of a band on my finger, the long slow days

after the cake slice and the rice has fallen, and there is just us

and the days of just living, just being, and to hold his hand

when there would be no more distance, no more ‘maybe-someday’,

but a today, and a tomorrow, and a future walking, running,

flying towards me for a long string of years of blissful, sweet simplicity

and a yes, a tomorrow, and a promise of forever.

United in love 4/24

Together

We become as one

In love we meet

Under one sun

In our earthly bodies

We become undone

The words we said

Professed our love

Our union blessed

By God above

The ups and downs

A part of life

We work out kinks

And iron out lines

Imperfect as we both can be

Our love

The foundation

Of this sanctity

~Rebeli

Hour/Prompt 2

Thirty-eight

forty in the distance, just coming into sight like a train clickety-clacking down the track

thinking back to what I’d planned

Not these cracks of life, lacking siubstance and direction, reeling like a lost soul

bushwhacking through a tangled mess, distracted by the glaring steel in the distance

Unablet to focus on the task at hand, the goals, the ideas, the projects that once

entranced and energized and that now just slump like bracken

in the distance, along the track.

Hour Four

Marriage

 

A tunnel

filled with light.

An amalgamation of selves.

A bond, a pact, a partnership.

The perfection of love.

Freedom.

 

Or

 

A tunnel

filled with darkness.

An obliteration of the self.

A duty, a deal, a convenience.

The pretence of love.

A prison.

 

Hour 4 text prompt – Unity

Your challenge is to 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.

We started off with promise

a love so deep it conflicted

With every other chiding adult citing

Our relationship as foolish

Tied together by our vows

Fresh faced in unity

Then three long years of foreseen turmoil

Unfortunately even Cassandra could not save us

It started with a spiral

Depression deception doubt

Then desperation death and division

You were not the one I’d held so close

It seemed you never were

And now you’re healing

As am I

But not together sadly

I mourn the unity I fought for

So easily it was rent asunder

And bitter is the mouth that sees you

Finally thriving

Why couldn’t you do that when

it was my life

And you were driving?

I still love you

The you I cannot have

And I doubt you will ever be had.

 

four

[untitled]

Close eyes and breathe
The voices called your conscience
May be ancestors
Returning to you in the
Most familiar image

Prompt four

Twenty

Twenty

 

I’ve been caught, a flopping fish on Stearns Pier – sunny day, trying to keep up with tech

which smells like a mackerel on a dock in hot sun.

This looks fishy

 

I know it sounds like I’m complaining

knowing that hooks from the money guys are making these

keyboard keys feel like psychic shocks as I type them…ouch!

 

Mark Elan Zuckerberg Musky smells are coming from Silicon Valley

but the gourmet food being offered tastes like sauerkraut.

 

Ebeneezer Tech has got hot eyes for your wife

on this raging river of computerdom.

 

money motivated mongrels hiding in the keys smell like old big eyed bass

in the fridge and feel like mushy potatoes full of shards of glass

 

But maybe tech is its own flopping fish that should try to keep up with me

perhaps I should let tech be Darth Vader take over from my big baby

Yet, I am fed constant deceit on computers and the world would be much better without them.

 

a good ol’ Apple II GS computer is an apple of my eye

She and I can figure it all out and merge to become Harv the computer whiz

 

flowery techno daisy

 

It’s really easy to figure all this stuff out if I surrender to my inner Yoda

just say oy veh which amazingly slays the dragon that heats these keyboard squares

 

but that dragon speaks in tongues that somehow make sense

to the masses who oddly speak the same language

 

While all l I see on my computer screen are dollar signs that twist and turn like a 300 pound contortionist trying to wiggle out of a phone booth.

 

 

 

 

 

Always

Journeying together
Bonding in new ways
Caring about our lives
Holding hands in times of need
Always and forever