The Poetry Marathon

Prompt Two – My 12-Year-Old Self

Prompt Two – Text Prompt:

Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.

(My poem is 45 years ago, not 10)

 

My 12-Year Self

She jogs beside me, this child so sweet,

I knew her well, a long time ago.

We run in synch, on our neighbourhood street,

but share wee smiles as we go.

Does she like me at all, I wonder now?

Her approval seems to matter.

Does she think I’ve done all right?

I wish she’d stop and chatter.

She’s tough, this kid, will go quite far,

if she’s helped along the way.

How lithe her limbs, how long her stride,

riding, running, playing all day.

I look again, see young dreams shine,

Athletics arenas, gymkhana races.

There it is then, her twelve-year dreams,

writ clear on both our faces.

In the forty-five years that separated us,

life happened in its stead.

Dreams denied, young plans just died,

new ideas settled in her head.

Should I say sorry now, apologise to her,

for not fighting harder for those dreams?

But she looked up then and smiled at me,

I saw acceptance in her beams.

My twelve-year self was ok, thank God,

with what I had made of her own life.

A middle-class woman, now middle aged,

A writer, a mother and a wife!

 

 

MY MOUTH WON’T OPEN – Hour 2

(Being 44)

I don’t know 

Neither do you nor the dog

Perhaps the dog knows

 

You work away

I spend my days 

torturing myself

 

Lost in the lack of you

Lack of me

Something is amiss

 

I feel guilty

You have acquired

another lost soul

 

Tears stain our time

I’m raging inside

a slow deep burn

 

Detached from reality

 I cannot see a future

I live in fear of loss

 

I want to smoke again

I need a prop

To ground me

 

I have failed

My mouth won’t open

I can’t see behind your eyes

Prompt two

I wake in the wild
a long dream forgotten

Two: Dead Name

Dead Name
two
Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.

They say that objects in the mirror are closer than they appear,
But you are a blind spot filling my entire rear view.
I know the texture of your name like an echo on my tongue.
I don’t hear the same voices you heard
An unfamiliarity in the screaming spaces between our breaths,
I split like a cicada
Tearing free from a skin knit too tightly

Were we ever as one?
Because I feel like I’ve always been shedding you.

 

Prompt #1: gate keepers

Image prompt:

gate keeper

you welcomed me –

somewhere I didn’t know I’d be lost to

in fog

and darkness

comforting and yet something not quite right.

 

gatekeeper to what has never belonged to you to keep anyone in or out of…

especially light

or darkness

or trees or fog or moonlight

and yet

I’m here:

on the edge of the light inside-

waiting for your blessing to enter.

(C) r.l. elke

 

 

Hour 2: Organic

You are a system

Made of millions of pieces

Working toward harmony

For no reason at all

 

How amazing it is

That every line written

Every word sung

Every figure drawn

Is the product of firing synapses

And the movement of molecules

Hour 2 – prompt hour 2

Trapped in a looking glass
whiling my time away as well as my youth.
Wasting body, insanity is driving me to mindlessness.
My struggle feels too heavy and too enourmous for my shoulders
feels like I am carrying around this huge backpack full of rocks
while struggling to stay afload almost sinking to the bottom
water fills my lungs. air is escaping, I am helpless and without hope.
I scream for help but the voice doesn’t come out.
Any glimmer of success is robbed by bad timing.

It feels like I am stuck, I want to give up, I want to let go I want to stop fighting and trying.

Things will get better they say… have faith.

Trying at a losing battle sealing my own fate.
Second guessing myself my doubts are here to stay.
Glimpse in the mirror – I am afraid of my own reflection
It screams my truth – the one I have been snuffling like as if I am ashamed to admit.

How much further must I go?
How much more of my mental peace must I sacrifice

When will it ever be enough?

 

Rachnoc Haiku 2 Hour 2

Under the light’s turn,
Like lead, it fell from the sky,
Crashed beyond the rocks.

Hour Two: Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.

POV

mumbai suburb
small house
three kids
housewifely

chores
housekeeping
tutoring kids
washing
the dregs
from the smug teacup
i told you so
it smirks at me
i told you so
it mocks me

the cup
all neatly wrapped
now lies as
pieces in the trash

Dearpastor9am

Dear Pastor;

I know that I’m not
the easiest person
to get to know –
to get close to
I appreciate that you
even try to.

I know that I am not
the best example of how
to live a godly life
I might swear
I might drink
Hell, I might cheat
I am human

I have my dark secrets
that I am far too ashamed
to voice to anyone
so I keep quiet
What would you think
if you knew THAT about me?

You have never turned
me away and you
have never once said
“Sorry, can’t help you”

You have, however, always
cheered me on, listened, and tried
your best to help me.
I’ll let you in on a secret

Sometimes, that’s all that keeps me
alive.
When I don’t know from one breath
to another
if my decisions are going to save me
or kill me.

I know that there have been
a handful of times
where you wonder if anything
you say or do is getting through
and making a dent in that thick
shell of mine.

Yes it does.

There have been so many times
where things you say or do
make me stop and realize that
I’ve got to stop living for man
and start living for God.

Truth is, Pastor, I don’t know
what I would do if I didn’t have people
like you in my life to help steer me along
thank you will always sound insufficient
but it is what I have to offer.

Thank you.