The Poetry Marathon

hour 2

20 Little Poetry Projects Prompt (abbreviated) 

the spray of ocean bites into my skin, sharp sting 

the sky is only blue if that’s what you decide 

andre was born in detroit, murdered there too 

ocean nestles against my shins like a familiar cat 

this is the hottest summer 

the ocean is full of plastic, is ever filling still 

ocean is a cauldron, bubbling full of hot plastic 

and carcasses and bodies and drapetomaniacs 

in the name of innovation, in the name of progress 

what came first?

the freedom or the dying 

i mean dying is a freedom

the earth will heat

the ozone will melt 

the viruses will spread

we will keep dying

we will keep killing 

we will keep being killed

empires will fall 

there will be carnage

it will be terrifying before it is beautiful 

it is terrifying now 

Sunflowers

I look at the sky, full of sunflowers
A new day, to see the beautiful colors
Smell of lavender, oh life is so different today
I still remember our last kiss in a farm
Next to a river, far from people that
Are lost in their daily effort, to fill their lives with the latest iPhone
To send another meaningless message to the friends
: That they do not have time to see
my friend, today I will drink poems
Until another morning when
I am drunk of metaphors, similes
Until I am full of life, and can touch the stars in the farthest galaxy

Randolph, TN

It was 1862, late September, on the banks of the Mississippi River, the entire town burned to the ground, all that remains is one church and one dwelling. A decaying village that was once prosperous, now carries the burden of the cotton. How can this be forgotten? Memphis was the rival full of greed, in the end they took the guilty plead, swept under the rug, the lies and deceit, the battle is never finished until the hatred is beat. Beat it and burn it, down to the ground, no matter what you destroy, love can always be found!!

H3.P3

I am wilderness

Full of earth and roots

I taste the water around my ankles

I drank the wind and floated a fluffy white cloud.

Do you see yourself in my window,  blue eyes

Londan calling, sanzy ,

Sandra , loves the ocean, she breaths it in and

doesn’t drown.

The night smells of wild flowers , can you weave

them into a crown ,  for heaven’s head.

Dress me in sugar and spice.

1. Spank me

No. 37

She strips next to a doll-sized mannequin
for an unimpressed audience, all studying
the choreography, and will she or won’t she –
the women don’t blush;
they’re studying from Godard’s notes
and the men are as involved as
the proximity of the stage
will allow.

The film pops up on Youtube
someone in Mo’s house is scrolling
and in-between hauling out her kit
for cultural passersby and
switching to FOX,
there’re dishes in the sink.

ANONYMOUS hour 2 by Pams

Your voice

is sure.

I listen.

 

I’m the one

who

will never leave you…

who would die

without you.

 

I try not to hear your voice

drop

 

“ I love you,” you whisper.

 

I feel myself

starting to become her,

Her voice,

whispering

back.

 

They go on this way.

 

 

Feral (prompt 1)

after Diana Khoi Nguyen

On the first night we ran out
simple lesson held prisoner
sighs of moon sinking teeth into its exposed belly.

It will not return with us
the innocence like mud between our toes
broken skin healing without the faintest scar.

Their scraps in the wood
spilled wine soaking through linen. The two legged animals:
lost with no desire to be found.

 

Target, Hour Three

Target

Fish in a tank, suspended in murky depths,
four plastic walls separating
are an illusion, as sharks circle
and salivate, just beyond sight.

Cat in a box, canary in a cage,
rat in a maze, all secure
and safe, as safe as they
wish to believe.

Self centered, self satisfied, central, smug,
she sits at ease, a queen on her throne,
director of all surrounding action but above,
center stage to an audience of none.

Christmastime10am

Christmas Time:

As the season approaches
I close my eyes, smiling
as I sip my tea thinking
back to times past

The weather was picture perfect
for December-
Snow covering everything
with a layer of sleepy cotton
but look!
There are some kids sledding
down that steep hill

Stepping into the house
i can smell Dinner in the oven
Turkey and stuffing
Cranberry sauce and pies
cooling on the counter
looks like Ham too.

In my mind, I am drooling over the
images in my head
certain that they are for real
So real that I can taste them

I can hear the laughter
as my brother tells some off color
joke or story that only us family and
close friends would understand and
bond over.

I see the manger scene
center stage on the mantle
right where we can all see baby Jesus
on the bed of hay

Sipping my tea once more
I feel the love in this house
Sometimes I don’t like to spend
time here, preferring to do my own
thing

But here, right now at christmas time,
I move heaven and earth to be here
because this is what it’s all about
Good food
Laughter
Reminiscing
and Love
Most of all.

Difficult Times after Anna Swir a golden shovel

There have always been difficult times in

which humans must find a way to navigate the

choppy waters of despair while immersed in the middle

of some natural or human made disaster of

such enormity that one cannot hear beyond the noise

of hopelessness and gloom and

must confront the possibility of extinction while the turmoil

churns out few reasons to think the survival of I

is possible and which will carry

much weight amidst the deafening silence