The Poetry Marathon

And Now, Begin again Once More

And Now, Begin again Once More

At Dawn, be first out–
nimble, light and fast alone.
Dawn is the drop off.
Now we’re given our orders,
our orders to procreate.

We sat and waited.
Before sun up the earth smelled
easy, alive and like home.
Grunts were all prepped one last time
I knew they would not come home.

Nests among the ranks
all thrown together, shabby,
gaudy, purposeful….
all stuck together, drabby,
I’m willing to die, of course.

Next of kin, we hope
only to see them survive
next in line, is key
cause we’re fighting for the cause.
Everyone’s on the same team.

Mayflies assemble.
Orders straight from the front lines
Read aloud it’s time to pack,
everyone’s in the same stream.

Hour nineteen, 3 am
And Now, Begin again Once More
(form Acrostic/ Somonka variation)
Charlie the Mayfly.

v.j.calone

Reconciliation

Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed
had agreed to mediation
their relationship as iconic legends
frayed, upsetting their fans

“I plant trees and you chop them down!”
“I do nothing of the sort, Johnny!
I harvest timber! Apple wood is no good!”
thundered Paul, while Johnny eyed him

“Then who is cutting down my apple trees?”
Johnny was inquisitive, not accusatory.
“I don’t know” said Paul, softly ‘Not us.”
The mediator watched each of them

“You are known for felling large forests”
said Johnny, softly. “I heard you cut it all.”
Paul leaned in toward Johnny. “That is not true.
I cut timber…and I love to eat fresh apples!”

Johnny Appleseed started to chuckle
“I guess that makes sense. Apple trees are
scrawny – but the fruit is tasty!”
He stuck out his hand, Paul accepted.

The two men stood, shook hands
started for the door. “You know, John –
If some apple trees come down in a storm
I hear they make great bacon smoke!”

The mediator opened their file, simply
writing “Satisfactory conclusion”
before throwing the folder onto his desk
before heading for the door himself.

Remembering words his grandma said
‘Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb.
That’s where the fruit is.”

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2022
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Hour 16

You Can’t

It took man
thousands of years
to domesticate wolves.
What makes you think
you can tame my wild
in just one lifetime?

Time To Rest

content warning: just sad feeling

Tired soul, weary wanderer, it is time to rest.
You’ve fought hard but now the fight is done.
You’ve done so much; you’ve done your best.
It does not matter whether you’ve lost or won.

At the end, all sins are bare and truths confessed,
There’s nothing left to hide, nowhere left to run.
Tired soul, weary wanderer, it is time to rest.
You’ve fought hard but now the fight is done.

A bed awaits you, a gentle and soft nest,
And when night passes, you will awake to the sun,
You are well-loved, you are another one;
All those you wanted to, you have impressed.
Tired soul, weary wanderer, it is time to rest.

Cities Hour 19

I grew up in small cities

Asphalt coexisted

with huge lawns

Sprawling green/ blue parks

Houses nicely spaced so you couldn’t hear

What the neighbors were watching on television.

We had the best of both worlds i suppose

Well placed schools,

Public Libraries just the right size.

Every fast food you could want.

 

I moved to a bigger city

A place with tiny lawns

and three units on one property.

Walking distance to a huge mall

And a bustling downtown

Intimidating, daunting

Scary, exciting.

I visited San Francisco and LA

Where the concrete eats everything

The bustle raises blood pressure

The traffic murders people daily.

 

So much to see and do

 

But I wanted to crawl home

To those sprawling lawns

And big spacious houses

I was used to.

 

A compromise was reached

And I found a place

Not too busy, not too quiet

Plenty to do and see.

I miss the lawns

The house I will never own

But I needn’t lose myself

In a city too big.

Or decay away in a place too small

 

 

 

 

Hour 18 CoastCity, Home of Spanish Rock Stars

CoastCity is an actual band,

a duo of two talented Puerto Rican artists.

If it were a city it’d be somewhere

on the shores of Florida,

not far from Miami.

It would have R&B mixed with Caribbean soul

like their music.

Their city flag would be purple like Purple & Prince.

An area full of Daytona race cars and dreams.

Spanglish would be the dialect spoken.

A desirable place, urban community

full of Hispanic rock stars with daring dreams

cross over barriers between English and Spanish

Spanish to English we all can learn

inside song lyrics and poetry.

 

Hour 17- Gyugyi

Gyugyi all bent and twisted

Shedding scales as she goes along

An uglier form, you’ve never seen.

 

In The caves above the hills

She lived all lonely in the dark

Picturesque if not a lonely spot.

 

From that dark and lonely spot

She watches the village down the hill

As people play and laugh and sing.

 

Then one day came the marauding hordes

With loot and plunder in their hearts

Poor gyugyi saw them from afar

 

All twisted and bent she knew she is

A pretty sight she knew she’s not

However be it as it may, she got to do what she got to do.

So down to the little town she went

As fast as her crooked legs can go

First man she saw froze up in fright, the second fainted in a heap.

Quite a ruckus gyugyi caused

So much that knights were called at once

Poor gyugyi tried to state the fact

Too late an arrow pierced her heart.

Just as that arrow did its job

The real monsters did arrive

Killed all their kids just like they feared

And burnt their village to the ground.

Those villagers never did find out

That hidden in all that twists and scales

Had beat  a truly golden heart

 

 

 

 

Memories – Thank You to Columbia

You aren’t really asleep.
Not even at night
You’re just waiting for the sun to rise.
Your streets always welcome me home.
Late nights under streetlights
Farmers market on Saturday morning makes me smile
The magic I felt as a child seeing your tall buildings come into view through the trees.
Getting lost, first drinks, and tattoo stings.
These streets helped me become me.
So here is my thank you for the memories.

Hour 19 : The City Hum

Moments of trials no one expected

As the buzzing city finally slept

Turning days gloomy and unreal

Nights into a dark tomb inadept

 

Fearing the air what it could hold

Unaware of the days and time passing by

Hope, it is stuck in the past

Bearing each moment with a weeping eye

 

Peeping through the window to a new world

Standing through losses and pain

Masked faces difficult to perceive

Keeping a distance, no one can complain

 

Streets walked down have become unknown

Dreams are the only places we know

Bereaved off our years and months

Nature has put on its own show

 

Moments flying by, as we stand still

Sun rises and sets across the horizon

Hoping the uncertain storm to subside

Calling out to freedom in anticipation of living

Hour Eighteen – multiple personalities

 

the playground

of multiple personalities

dark chambers

 

 

Note : this poem is written using the image prompt from hour seventeen