The Poetry Marathon

Hour & : Sarees and Survival

The foundation of enduring craft,

Cotton sarees create rich narratives

with a legacy steeped in history,

Stories abound in the tale of their fabric.

 

 

Cotton sarees convey tales,

with a dynamic colour palette; not to be outdone,

they proudly carry traditions on display,

from antique looms to contemporary textiles.

 

 

They carry the past in complex patterns,

embraced in cotton sarees, memories endure.

By telling the story of past events and civilizations,

history does unfold in the embrace of cloth.

 

 

The foundation of enduring craft

stories that endure in the tapestry of history

a cultural treasure trove, cotton sarees,

a description of the lively cove in landscape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old Fashioned

Old Fashioned

 

I’m still here, I’m just listening.

To what?

To you.

Why?

Because I like to. I’m writing down what you say.

In a notebook or typing it out?

Typing.

I’m just not going to say anything.

Why not?

If you were writing in a notebook I would.

Keep talking.

Hour 20 – Bladder control

Your callings in the darkness of night
leave me exhausted and sore
yet if I ignore, I will pay
with puddle and piles to clean in the morn

Your bladder, they say, is fine
no tummy troubles are found
you just like to pee all the time
so rise I will to keep you still

SILENCIO – #22

Keep glib quotations away from me

Remove patronising soporific poetry

 

I don’t care for prayers

 

Nothing satisfies or placates me

in your inevitable absence

 

I still rise early to greet you

to make you laugh and tell you stories

 

To hear the sound of your voice

 

I ‘m afraid of forgetting the sound of your voice

I think I’ve forgotten the sound of your voice

 

There are no heavenly bells

or eternal sanctuaries where you reside

 

Dust

You are dust

 

All I’m left with 

is silence

Hour 22 – Vertebrae

Vertebrae

The earrings that play demolition
to the tender skin of my neck
have snake vertebrae as wrecking balls.
The bone, an aged cream,
is still pointed, lightly sharp.
Acupuncture from a dead thing
haunts the body differently than metal does.
But they hang and swing and graze
so close to the first vertebrae of my own spine
the one with bone shaved away.
I can almost pretend that wearing
the rigid organs can serve as replacement
for what I have lost, for all that surgery robbed me of.
Perhaps the fragments of my own body
are out there somewhere, still surviving,
and if so, shouldn’t I survive too?
I am sure I will muster the faith
to believe it is over, someday. But today,
I will let the snake possess this body
if only to move my neck freely once more.

23~18

decades lost

haunted

by him

 

full of pain

haunted

by her

 

moving on

haunted

by your self

Hour 19 – You know, that thing

That thing that hangs on the wall
jumbled thoughts, inspiration
is where ideas I do scrawl
to organize as I sit to write

On that machine with the buttons
that make up the words
that roll up into stories
of heroes, the ordinary and the nerds

To be read on pages bound together
or scrolled on screens
or listened to, whatever
on that little device you hold to your ear

Hour7

A shower or a long bath?

Salt or sugar? Pain or pleasure?

How do you want our life to be?

Do you have any idea at all?

2023 Hour 20: Routine

Write a poem about a routine or ritual that is part of your life. It can be something like making coffee every morning, or something like attending religious services once a week.

Some people thrive on routine,
On knowing what comes next,
On following the familiar path;
I am not one of those people.

Erratic schedules never phased me.
Late nights and early mornings,
Meal times scattered throughout the day,
Varied school or work hours, as assigned.

Of late, though, I try to maintain routine.
Alarms set to wake up and take pills,
Controlling when to work and when to play.
Could it transform my life?

Well, still no regular times to eat,
Still no common time to sleep,
As yet, no repetition-wrought epiphanies;
Could routines be overrated?

(Hour 22) 19.30pm-20.30pm. BOTH PROMPTS: pizza + silence

a small piece of peace

given : we’ve all : only known each other : less than a week : it’s pretty remarkable : how well we all : get along : the most conflict : i guess unsurprisingly : given they’re sister & brother : is between Stella & Rueben : who you can tell : though they love each other : since that first day of truce : reunited : do also : know which buttons : to push

we’re all spread around : a small fire : singing sparks : into the dark sky : discussing : what we miss most : no one can agree : & weirdly : it’s not so much : the tablets : & internet : as uniquely : personal : things : but then : Ben says : pizza

& suddenly : for the first time : there’s a beat : of genuine : silence : as we all remember : piping hot : pizza : greasy fresh : from the box : till Rueben breaks : the ceasefire : gotta be Hawaiian : & Priya screech-shouts : pineapple : on piz-zah! : please tell me you’re kidding

& that moment : just before : Margherita : & BBQ chicken : & supreme with anchovies : pepper the air : is one of the happiest : of my life : so far