Hour 1 “We are all students of life.” Anne Coen

Open mind sets welcome creativity inside.

Closed minds are on a trap like the Staten Island Expressway on any give day.

A new language, new religion, a song in two different languages crosses boundaries not barricaded in prejudices.

We are never too old to learn something new, open a book be embraced by cultures. Discover something, someone different from ourselves.

My Junior High crush had me fall in love with Italy. Napoledons with big Roman noses.

Thirty-five years later I still think of Frankie. Whenever Italian is spoken, tomato sauce fragrances Sunday morning air, gentle kisses on my cheek in hellos, olive skin dark and smooth with almond shaped eyes.

This book opened me and never collected dust on life’s shelf.

 

 

 

Thinking in Paradox Hour 1

I am thinking of how to let go

and I am thinking of how to hold on.

I am thinking about how to move forward

and how to keep from slipping back.

I am thinking about a definition of success

while perseverating on failure.

I am wondering where the road leads

and where to find respite.

I am believing in a sweet form of happiness,

without the conflict of now.

I am thinking about deception in opposition

to lies.

I am thinking about how less might give me

more.

Text Prompt – Poem 1 Baptism

Baptism

Submerged in a cave splashing
Narrow tunnels splashes
Warmly swaddling like a coat
Drenched from the baptism
Folding my arms under spraying
Unable to swim undignifying
My head under water damping
Not sure what to do annoying
Opened my eyes soaking
The sky blue above flying
Submerged in a cave splashing
An Angel overshadowed fighting
I am baptised in a pool drenching
I am born again to floating
Christening Naming Immersion
Sprinkling Ablution Dedication
Write a poem about being in water
Gigan poetry -16 lines
Line 1 is repeated in Line 11

 

Prompt #1 / Hour #1 Write a poem about being in water.

Once a proud horse galloping across waving grasses

deepest green turned blue

the sun warming and nourishing her senses

she belonged among the warm winds and soft rains.

Her home was free.

Her whole being was boundless.

She found herself swept in the flood

as the blue burnished darker and

grass turned into tangling seaweed.

Her whole being was bound, yet

she learned to pivot and twist.

The tides caressed warm waves around her

and she became a seahorse.

Proud now with a majesty born of forced then determined transformation,

she glides through the water’s depths.

 

Raindrops

Raindrops

Under the sky
Surrounded by the warmth
Of the droplets of miracles
Sparkling prisms of wet light
dancing down my hair.

A cleansing comfort
worries melting into the ground
To be left behind in the arms
of nature.

Barefoot in the freedom of it
I revel in the comfort of the rain
How it awakens a smile
While remembering sunshine.

Mandy Austin Cook

Ist Poem – Hour 1 – Full Marathon – The Cipher Winds (Visual Prompt)

The cipher winds herald a new cleanse as we wait beneath the stellar comforts of our guiding tribune, pointing to our stars where our torches are lit in magical harmony with the chill of a new bliss awaiting by virtue of our assembled accord

The calling whispers, chill connected cell sparsts with the life of a new adventure as we find our way back to this timeless star of kind intentions; troubling still. For the slumber before this awakening keeps sweet sake on the vessel of hallowed fortunes in the high trees of perfect nature, detached from the chaos, marking passage through this passing valley of constant souls….

I see you my friend

I hear you close

come

come

 

Into the Clouds

Storm clouds come rolling in
Waiting for the downpour with bated breath, tongue tied
Let the rain drown out the pain

Into the clouds now
Don’t make a sound
The rain lives in her veins.
The ocean is alive in her eyes.
The water pours from her soul.

She was born of water
Not just someone’s daughter
Lost to the hurricane alive in her soul.
The rain within her never leaves her alone.

Fall into the clouds now
Stop! Don’t make a sound
The rain is alive inside
The ocean calls her home
The water comes from her very soul.

Spitting in the Water

When I was 7 years old, my parents took me for swimming lessons.

They were too expensive…

Now water is rising everywhere and I realize,
I’ve floated through life, avoiding the whirlpool—
that unforgiving force of the world around me
the thoughts, actions, utterings of people divided—
because I know I will sink

I’ve hidden for so long, yet
today, the rising tide can’t be avoided anymore
I’m being submerged against my will in
a barrage of hate and division
thrashing in this sea as
the force around me tightens

With every breaking story I feel myself sinking deeper and deeper
into an abyss of political creation

I take one stroke towards freedom,
I think I’m improving, making a difference,
but the current picks up and I see that
I don’t have the power
to fake my way through
an ocean of hate

I’m drowning
and the world around me looks on
too busy spitting into the water to notice
the bubbles rising to the surface

O
O
o
o
.
.

Prayer

God in prayer

To praise all

Amazing grace

A song of poems psalm

Tarry the land and mark

He’s the care taker of this world, life path he gave

Makes plentiful sense to understand of our purpose and why we are here.

Destiny role

Rise us on up

Victory

Showers us in the rain

Merciful beauty

A blessing that one like hom cares so much

Time and patience he has

Counting the minutes

Day by day

Just to see of a journey gone through

Hour one

a slight wiggle

a semi stretch

my body tenses

then releases

wet water world

slime slimy me

skin slippery

downy

 

curl up into a ball

breathe in fluid

in in

no taste yet

another wiggle

move that knee

grab the toe

the big toe

 

suck on it

ah, this is life

swimming

stretching

sinking