The Poetry Marathon

Pizza Musings – Hour 22, Prompt 22

Lately, I feel

all the fighting, unreal

my toppings should not

cause friendships to stop.

 

There’s pineapple, whew

causes quite a to-do

arguments ensue

with spam, they say eww!

 

But pizza’s like people

no two the same, or equal

toppings they vary

with four cheeses, or nary.

.

Some people are hot

peppers sprinkle a lot

and pepperoni, to boot

keeps a dude at salute.

 

Some, they are tougher

cheesier, meatier

thick crust they do have

like people who’re bad.

 

Sweet ones, they have many

tart apples and berries

with Gouda or cheddar

these girls make it better.

 

In the end, they all rock

like different socks

whatever may thee choose

just do pizza for you.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023

 

 

 

 

23~19

drippy days

hoodies in the dark

vermin thriving

playing in the park

death lives with me

we are not friends

 

luv #4

 

luv iz yellow

a ray  of spring sunshine

luv iz red

a fiery covering igniting

luv iz blue

a cold breeze on an august day

luv iz purple

a royal crown adorning a regal space

luv iz black

a priceless gem

 

Lost Art of Legible Handwriting

At some point in my day-to-day writing, it appears
I lost my cursive muscle.
My handwriting had morphed into
a poor man’s Comic Sans with my own
spin being little “connectors,”
a pretense to cursive, I suppose,
without any real effort to be actual cursive.

My shame was private
until now.

I’m in solitary cursive rehab,
and the results are painful.
To the eye, and to the memory
of my once effortless cursive.

Someone told me – and I hope this person
was wrong – that cursive is no longer
being taught in school.

At the risk of sounding creaky,
penmanship isn’t an old fashioned thing
to be discarded because we can text one another.

It’s a personal expression. To write a lovely letter
in distinctive handwriting is to honor the art of correspondence,
and, hopefully, the person with whom we’re corresponding.

And, where would the study of graphology be without
handwriting? What do I want my handwriting to say about me?
That I’m resilient, and, if I keep practicing, elegant in my scrawl.

HR-10

Writers block is hell
This sounded great a minute ago
Let me just take this out
Put this line here
Maybe that line there

No, no, no wrong
It’s all wrong
Crumble it up
Throw it out

Let’s begin this again
You got this, its all gravy
If I can put this together just right

Writers block is hell
Hey this sounds alright now
Let me just put this in
Put that line there
And this line here

Yes, yes, yes alright now
It’s all better
Straighten it up
Put it away

Enough.

I’ve collected enough scars
to feed the guilt that’s feeding on me.
I’ve spent enough tears
on pitying for myself.
Enough smiles I’ve wasted
thinking it was fine.
Enough fears I’ve felt
of growing too fast.

Poem 22

Sllllooooooooowww

Never once feeling like not one

Thing not two things

But to the very definition 

Absolute in number and in sum

nothing 

Zero

 

It was the amnesia of ever

Existing

Forgetting what shape my matter

Liked to take form

Collecting my mass from the palm

Of my hand to the nape of my neck

Just to remember the sheer will it 

takes to move a breathing body

 

It’s the readings done on the 

Paleozoic Era and letting

The wild slithering, creeping, crawling

majestic creatures, rule your mind 

For a respite in time.

 

Pondering how they had their moment

And wondering if this is how they feel

To be ancient and long gone

tableforone2am

Table for One2am

Welcome welcome
would you like a table
or a booth tonight?

Table please-
I have a reservation

Yes
– We’ve been expecting you.
Follow me please

Your table is ready
your host was very specific
in the setting up and arrangement
of your evening
Here is your menu for tonight

Ma’am? Here is your wine
If I may say so,
your dress is lovely, definitely approved
Though, If I may, your hair would look better
down

Something doesn’t feel right
but I can’t put my finger on it
just yet
But I’m not too scared

Your host is running a little behind
and asked that you go ahead and
order
what would like to eat?

2023 Hour 21: Running haiku

Write a poem that starts and ends with the word running.

Running, leaping, free,
Endorphins coursing wildly,
Body craves running.

19 restless

small changes keep

whispering over there

soon to creep closer

turn off the box

to unknow what happens

where is the respite

when roused at three

the brain reminds

us awake