The Poetry Marathon

#Prompt 20 – 2023

Morning Shower

Opens the door
Eyes still closed dreading the day
I’m getting too old for this
Take the cat out the sink
Brush teeth
Take the cat out of the sink again
Wipe up the splatters of water from wayward paws
Undress
Take the cat out of the shower
Turn it on to heat up
Take cat out of the shower banish it behind a closed door
No deterrent
Door too easy to unlatch
Take cat out of the shower
Close glass door quickly to prevent an invasion
Concede defeat
Take a shower with the cat
Rinse shampoo out of my hair
And cat’s fur
Despite my best efforts … cat always beats me through the door
Makes a b-line for the bed and disappears under the duvet
Retrieves cat
Turns back covers to dry out during the day
Take cat off work clothes
Finds some more
Dry one
Brush my hair
Hunt the floor for bands and clips
Grab cat before it launches itself out the window
Makes a mental note to invest in a new locks
To trap cat
Out of my way
So I can get ready in peace
Promptly forget
Thus continuing to jump on same merry-go-round
Every flippin morning

Destination Unknown – Hour Twenty

Destination Unknown

I hopped in the car, destination unknown
I had no direction in view
I took off in the morning, for a break from the chaos
But where I was headed, no clue

Many choices before me – Air, land or sea
And whether north, south, east or west
The road guiding and deciding my choice
Figuring that the road always knows best

I changed course several times
As I witnessed great oceans, small hills and plateaus
Each stop, I saw the world at its prime
Kissed by the sun’s radiant glow

I knew not what I wanted
What I needed found me
I was grateful for this little whim
For I had uncovered much joy in the spree
That led me to hear nature’s hymn

 

Curse of the self employed #20

Monday morning, I wake
To the incessant complaining meows
Of the neighbour’s cat,
Giving voice to the fact
That I haven’t given her breakfast.
It may sound strange
But it’s become our ritual
For her to have another breakfast
While I have coffee.

I notice that pretty much everything hurts
As I peel away from the bed
And I sigh as I silently chastise myself
For working yet another weekend,
But I know in my soul
That I’ll undoubtedly do so again, and soon.

It’s the curse you see, of the self employed,
The ever present background fear
That they’ll never work again,
That forces us to say yes
To the all but impossible.
Yes, I’ll do this job even though
I’m fully booked.
Yes, I’ll work the weekend. Yes, yes, yes, the perennial yes man.

I shuffle down to the kitchen
Doing a rendition of a zombie
From the walking dead as I do.
I open the fridge,
Take the tupperware container
And tip the smelly tuna into a bowl.
The kettle goes on and in a few minutes
I’m sitting on the front step
Watching the cat, Puka, so called
Because she’s white as a ghost,
as she devours tuna steak,
And I think to myself that I work weekends
So I can afford to feed the neighbour’s cat
In the style to which she has become accustomed.
Then I console myself
That the coffee is good,
Hot and expensive.

After all,
If I’m going to work myself to death
There should be perks.
The phone rings and in seconds
I’ve already said ‘yes, I can’.

Can I Really Do This? Or Is It 2 Late?

I thought this Marathon was next week

So I wasn’t prepared for 2day

I was out of town taking care of

my sister recuperating from surgery

Can I really do this?

Or is it 2 late?

 

I came back to Houston Saturday

cuz one of my Monologues

was being produced this weekend

I didn’t get home from the theatre

Until  11:30

(the performance was great by the way)

Tired, sleepy

Can I really do this?

Or is it 2 late?

 

Then the internet and hotspot

weren’t working

And I couldn’t find my tablet

I was at my wits end

About to cry

Can I really do this?

Or is it 2 late?

 

The light bulb went off in my head

And at 1a  I called my SisterFriend 2 see if I could type on her couch

She said yes

And here I am

Can I really do this?

Or is it 2 late?

Imma try to do it until 8a 2C what I come up with

And then I’ll answer the questions

So here I go

See ya at 8

Hour 15

Woot gunna get caught up soon! I hope

 

Hour 15

 

I have always loved stories

So it was no surprise I entered fandom

A space about stories 

And the tales they create

It’s where I found my favorite plots

Those enemies to lovers

The only one bed

The pretend we’re dating

The we’ve been in love but they can’t love me

And I’ve noticed I’ve always loved love stories best

Roots in Ritual

Every Friday night at Shabbat services

I thank God for the freedom to practice

Judaism after myriad attempts to stop us.

True faith cannot be thwarted by hate.

Me

all the oxygen leaves the room
snuffs the flame
lose enough times, no longer play
shallow breaths
chest tightens

Hour 20

On Saturday mornings my son and I feed

over two hundred hot meals to neighbors in need

we plan and we prep and we count all the lunches

we are truly the ones blessed

 

 

 

Prompt 20

 

coffee

Every morning

At way too early (even for me)

Hour 20: The Treehouse

I remember it being huge

With a sloping roof

And enough space for ten people

Maybe more

 

Five feet off the ground

Twice if you climbed onto the roof

(An act of bravery seldom achieved)

The moss was slippery

So one must hang on branches

 

The walls were colored with chalk

And then with permanent marker

Names written

Jokes recorded

Pictures drawn

 

When we left

We wrote a letter

To take care of the treehouse

And visit it frequently

So it’s never alone

 

One day it will rot away

We all do, after a while

But with me

It was perfect and sturdy

Welcoming and warm

 

A bookend to my childhood

I live in a memory

Of brushing away the leaves

On the first day of sun

And sitting on the planks

And listening to the wind in the leaves