The Poetry Marathon

Water

I think about it
while I’m at work
about slowly dipping myself
into the hot steamy basin
feeling my body submerged
releasing the tension
from the day
from my aching throbbing self
but I don’t.

I tell patients all day long
at the chronic pain clinic
to relax those muscles
to free the spasms that envelope them
to take a break from the pain
find some respite
for just a little while
but I don’t.

Release your mind, I say
soothe the body
free the spirit.
I tell them the prolonged
pain response
is like pouring gasoline
on a fire
to care for themselves
find the energy to
change their routines
but I don’t.

Hour Two: Let the Fear Speak

Peek over that ledge

but not too far

lest you forget

who you are:

not one to take risks

oh no

not that

too scared of the fall

and what’s below

or that you might

fumble and tumble and

make a splat

and the world will

point and laugh as you

drown in a pool of

your own foolish

blood.

Hour 2 (2022) image – Above, the Beloved ©️

Trigger Warning – loss, death, greif

<image prompt response>

 

I watch you grow,

wondering if you know,

how proud I am

to see you glow.

 

The birds sing songs

to let you know,

My love is sent

—

As above,

So below.

—

I’m still here;

I’m free!

Please do not fear.

But,

remember me,

with glee.

 

Hour 2: [wriggling reflections]

wriggling reflections-

ripples traveling along

painted serene lake

his journey

he climbs

no destination in mind

the journey, his freedom, his peace

he climbs further still

above the clouds

’til I am dust and he is sky

Poem 2 Hour 2 Music

The woods are lovely, dark and deep (Robert Frost)

I whisper my secrets to the leaves.

Time is lost and I am found.

I’m not alone among the creatures who sleep.

I face the demons in my mind.

The wind creates music within the trees.

And we dance together long past evening.

The Darkest Hour, hour two prompt

Standing still in woods alone,

long limbs shake and ears prick

hearing hoofbeats just beyond the woods.

A partial alarm is waiting

Heart pounding and quietly quaking

watching the man admiring the snow.

I turn and sprint to life, fleeting like wind,

dark against black, against Robert Frost’s

‘the deepest night’,

a lone deer flying deeper into the wood,

the wood still, and silently, filling with snow.

Hour #2–Haiku

Verdant canopies

Whisper in the gentle breeze

With sunlight dancing

Miles to Go Before I Sleep- Hour 2

Miles to go before I sleep.

Whispers of words

Poems sliding into consciousness

I glide my fingers across the keyboard

Allowing them free reign

to do what they wish.

My mind is jumbled

With today’s news

Tomorrows promise

But today

I am poetry

A sing song palette

Words slinking, swaying,

Sorting themselves

22 Poems to go

Miles to go before I sleep

(Inspired by Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening)

Wake