The Poetry Marathon

Hour 20 – Dungeon Master (Haiku)

Dungeon Master (Haiku)

 

Creator of worlds
Master of dungeons and fear
Like herding felines.

Prompt 21

Running

 

The First Performance

cw: none

Singing alone
was very different
from singing in front of another:
when the canary finally sang again,
it sang in front of
those sweet, gentle hands,
its friends.
It was not lifted
and put to work,
but there was applause.
It thought, perhaps,
it could sing again.

Monumental

I have bound the sunset in a tower,
Scoured the beaches formed of oaken rain.
I have parted monumental shades of night
To find
Mirror cliffs, with mist all twisted into
Helical clouds pinned by opportunity,
And the forest of the lonely.

I have taken lightning in my hands
Without thunder,
I have pulled a thousand greedy fields
About my shoulders;
I have raised them up to dim the sun
And I have discarded them.

Where love has set the bounty of the orchard into furrows
I have sewn consummation, disarray.
And where time has thought to steal away unchecked,
I have given it a bell to spoil its hunt.

Hour 18

I like the idea I had going here but I’m tired and my brain can’t think through long thoughts.

 

Hour 18 used prompt

 

It’s odd to feel almost haunted

When I spend time with them

They are still here

Still real

But they said they could be sick

And if they are who knows how long they get 

So I feel followed by the shadow

Of possible loss when I’m with them

We

Maybe it is just me
a lifestyle that robbed me of language
under attack by enemies,
real and imagined
cheated by phantoms
whining and gnashing
Maybe it’s just me
and the alienation isn’t real
when you can’t see it.

Chaos Bound – Hour 21

He there when existence began reality’s sonata.

Resonant in its authority and importance in a bid to obtain affirming stigmata.

Resounding lives ever fail to perceive the clarity of oblivion.

Oblivious to the purity of the void’s song, sung in hell’s season.

He was the overture of this so called living pièce de résistance”.

Chaos wrought creation and it is in this anarchy he sings his opus.

Off it

Rachnoc Haiku 21 Hour 21

From his memory
Released, on her Rachnoc feasts,
And our hero does run.

Hour 19 – Decay & The After

Decay & The After

 

In my own journey away from life, 

all I can ask for is a falling apart that is proactive

 

let my eyelashes blow from my face

like a dandelion, let them fly, let me fly

 

let me pretend where they land, 

I will have more opportunities to grow

 

let my nose melt into anthills

to make my body home, no, many homes

 

let maggots bleed from my cheeks,

dripping from dwellings of their own creation

 

let my hands turn to mouths turn to ash

let my lifeline speak before I combust

 

let my body be 

and be

 

and be

until it isn’t

 

until it all falls apart