Hour4
Do you worship your ego?
Do you only want to please yourself?
Then, stop contacting me because
you are not the one for me!
Juncture hour 22
Juncture
I am on purple time
my watch, clock, phone all set
10 amethyst minutes ahead because
I run 5 lavender minutes behind,
always filling in every magenta moment,
fitting commitments in with a shoehorn
of heather determination.
I thrive on purple time
mingling poetry with purple images
to radiate orchid metaphoric soundwaves
through tapestries of aubergine sonnets
silk thread woven with tanzanite haiku,
plum love songs bordered by renga quilting
sestinas together in tapping beat time
with my heart.
I am purple on time, in connecting inner
and outer worlds for clarity and concision
in stripping away bark of falsifications to
let truth breathe free, to metronome in sync
with the universe with wisdom and power.
I am purple time, balanced between two worlds
secrecy and mystery, a transformation that defies
minutes and hours and instead embraces moments
bursting with undefinable matter wrapped in soft
sheets, cradled in creativity, swaddled in security.
I am purple in time with you.
~ J R Turek Hour 22
Hour 22
scraping the barrel here
asking me to write about pizza
most of which I’d rather not
but then I remember the glorious pizza of my childhood
Shakey’s Pizza Parlor
oh the world has never seen pizza in all its potential glory
unless they experienced pizza in its American infancy
large viewing windows, the better to see the miraculous thin dough discs flung into the air
by white-aproned teenage boys hiding their pimples under a full-on toque blanche
thin crust, thin crust, thin crust
and black-and-white silent films looped to the timing of a player piano
ahh, pizza was never so grand
Hour 22
Out of all the prompts I’m surprised pizza was this inspiring. But it was fun to write this up quick!
Hour 22 used prompt
Piece of joy covered
In cheese and mushrooms
Zapped in the oven to bake
Zipped into a delivery bag
Arrived at my home to eat
Hour 22 – Appian Way Pizza
Appian Way Pizza
Not to be confused with the road in Italy,
this Appian Way came in a box.
Not a pizza box, but a box right on the pantry shelf.
“Make your own for only 55¢” was one of their slogans.
It was always a special night
if our parents were going out
and we got to make our own pizza.
Hour 22 – Divorce (Limerick)
Divorce
There once was a man from Houston
With a wife and a home to roost in
He called her a whore
She called him a bore
And he now begs for change in a loose tin
Running Water
Running water
Running rivers
Rivulets chasing through the bog grass
Through the slate and through the loam
Off the road and through the heather
The blackthorn bites my arms.
Running water
Running rivers
Rivulets dried up after a drought
Tripping on tufts of moss
That come away at my feet.
There are hooves behind me.
Running water.
Running rivers.
For god’s sake where are the rivers.
I forge over the uplands
On the hilltop, there the rowans,
Lonely distant sanctuary.
Running water.
Running rivers.
All their little laughs are missing.
Is this the summer luck or some cruel game
The hooves are getting louder.
My legs begin to shake.
Running water.
Running rivers.
The ground dips down ahead.
I can smell the healthy bushes
And the sheep waste, and the wet.
And breath over my neck.
Running river.
Running water.
With splintered hands I clear the gate
And twist my ankle on the bank
And leap across the running water.
Never cross the same stream twice.
Hold your breath across the crossing.
Don’t agree to pay a price.
Don’t eat the food, don’t give your name.
Leave the horse with pond weed mane,
And when you’ve reached a safer shore
Don’t stop running.
Hour 22: Into the Wild
On a rainy night
I cracked the spine
Of the book that would change me
Shaping my mind and filling my thoughts
With prophecies and battles
And cats made of flame
The smell of those pages
Is one I have yet to encounter again
So the memory is clear and pristine
Bits and pieces of my life
Between those well-worn papers
Their names remain fresh on my tongue
No matter how long it’s been since I’ve heard their voices
Echoing in my head
I honor them in my own way
Years on
Silencio hour/prompt #22
Silencio (haiku)
long night of writing
silence finally fills the mind
the cup is empty
Hour 21: Midas
I am Aphrodite
I will draw you in
You won’t be able to help yourself
Every piece of you will want to love me
But I am also Medusa
Even if I love you
I will turn your heart to stone
I will be the last thing you ever love
I am Prometheus
I will give you more fire than you’ve known in a lifetime
But I am Icarus
Being with me means flying too close to the sun
I am Apollo
My way with words will drown you
But I am also Midas
Except I turn everything I touch to pain