The Poetry Marathon

Gotta Block You – hour 6

Hour 6, Prompt 6

(a letter from someone who left me)

 

Gotta Block You

 

Thanks for voting for me in the vocal competition.

Thanks for sharing the link to buy tickets to my play—it went over great for an all-female cast in a small town like this, right?

Thanks for the chocolate-laden care package when Misty died due to complications from AIDS—I still miss her somethin’ fierce.

Thanks for all the excited text messages about the upcoming Bob’s Burgers movie—altho, you know, you used an EXCESSIVE number of exclamation points. LOL

Thanks for the pictures of mongoose and otters—I don’t know why I think they’re so adorable, but they make me smile.

Thanks for inquiring about my bro’s health and offering to pray for him before surgery—altho, you know he’s never been religious.

Thanks for always texting random song lyrics each time a new James song dropped.

Thanks for contributing to Pax’s veterinary fund—no one else had money to spare when that was going down.

But, look, Karen told me who you voted for.

And I just can’t even…

 

Hour Six: The Dog’s Birthday

The Dog’s Birthday
(a Tanka)

This day
is special
they say.
I just want
my breakfast.

Don’t let your words throw punches

You always think

You’ll have another moment

To erase the pain

left by harsh words

Said without thinking.

 

It was a silly disagreement

But I left with tears

Caressing my disappointed expression

And your pride didn’t follow me

As I hurriedly walk away.

 

Neither of us knew

That would be our last discussion

Together.

 

You were my friend.

Your unspoken apology

Whispered to the heavens

With your every day actions.

 

Every moment is precious.

Don’t let your words throw punches.

 

Mandy Austin Cook

Hour 6 Growth

I witnessed you in darkness without a firm footing

struggling to survive because nature abhors suicide

so lost and drowning in the alcohol and drugs;

anesthesia for your pain;

also blunting the happiness and joy that continued to exist

no matter how empty the chasm felt because nature abhors emptiness

Now are you thriving instead of just surviving—

An empowered and wise soul with the willingness to keep

growing and going.

Bonded Trauma

My grandmother didn’t have enough time
to float down the gentle riverbed.
Society threw stones her way for the crime
of having a unique mind.
I hear stories of when she was “well”,
and rich in joy for life.

My grandfather didn’t have enough time
to float down the gentle riverbed.
His faithful, loving heart turned against
him one bitter February.
I hear stories of when his heart was
alive and radiated to all.

My parents met later on, bonded over
their shared trauma of losing a parent
at such a tender age. Only commonality
between them. All that was needed.

Pink Moon

I woke up at 2 AM.

So hungry.

I decided on a veggie wrap

Easy to make.

 

I look out the window,

There was the moon,

Staring back at me.

Being brushed by puffy clouds.

 

With an orange glow

Wonder what that was all about

Grabbed my phone to look it up

April’s pink moon.

 

It was the name of the moon

This beautiful moon

after a flower,

Pink Moon.

Brakeslammer

Brakeslammer

Opening your third eye
but it’s like you used a knife
and the trips you took on shrooms
I didn’t know if you would come back from
your speech was garbled on the comedown
a swarm of jank syntax and lip jerks
you found God in the couch cushions
and tried every religion within a week

We used to watch gore videos
Cartel chainsaw executions
and chinese factory catastrophes
were the primary ones
and you told me about digging up
the bones of animals you buried
because you liked to watch them decompose

Now it’s crystals and namaste
you telling me how dark it all was
and how I fed on the tragic energy,
these blackened and jagged bits of smoke
like I was some kind of psychic vampire
but I remember a time you joined in
and we drained the world vicariously
together.

Still a Good Daughter but More – Hour Six

I still remember that Father’s Day, 14 years ago. You wore that special ruffled purple dress I loved. You looked beautiful walking down those stairs. It made me smile. When I shook your hand, later that day, and told you that you’d been a good daughter for twenty-seven years, I knew my health was tedious and moments left might be few. I did not know how few. I had no way of knowing, even if becoming sicker, that I had but a week. I had plans. I know you did too.

I’ve watched you go on to finish school, get married, and not only live a dream but also experience a miracle in delivering my only grandchild. Watching Emily, the baby you named when you were a kid, grow up is such a joy and I wish I were there to hug her in person. But, I’m there.

All those days, Emily sees me at the pool, I’m there. When she sees me in the clouds, I’m there. I do talk to her. I fly over to visit. I’m always there.

You’re still a good daughter but, more than that, you’re an equally good wife and absolutely the best mother. Thank you for keeping my memory alive. I love you.

Flight of last Returning

in the ancient world of India 

The flight of last returning Florida

Drowned itself in quakesand a mystery unknown that shakes

Up the sea red underneath

Grey down below the surface hinden stones

Never to recover

Shaking in the wind storm

Until moonlight to shine midnights glowing on the earth

A peaceful movement changes everything

God created while here

Nothing can stop it nor hinder it

For God got it all along

Hour Six: Dear almost

Dear almost friend

I would have still met you
at our secret place to exchange
our sweet sorrows and star speckled dreams,
to imagine a brave world where we ruled,
free from restrictive curfews
and the necessity of social choice.

How naive were we to believe
we could mould and carve our destiny?
it was laid for me as for you
but i will still give you strength.

I will not compete, I will not complain
I will not act selfish, I will listen
I will give back the love that was duly yours
I will not guard and fence my thoughts
I will pick up the phone to dial your contact to speak to you,
I will not merely be a flickering flashback
in the long reels of bittersweet memories.
after all these years, i will be the friend you needed me to be.

We would still buy coffee
and compare notes on cheap paperbacks.
In the tide of time, you and I will still exist,
as if we are friends and not just like friends.