Driving through darkness

It’s Google Maps that guides us down
this solitary road on our
journey from Portland to
the Oregon Coast.

It is narrow and it twists
through darkness and gloom.
Huge moss-covered fir branches stretch above,
blocking the sparkle of the sun.

We pass decaying farmhouses and
I look away,
determined to avoid the certain plight
of the farm animals.

But there is no avoiding
the smell of decay or the disturbing
scenes of personal landfills, topped with
couches and cars.

Still, the natural beauty here mixes
with the eerie loneliness and
the rusty “no trespassing” signs call to me,
promising days without interaction.

It is tempting to embrace
this remote chasm,
to lock ourselves away from
the chaos and suffering of our planet.

But, finally, the road empties into the highway,
plunging us back into light,
and we are relieved and grateful
to be back in the known, uncertain world.

Grey Morning

Grey Morning
After Diana Khoi Nguyen

Pale spots on the bronze locket.
Decaying lace melts into our fingers.
There – on the wall – a key.
What could it unlock?
In the strange room, we played strings on a broken harp.
This is how she found us,
The past draped around us like a cloak.

24 Hour Marathon Hour 1: Tribute to Marianne Moore “Awareness”

the awareness

of that mighty struggle

bats and Characidae

 

all bearing fruit

like pomegranate seeds

in blood-like vigilant deeds

 

fruit-bearing fruit

carcinoma unfolding

creations gift  beholding

 

obstacles rising

from man’s industrious spew

credit where credit is not due

 

tied and strangled

vines of insulation

hearing old soliloquy’s narration

 

Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again, and make

Perpetual life, or let hour be but

A year, a month, or a season’s root in jut

 

Nuts fearing the great chill

and the little plant that could

Kazakhstan’s dandelion of rubberwood

 

hand-cuff tendrils

knotting until strangulation

Awareness in gestation

 

 

 

 

 

America: The Fixer-Upper

America: The Fixer-Upper
This is how the world
found mid-twentieth-century
my lost America:
Divided by strife,
disillusioned, bereft–
not the world’s best hope!
Reaching for the stars,
yet mired, unwanted in
an un-glorious war.
Yet hope did emerge
from the youths’ idealism
about what might be.
For the entire world
saw the possibility
of freedom from want.
Each mid-century,
the U.S. remodels itself,
tossing out the old.
But it truly shouldn’t
throw out the baby with
the grungy bath water.

9:00 AM – A Matter for My Heart (Hour 1)

The peace I feel

and yearn to achieve

compete for my

concentrated focus

 

do I choose

contentment or

ambitious hope

 

white light

over

green heat

 

that tension is the

anthesis of

what I seek

 

~ d², 09.02.23, 9:51 AM
Copyright D Squared Poetry, 2023.
© All Rights Reserved.

Hour one

The Past A Cloak (After Diana Khoi Nguyen)

Tatters of recollections
Warmed us during cold nights,
Pulled close, the past
Draped around us as a cloak.

Shuffling forward inch by inch,
Into an unknown future,
No time to look back,
No chance to change our mind.

The night gradually thins
Into a welcoming pale light,
Warm air finally replacing
The threadbare cloak of a well-worn past.

Hour 1 – Golden Shovel

Our journey on this sphere is limited in
time. Cliché, yes, but true. I think so much about life
and its ending now that I
am old enough for a senior discount. Some say–
“I won’t write to her, let
our sister be alone. She made her choices,” but me,
I can’t. I’ll keep reaching out and come
to the end, hopefully more healed and closer.
What happens in those in-between odd and even
years that breaks relationships? if
we knew would we fix it?
It is bitterness and hatred that kills
not forgiveness and love, which I choose for me

My striking line came from “Divergence” by Diana Khoi Nguyen
“In life I say let me come closer even if it kills me”

How to Prepare for 24 Hours as a Poet

How to Prepare

For 24 Hours as a Writer Poet

In 3 Easy Steps

 

Step 1 Rise

Shake off the rot sleep,

tuck your nightmares dreams to bed,

dust away the cobwebs,

fill the cat bowls,

greet the dread sun, slowly rising,

and accept that today,

anxiety is part of the fun

 

Step 2 Ready

Brew the coffee

FOCUS PLEASE

set alarms to the :40,

jog the brain, lagging still,

Wait what’s the time

pull up your inpso boards,

Am I missing…

send off the good lucks,

and don’t forget

the pens, pencils, papers

in their multicolored sanctity

GET A MOVE ON

 

Step 3 Write

Buckle in, everyone.

It’s going to be a rough wild fucking ride.

 

(Hour 1)

Hour One: “Her form in the sound”

after Diana Khoi Nguyen

When the music enters me

Making me a marionette

Dancing to its tune,

You think I move my feet

To the rhythm

You think I sing the rhymes.

 

Know this:

I become the beat you feel

I become the song you hear

The music is the master of my dance