The Poetry Marathon

Mothman’s Very Awkward Love Letter

Darling,

I didn’t collapse the Silver Bridge
though I did try to collapse the walls around your heart
I chased your car that night because I was trying to ask for your phone number
but in retrospect I’m sure all you heard through the window was ‘eeeeeeeeeeeee’
and I stared you in the eyes because my therapist said I have to do that to talk to people
eye contact is essential, he says
I’m sorry I ruined your retinas
with my high-beam brakelight eyes
when I met you in your garden
again, scaring the shit out of you
for which I am also sorry
but babe, I flew a stolen sofa and TV to the TNT plant
and I rented a movie on sasquatch
just for us
please reconsider
becuase in the future, I predict we’ll be together

forever

Don’t leave me flyin’ and cryin’,

-Mothman

An almost haiku

I can’t write about
Nineteen hundred twenty-two
Nineteen eighty-two?

Ahh, probably should keep those stories private!

Alive Too Long-Hour 4-Nasher form on text prompt

Alive Too Long

 

A century, give or take a few, have come and gone

I can’t believe we’ve lived this long.

 

Another century, give or take a few, is yet to come

I sure hope I am gone, ‘cause I don’t want to live too long.

A Hundred Years Ago

A hundred years ago
Humans were there
a few non-humans, well.. not so much.
A hundred years ago,
Some humans wept
but kept
going the way
all humans go
Like all humans are going even now
A hundred years later,
and quite a few non-humans have gone forever
But humans are still going on
For how long?
Another hundred years
If I said,
I’d perhaps be wrong!

Unprecedented Times

Glanced upon the death certificate
of a great-great-grandmother.
A time capsule on a tiny screen
she could have never imagined.

Cause of death: Bacterial Pneumonia
(after a bout of Spanish Flu).

Wish that classic saying
about history wasn’t true.
These cycles grow in intensity,
spinning out all that makes life
a worthwhile endeavour.
We are the creators of our own

destruction.

Freedom ain’t free

Freedom ain’t never been a land you see
Where we landed the sea
Barely sown or reaped
Never handed down cheap
Blood soaked and creeped

Mr Hughes show warned us
That place was never the place it seemed
Selling and crushing dreams
Even from its trees own seeds

Freedom ain’t never been a land you see
Where we hid the seek
Barely listen or speak
Always sold cheap
Bred strong and mean

Hour 4 – Soulmates

They disagree about soulmates,
but concur on their connection,
hard-won and inevitable.

There was only one bed
to bring their bodies together
and trade hesitant whispers.

There are so many beds
and they still choose to sleep
in each other’s arms.

They find each other soon,
young and curious, fast friends
who only grow closer.

They find each other late,
mature and jaded, suspicious,
but teach themselves to trust.

They fight through many trials,
forced to cling to one another
in a ceaseless storm of fear.

They live a life of peace, a slow
beginning, middle, and conclusion
filled with mild banter and fondness.

They end their lives together
filled with desperate, terrified hope
that will not save them.

They survive the worst of it,
and emerge from the wreckage
changed, but never alone.

Tragic, romantic, desperate, simple:
they have fallen in love many times,
and they shall fall in love again.

Prompt 4 – never sated

100 years ago/from now

nothing ever changes

The patriarchs slash and burn

reaping where they do now sow

Laying innocents upon their unholy altars

And only bones remain from the frenzied feast of fragile men

who hate and lust

never sated

never abated

3 Darting

Skipping through the flowers
sipping at the blooms
darting who knows where
they stop to say hello
with wings snapping in the air

I try to capture them mid flight
wings spread
bursting with shiny color
My camera is ready
but they are a blur

Fly free little ones
fly free
You’re not meant to be captured
even if only on film

Hour 4: [curtains of the dusk]

curtains of the dusk
unveil the beauty of moon-
silhouette tattoos