The Poetry Marathon

‘Crash’

1. ‘Crash’

 

The man was smoldering in the ditch

they had tried to put him out

he was a charcoal lump covered in white foam.

 

When they tried to get him in the bag

his skin sloughed off like that of baked chicken

and his half-skull head lolled.

 

His car was a desiccated metal husk

like what a robot insect might leave behind

folded into itself against a tree.

 

In the car next to me

a mother in vain

tried to stop her son from looking.

 

Her hand grazed his cheek

as she reached behind her seat

to cover his curious little eyes.

 

I looked at him

and gave a weak smile

wondering about the trauma he might face later.

 

He looked at me blankly,

then titled his head back

and pressed his open nostrils to the glass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rievers

Bereavement is derived from ‘rievers’

those border bandits in Britain who terrorized and killed citizens

my grief continues to steal time

but who is more stealthy?

death or its afterthought

if death comes as a thief in the night

Then what is its wingman?

is grief the more charming criminal?

lingering, quiet

The companion to a life in limbo

Sneak-a- peek

Sneak-a-peek

The sun shows its face in hide and seek
Briefly, very briefly it shows its face
The laundry spread out to dry, groan on the lines as they cannot dry
The grasses sprinkled with dew long for the heat only the sun can bring
Sneak-a-peek

It’s Almost Time To Start

It’s almost time to start the marathon and I am about as ready as I’m ever going to be. Let’s make this a great marathon everybody.

Writing down the words

can be hard,

but

not saying them

is even harder.

 

success to all.

 

Debra

A Depressed Person Finally Showers-Hour One

That first night back, I almost didn’t want to bathe.

Cold tile bit into the backs of my thighs, my back,

supporting as gentle rain showered down, warm,

soothing sounds pounding down as it swirled down the drain.

Too tired to move. Too tired to think.

Numbly wrapped up in a grey fog that lifted only a little while

and only that warm water could wash it away, the flow mimicking,

only for a little while, your warmth, your voice,

until it too swirled down the drain, and I’m left cold, naked, alone.

Time to Write

I guess it is time to write

I stayed up way too late last night

I tossed and turned

My thoughts burned

So today I am sleepy

Don’t think I look too creepy

So, I guess I will write

And shake off last night

 

Here I Am . . . Again

Not sure I a made it. As it’s not working. Damn! Bad planning this year.

Haiku Prompt#1

Haiku

 

water splashes my face

ocean waves roll in from the storm

salty taste on my tongue

Hour 1: Drowning

Down,
Down we go
Struggling
Losing
Losing hope
Down,
Down we stay
Still
At peace
At peace with fate.
Down.
Down the hand
reaches
Taking hold
It won’t let go
Up,
Up we go
Towards life
With hope
Hope to endure.

London Night

the city at night

quiet and peaceful

the sirens blaring

let’s me know that

i am in my city.
the city of the jaded Thames

and the dome of

Wren’s mighty domed cathedral

the white tower where the

crowned jewels are guarded.

my city. My life. My home.