The Poetry Marathon

Hour 8 Couple on a Bench

“I’m not waiting to live my life, I’m trying to catch it.” Sybil Bank

They sit together

his arm around her shoulder

talk of their great grandchildren

as they watch geese glide across the surface

of the pond.

The wind is quiet

and their final send offs settled.

Golden years are full of doctors appointments,

writing out birthday cards and T.V.

They wonder why young people are always looking down at their phones and not at each other.

Ask why the BMW has to blast Rap music as it speeds by.

Together, they plan dinner and to call their oldest son tomorrow.

Today is a good day she remembers him, his arthritis isn’t so bad.

Soon they’ll walk hand in hand home,

gave up driving when their vision started

deteriorating.

It’s in each other’s arms they feel most alive.

8th hr image prompt: Balance

Maintain balance

To sense

Any trance.

Properly do

To better show

For realization.

There are 10 sections

Each one wants it’s portions.

Let them hold on.

Without any condition,

Without regretness,

A new vision.

Balance is essential

Whether pain or love,

For the cosy ride.

Last Night I went to Heaven

Last night I went to heaven.
I met a man that whispered your name like a prayer.

They tell me I’m destined for hell with a frown painted face.
I tell them I have been living there most of my life.
What’s another night?

I try my hardest not to cry.
You are always the very last thing on my mind.

If I could cut my tongue out of my mouth.
If I could just get in my car; run out of town.

I would change it all if I could just never drown.
Last night I went to heaven.

I try my hardest not to cry.
You whisper hope is not dying.
But can you see where I am already dead?

And you want me to be sad that she is gone.
But I am so glad to have grown.

Hour 8 – Faith

God is gold and green and flowing
Like a forest river in evening sun.
Every vein runs clear and clean
Filled from the rushing source.

Angels glow yellow and delicate
Like gossamer gingko-winged fairies.
They might dance among the clouds
Or rest in a young needy soul.

Solitude

Beckons like a broken boat
over a small waterfall,
like a garden rose
before bloom, like
an exposed live wire,
like an unfolded sheet,
like toes in sand,
like stargazing on
the Edgar Allan Poe library,
like an unmatched set
of earrings, like the Atlantic
joins the Arctic with
the bears, like a rainbow
hammock swaying in June
like a Catholic funeral.

Prompt Eight – The Introvert

Hour Eight – Gigans must be 16 lines in length with seven stanzas (each stanza is separated by a line break). It goes couplet (two lines), tercet (three lines), couplet, couplet, couplet, tercet, couplet.

The first line is also the eleventh line, line six is repeated as line 12 as well.

Optionally the closing couplet should put a twist on the poem, but that isn’t a requirement.

 

The Introvert

 

I want to stand next to you

and not feel any less.

 

I want to be in a room full of bright souls

and feel sleek. I long to belong

not be an unwelcome mess.

 

I want to be on the same page

and not have to pretend

 

or bend and blend,

struggle to befriend.

 

I want to stop looking in.

I want to stand next to you

 

and be on the same page,

perform on the same stage,

alive in the same cage.

 

But. I’m free, you know?

Just. Always outside. Looking in.

 

 

 

 

Basically, Kentucky

As I was walking outside I ran into my neighbors, an older couple.
The lady pet my dog and said she liked his big head.
I do too.

The bottom tip of the state,
away from the cornfields
but not away from the nothing
and the air just thick enough
to be the South.

‘Little Egypt’ the area is called,
because of the rivers
and the reminders all around
of something ancient.

Hour 8 ( Cooking Skills)

Cooking seafood is a treat
Making Lobster sweet
Dropping sauce
Sipping tequila
in a kitchen discrete.

copyright(c)2022 Roxann Lawrence

“I’m Seven and You’re Nine”

I’m seven and you’re nine,
And I don’t question, nor wonder why.

You’re a precious view of summer,
A sunlight, A lily or sunflower,
You’re my forever and ever.

In my everyday, I see it through,
You are my greatest color hue.

My lovely light, in my darkest days,
A twinkling stars in every way.

You make me happy when life gets sad,
A funny joke when I gets mad.

You are my best friend, lover and companion,
Having you always means,
I am a true champion.

So I’ll take the seven and you take nine.
Coz’ I’m a winner, when you’re mine.
.
.
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Writer: M.E. Flores
Hour08, Text Prompt08

Vispassana

Still as a dead monk
Intentional ignorance of pain
No adjustments, no voice.
Brown mosquitos the size of
Hummingbirds feeding from the temple
Blood throws directly into
proboscis, a straw sipping
gently, buzzing still.

No thoughts. No words.
No writing or reading and
Ten Years. Ten days.
No friends. Little food.

No thoughts. No words.