The Poetry Marathon

2022 Poem Eight

CW: Illusions/references to domestic violence

Reflections on One More Theory on Pandemic Polyamory

 

I’m sorry I did that.

Nothing I write could change anything I said or did.

Or, more accurately, didn’t do.

How could I have chosen to believe her?

Over you? I could lie and say I don’t know but

I know.

She had me wrapped into her reality-

Bending to her whims and believing she was The Wizard of Oz.

You escaped her influence almost a year before I did.

Before I could- Before I was willing to.

I can no longer judge you

For taking that risk;

For seeing her for who she was.

You fled to safety that I refused to provide.

I miss you- us.

You’ll forever be on the list of what she took from me.

Hour 18

The first time I said yes
to go to a club
I regretted my answer immediately afterwards.
I did not like the beats,
the closeness of the people.
I did not like the expectations,
the dancing to feel noticed.
I wanted anything but to be seen.

So it took me by surprise
that when I tried again,
this time in a country far away,
I felt the joy of movement.
My throat raw from the singalong music,
they were playing golden oldies.

We sneaked in a couple of beers
and people smoked inside,
the ceiling was low so my tall friend couldn’t do
too much up and down jumping.

And all I remember is that China
is the country where I learned how to dance.

Yes, We Can

about that text I sent last night

ignore it

it’s a draft

I was drunk and it was late

and I hit send too fast

I didn’t mean to tell you

I mean I did, but in the end

you knew I loved you long ago

and now we can’t pretend

it’s out there

now I’ve said the thing

for far too long ignored

can we really act like

it just doesn’t matter anymore?

My Precious Ones!

Days and days of joy
to kiss my baby boy
and watch him grow.

My precious baby girl
the same, with eyes
that light my heart.

Oh, babes!
Each moment with you
was a gift of happiness.

To hear your voice
To see your sweet faces!
“There comes my babies!”

Light it

Matches are for burning bridges
and lighting lanterns for escape.
Fly by night. I am a stone.
I am a shattered kneecap. No

flying for me. What then?
That bridge can burn

even if I’m still on it

 

Hour Eighteen – JOY

Prompt Eighteen – Write a poem about a moment of joy.

 

JOY

We had waited for this call for seven long years.

‘Hello,’ I answer, quivering with my fears.

‘We’ve found the perfect match,’ she said.

‘All sweet and pink, with a roundy round head.

But…’

Euphoric heart sinking, I whisper, thinking,

‘But?’

‘She’s polydactyl,’ said the voice.

I scream silently, losing all poise,

‘What does that even mean?’

The voice continues, gentle, unseen,

‘She was born with two left thumbs’

Wild relief, wild wild relief strikes me numb.

 

‘We could continue the search,’ I hear her say.

‘No,’ I shout, ‘we’ll be there today.’

‘We’ll be there in the next few hours

To see her, our baby, just ours.’

 

I sink to my knees to speak to the God above

‘Thank you, Thakur, for sending us a daughter to love.

I haven’t seen her yet, but I know she’s mine.’

And there was JOY in the moment, perfect, sublime.

 

 

 

22~9

he took it with him

 

the smell

of fresh blackberries

 

churned

into cold cream

 

surrounded

by salt and ice

smiles and laughter

 

an old wooden bucket

of ice cream by the lake

 

cousins swimming

amongst creepy fish

leaping from the boat

 

racing for purple streaked cones

handmade by my uncle 

 

recipe forever gone

 

just like him

Hour Eighteen – Fragments

Fragments

A window shatters
Tiny squares of glass cascade down
Mixing with the gravel in my driveway
Bright and unnatural as diamonds

For days I sift through the gravel
My gloved hand picking out cuboids
And prisms and oblongs and shards
Separating shiny window glass from the dusty gravel

I picture myself as Cinderella
Picking the lentils from the ashes
What a tedious task that was

But it is not so bad
Here on my front step
Dustpan full of gravel
Bucket filling with glass

Like Cinderella
I have the birds to sing to me

Arrival

Couldn’t wait to meet you
Carried you for nine months
Felt your first flutter and
Fell in love
Life would change

For the better it did
Worked up to the last day
Rocking from side to side

Belly protruding
I was anxious to see you

September 28th arrived
Through the processing I went
C-section they said, they prepped and prodded
I just wanted my baby to come now
The hour came, they cut me open
I met my little princess in minutes
Hollering, her announcement

She was alive and well
In that moment joy unspeakable
You can’t explain
It’s just floods you
Knowing that she was perfect
Made it all worth it!!

Flowers vol. 2

Can’t you feel the magic?
The air is alive.
Your hand is in mine, feel the electricity rise.
I’ve spent the last year tightrope walking for you in my dreams.
I’ve been talking to the flowers again. (You know how I do that.)
They whisper I got it right this time.
I find you in the hand knitted pieces of the sky.
You’re always there when I don’t even try.
You’re liquid sunshine.
I find you in every silver lining.
You arrive right on time.
I wish I could bottle this feeling.
Maybe I could just watch my heart healing.
Because I can’t forget you.
You’re engraved on my heart.
All days move exactly the same.
You encompass my brain.
It’s a silent refrain.
I sat still in an ever moving world.
I watched everything around me turn to rust.
I watched the flowers in the vase turn to dust.
I pressed down and left my fingertips on your heart.
I just want you to remember me.
Lately I hope that the memory of the warmth of your heart can’t be lost to time.
I wanna be where you are.
Because I know somewhere you’re mine.
Across the oceans or maybe in another timeline.
There is no way we don’t work when I know your hand fits perfectly in mine
She’s the music in the movie without her it just doesn’t make sense
Because when the book finds its end she is where we begin.