The Poetry Marathon

Hour Twelve – Snow White, Retold

Snow White, Retold

Seven dwarves who worked in a mine
Came home from their labors to find
Their beds were all made
Their bills were all paid
But the girl now in charge was hardlined

Snow White was never no dope
She made them all clean up with soap
Wipe their shoes on the mat
Each hang up his hat
But for good food they now had some hope

Snow White bit the apple and fell
Under the witch’s vile spell
The little men grieved
Wiped their eyes on their sleeves
But there is one more chapter to tell

The prince rode up on his horse
Which princes will do, but of course
They kissed, she awoke
She saw the small folk
“Sorry, I’m staying here,” she retorts

Hour 10: day it all began

1. let the sands of time turning
   as I relive each moment

the day it all began
I was only holding your hand
on an evening over icecream

fears, insecurities and doubts
that nagged our paths
melted with your touch

this day when it all comes together
we will embrace forever

the sun will shine on us
in this moment trapped in eternity
however our reality may spin
in practicality

Dancing or Not Dancing (Poetry Marathon 2022 – Hour 12)

Dancing or Not Dancing (Poetry Marathon 2022 – Hour 12)

We can leave
Anytime
After we smile
And dance
The sun and moon
Are of no consequence
Indoors climbing
Towards a destination
A place never been
Never seen
And if they smile
We smile back
And if they wave
We wave back
We turn trumpets
Into words
And words
Into flutes
They are wind instruments
And won’t mind
The transpositioning
We hold our hands out
And dance with strangers
Each to our own rhythm
They are strangers to us
Not to others
We were invited
Someone invited us
To join in the jamboree
I only know one dance
And one move within that dance
But you know more
You know how to sway to multibeats
These strangers can enjoy watching
You find the right flow
Time no longer matters
After a drink or two
I need those drinks
To calm down
To be involved
To lower my inhibitions
But it doesn’t help me
Find the dance floor
It doesn’t help me
Find the beat
It may even make my dancing worse
You’ve seen me dance
You’ve instructed me
In a fine technique
I cannot understand
How to move a figure eight
I move my feet back and forth
Pretending to follow you
But I am off by the time
It takes to figure out what you did.
Whenever you’re ready we can go
Whenever you think we’ve been here long enough
They smile at us
We smile back
They wave at us
We wave back
We weave our way across
The dance floor
We hear applause
For someone else
Not for us
I don’t know if I really want to leave
I am unhappy either way.

Hello Everyone!

My name is Double-AA-battery, and I am 12 years old. This is is my second time participating in the 24 Hour Poetry Marathon. I had a lot of fun participating in the last marathon, I’m back for round 2!

I saw (Hour #12)

I saw you last year on the news; you were the one clothed in blue and gray, you were the one who’s smile seemed faked, you were the one who had a sad eye on a happy face, you were the one who shed unseen tears, you were the one who wanted to be free, you were the one who lied and said you’re fine.

I saw you last year on the news.

I saw you last month at the show; you were the one with the aching heart no one could tell, when I approached you my name didn’t ring a bell, you were the one inwardly dying and outwardly laughing, you were the one saying hopeful thing to others — things that you really wanted someone to tell you.

I saw you last month at the show.

I saw you last week at the mall; you were the one with sunken eyes but glaring makeup on, you were the one carrying too many bags they became burdens, you were the one looking at the distorted mirror, you were the one moving with a crowd of fake friends.

I saw you last week at the mall.

I saw you yesterday night; you were the one crying at 3am, you were the one that screamed aloud from a nightmare, you were the one walking down the street in the dead of night… feeling no cold as your heart was all frozen up, you were the one wishing it was all over, you were the one going through your masks — trying to decide which to put on the next morning.

I saw you yesterday night.

I saw you at the bar six hours ago; you were the one holding a glass of champagne, you were the one with bloodshot eyes and a miserable smile, you were surrounded by cameras, you were the one not living life but existing.

I saw you at the bar six hours ago.

I walked by your house just now; you had a glass cup in your hand and an open wine bottle nearby, you rocked your head to an R&M beat, your eyes were shut but you could see things through your mind’s eye — things were falling apart around you but you didn’t care, you just shut your eyes and drowned beneath the waves of the song.

Then you opened your eyes and saw me.

 

 

Hour 12: A Memory

12 years ago I captured a memory,
And in that memory I saw today, writing it into history
A large room that would turn into a small room
Because my family is just that big
A small couch that would turn into a large couch
Because my aunty, she just can’t sit alone
And memories floating, getting caught in my throat
Tickling and sneezing, oozing with laughter
As my mother offers mangoes and apples on a tray
And tomorrow maybe someone would say
The mangoes were too ripe, the apples looked cheap
The couch was too old, we nearly sank when we sat
That uncle never calls enough
And grandfather can now barely talk
But he still walked that day, around the room
Silently laughing, but assuming aloofness
At how memories fade, and only laughter remains
A private, secret, shared laughter
That I sniffed, and liked and caught and kept
In my little case that I don’t have many of
Because I knew someday I would write it down.

Orange Candy

Orange Candy

Prized possession
only shared among best friends
a fight here, a scuffle there
getting along once again
just for an orange candy

Hour 9

@varenyas

Hour Nine: Yielding

They say of many things—statistics,
prisoners, friends, the truth—if you
torture them enough, they will yield.

Not me. I was the first to tell you I loved you,
long before you said the same to me—
long before you were I sure. Before I was.

I was the first, in a cruel twist of traditional
to say ‘I do.’ You said it too, and I know your
arm wasn’t twisted up behind your back.

You were holding my hand, yours in mine
and mine in yours, looking now as it did then,
except for the engagement ring that is not

the one I gave you, and except for the missing
golden band. Mine you took off. I won’t torture
myself by guessing when his will go on. I yield.

Chattanooga

Rope bridge suspended over chasm

we’re walking it, even as it sways

and know that the fall would be

completely catastrophic.

 

There’s a part of us both

that knows this trail ends

and sometimes it’s so good

I could stay on this unstable bridge forever.

 

 

This Shit Again (on Roe v. Wade)

Today I have no energy

No more room to fight

I’m filled with so much darkness

There’s little room for light

I want to say to riot

Fill the streets with fire

Give each and every Justice choice

To die or to retire

I want to say to protest

Till the forefathers are haunted

To scream for revolution

But I’m too goddamn exhausted