Hour 5
Sunflowers, I am under an oak
Tree, I must
Pry at the rusty nails
Sticking, they are
Out of wood rotting
Away, I long from
This place with no
Pavement, I don’t know
I will drop my wineglass on
Would You? (Hour 5)
Would you be kind
to offer me a crumb
of your cheddar cheese
to assuage my hungry mouth?
Would you let me sleep
in your mansion tonight?
Or would you cast me off to
your pavement on a wintry night?
Would you be the satchel to carry
me, a heavy hardback, across
life’s tortuous path?
Or would you be the nail
to fasten my resting box?
Apes in the Toy Aisle
I gorilla’d
and he orangutan’d
into the toy aisle
we were seeking
transformers figures
to gawk at and place on the shelf
The orangutan loved them
and he set them around the tv with their guns
facing us and killing us forever
There was a young boy in the aisle too
looking at some Minecraft legos
and then up at us
As we gorilla’d
and orangutan’d
and made inappropriate jokes as adult men
and he ran off
whether from fear of apes
or realizing what he might become one day
I couldn’t say.
Hour 6: For Shirley from Your Mama
It was not wise of you
to drown me in your whys
to keep asking me
to share painful memories
Why did you want to know
Why I had no use for educated fools?
Why I didn’t want you to be one?
Why I beat my last husband?
Why I thought his ghost would haunt me?
Why I don’t remember leaving you?
Forget the past
the tears and fears
the joys stolen
the voice taken
the choices few
Don’t dredge up
poverty’s pain
dreams deferred
Even before I crossed to this side
I drank deeply from the River Lethe —
Killing all those memories
Of love and loss and living
Remember me in those moments
where I would feign happiness
let me breathe color into my empty life
with a semblance of some meaning.
This is the curse of fire
It is hard to leave the room
when you are the one
who lit the match
Because fulfillment only comes
when you see the flames
grasping for the ceiling
This is the curse of fire
Anytime I see a fire rage
it still fills me with awe
to think about its grandeur
Seeing how the flame
only grows as it destroys
is still my greatest joy
This is the curse of fire
I have long wondered
how it would feel
to dance that close to the flame
And often have to tell myself
that letting the fire consume me
cannot be undone
This is the curse of fire
The hotter it becomes
the easier it is
to get lost in its embrace
I have never lit a match
without intending to watch it
until the fire became me
This is the curse of fire
Grandpa’s Satchel (2022 Poem 5)
Gandpa’s Satchel
Resting in Grandpa’s faded hardback chair
Sunflower swaying as a warm breeze
Gently blows through your long greying hair
Setting knitting down upon swollen knees
I offer up a piece of cheddar cheese
Trying to fill the silent space around my grief
You give my cold hand a gentle squeeze
I sip from my wine glass in disbelief
Sun-baked pavement buzzing like hard-at-work bees
Scratching a nail in the earth he said was blessed
Here beside his favourite old oak trees
Inside this satchel Grandpa’s ashes finally rest
(Prompt: Use at least 5 words/phrases: hardback, sunflower, knitting, cheddar cheese, space, wine glass, pavement, nail, oak, satchel)
Under The Surface Poem 4/Hour 4
Under The Surface
By: LuvMiFreely
This growing pressure
That choking feeling in my throat
I feel it all building up in my chest
My emotions at its breaking point
My outer appearance shows no sign of damage
Not one crack present
Can’t allow myself to shatter
I’m the strong one
Ash, keep it together
I’m ready to fold
Expectations high and failure isn’t an option
I’m forced to carry this load
I buckle and bend
But somehow I don’t break
I guess I was made to handle any burden
Take on any fate
Although I take what I’m handed and never question it
Doesn’t mean it’s not heavy
And that it isn’t weighing on my spirit
I’ve conditioned myself to smile
But under the surface I’m drowning
#5- Under the Willow
My satchel filled to the brim
With hardbacks heavy and stories joyful and grim
The field of sunflowers yellow
And in the distance, a weeping willow
Space (Hour 5: Using word incorporation prompt)
Looking out the back door
I see you in our hammock,
hardback novel jammed in beside you, splayed open
but your eyes are on your phone
I want to tell you I just nailed up the artwork we bought
together, when we were talking like normal humans
sitting on the cracked steps, discussing
space and Sufi mystics and our big oak tree
I suppose I could bring out our old habits:
cheddar cheese, and those purple wine glasses
we got at the flea market, but you
will tell Tuesday’s therapist we have nothing to talk about, anyway.
I step to open the garbage can
and throw your sunflower seeds for planting
inside.
—
Copyright 2022, SashaS
Hour Five – Patriarchy
Patriarchy
He planted Sunflower seeds
in the space behind
the courtyard.
I’m busy watering the
vegetable starts, keeping
my satchel of small garden
tools close at hand.
We finally got the deck repainted.
Now – after our historically wet Spring,
we sit outside in the sun with friends.
Wine glasses are graced with the Pinot
they brought from Oregon.
Cheddar cheese and crackers quickly disappearing
from the platter.
What we cannot digest.
Will not accept –
is the Supreme Court ruling this week!
It seems they want us returning
to knitting needles in back alleys.
Fingernails pressed hard into our
palms, as we pray for deliverance
from this damnable Patriarchy.