Hour 19 (Cool Down)
Had some rum and boom
Feeling a little tips
felt like I could dance all night
As a stare in his eyes
I told him to cool down the pace
for me
Copyright(c)2022 Roxann Lawrence
Prompt 23
The Chronicles of Narnia – C. S. Lewis
A magical realm of fantasy and fun
An enchanting tale loved by everyone
The story begins with the Magician’s Nephew
As Aslan created his land that day
For mortal children eager to play
They awake the White Queen
Innocent enough so it seemed
But she ruled over Narnia with spells and spite
Forever in winter which just wasn’t right
Many years pass
But at last a new group discover
A world in the cupboard
The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe
Fulfils the old laws
So peace can reign again once more
Summoned to return at the hour of need
The children do indeed once again save the land they love
Aslan casts forth his magic to end the dire situation
And return Prince Caspian to the throne
But no one had known
All would change when they sailed The Dawn Treader
To Aslan’s own country
After the seven swords of the banished lords were rediscovered
Some would never return but those that do
Hold true the quest
The Silver Chair
Finds them once again there in the search for Caspian’s son
The Boy and His Horse
A talking one of course
Plan a return to Narnia and freedom
Then The Last Battle ensues
Which should be good news
But heralds the final end
And so my friends
We have come to the end of a series of books
A pleasure for any age
That in my opinion … you really should not overlook
[Prompt: Pick the title of a book that you love, that title is now the title of the poem.]
(Hour 23) 20.30pm-21.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: title of a book(s)
42 Bookers 2015-21
it might only be
a little life
but it is my life
& i am unwilling
to exit west
to lose everything
under the overstory.
i am a satin island
in a sea of fishermen
born in the year
of the runaways
next to a spool
of blue thread.
sucked hot milk from
the autumn milkman
am all that man is.
am girl, woman, other.
do not say we have
nothing. for we are
his bloody project
a history of wolves.
and i would rather
spend 10 minutes
38 seconds in this
strange world
in this mournable body
in the new wilderness
of a real life
than be burnt sugar
for the shadow king
& that is the promise.
for no one is talking
about this bewilderment
and the fortune men
lose in the sellout
to a passage north
to the great circle
of ducks, newburyport.
the long take
of the testaments
reminds us 4321
of lincoln in the bardo
& a brief history
of seven killings:
eileen, elmet, shuggie bain,
washington black, quichotte
as well as an orchestra of
minorities in the mars room.
Prompts for Hour Twenty-Four
Text Prompt
Write a poem that starts and ends with the same word. It can be short, but it has to be at least five lines long. If you can’t think of your own word to start and end with here are my suggestions: hope, stardust, cheese, sleep, and shoes.
Image Prompt
Photo by Nubelson Fernandes on Unsplash
fin
No grand statement of purpose or profound wisdom
just an observation:
Life goes on and we deal with it.
Family
Hour – 15
swinging in the courtyard during springtime,
Knitted with precious family ties,
Linked with these precious relationships,
In the thread of love.
All the leaves of happiness appear,
All the sorrow disappear,
No matter how many ebb and flow come,
Just Be with your family.
Spread arms in new directions,
Welcoming spring,
To erase the darkness,
the Flower will become light.
Why do human heart
keep the emotion of the hate
Breeds of love are sown,
Some loved ones believed,
Some dream happy world.
In the midst of the burning streams,
Family becomes the tree of the shade.
Let’s plant a tree of love,
Some of your family support
Water it with care and compassion.
See how the world becomes heaven.
Hour 23: The 1619 Project: Born on the Water
My people came over the water
Over a sea salted with sorrow
Some people drowned in their sorrow
But my people let the sea carry them
My people came over by water
My people lived by a river
Wandering wide and winding to the sea
Sluggish with the weight of the world
Their hopes took root by the river
Some blooms bled into the water
Blood of my people flows
Through that river
To the sea
Meeting old sorrows
My people’s blood flows in the water
My people settled by a lake
Large like the sea
They wintered there
Shivering in the wind
Swallowing the taste of salt
Planting dreams
Surviving storms
My people came through the water
Carrying salt
Carrying sorrows
Carrying the sea
My people came over the water
I see a poem in every single day
Everything I see is poetry
Written in the stars
Are you and me
Here in the morning
On my front porch
The sunrise is kissing
A new front door
Oh the possibilities of you and I
Brings me to the beauty
Of this happy tree
Covered in flowers of the prettiest pink
Silk is the design
It smells like the sweetest perfume
Of wildflowers and honeysuckle
It’s fragrance is uplifting and healing
Hummingbirds greet the day of change
Blessings are all in the way the cardinal says good morning
Knowing you are not alone
Feeling the spirits that want to be felt again
Guardians of the garden are all around you
Angels of guidance
HOUR TWENTY-THREE ~ Roses and Bones
ROSES & BONES
Or, The Marble Maze
a whirl of rose petals amid a dark fairytale
there’s a sense of urgency in the modernness
retelling the classics in a newer thinner skin
hungry for a truth that will stick to our ribs
sustaining us until the next meager meal
there inside each of us, our final form
beyond a maze of addiction and pain,
tolerance and trauma,
regret and reclamation.
chandeliers glitter like diamonds
in palaces and train stations alike
for the shiftless the difference is hassle
nothing heaped beyond that except
a shot to get us out of the dark
somewhere between disney and rob zombie
neither happy endings nor horror shows
in the wisest sincere wish
cautionary tales are to be read, not lived