Prompt 19
It is so dark I can’t see anything but the halo of time from the microwave
Hour 14
I was going to use the prompt but then the poem I wrote didn’t make sense for it.
Hour 14
Social media is amazing at letting us connect
I’m able to see update on family I don’t see often
I can be part of their life states away
I can forget that they aren’t still just states away
That my friends list isn’t already
Becoming an obituary
That they weren’t one to post so it makes sense they aren’t
Fat Girl in a Pretty Dress (20)
She’s feeling self conscious in her new dress
ducking behind my figure as we meander
through the evening streets of Chattanooga
just as the streetlights begin to flicker on
it is this yellow thing, I don’t know the term
but her breasts pool out of the top
her cute belly stretches the center
and it makes her blue eyes-
behind clear frames
with stylized blood splatters on them-
even more maddening
we sit down for pizza at this worn brick place
next to an open concept venue
with a loud wedding reception
blasting the top 40 hits and slurred toasts
I’m practically drooling as she scans the menu
and the couple seated a few booths behind us
who she’s sure are watching and pointing
laughing at her
I turn and look at the boy
who can’t be more than 15
and when he catches my eye
I am appropriately stern
turning back I tell her she’s beautiful
and I say it stuttering and unable to look at her
because if I do for too long I might cry
because being here I’m sort of happy
and that would make things worse
we are keeping this as casual as possible
despite stopping ourselves
in the middle of complements
to stop something else from coming out
after pizza we return to her condo
the sky shot through with twinkling stars
her dogs asleep and tongues lolling
she slides her dress off slowly
stands in front of the sliding door to the balcony
looks at cars passing on the street below
and asks me if I mean it
when I say she’s beautiful
I say yes, forcing myself to look her in the eyes
when she turns with a face so expectant of hurt
and she asks me to say it again
to say it as many times as it takes
because she wants so badly to believe it.
PERMANENCE (hour xix)
Wherever I am
His splendor will be over me
That place will be home
*Inspired by a combination of the text and image prompt
Routine
Lately,
I sit down to write,
but cry instead.
Usually,
I let Roy out in the backyard
Before breakfast
and his early morning walk
Sometimes,
He bites me
and I say he’s only a puppy.
Almost always,
I sleep deeply
and wake refreshed.
Once in a while,
I like to stir things up
and take my glasses off.
As long as there are no caveats,
I expect thesw things to happen.
HR-7
One single swing
Going nowhere fast
Peaceful and contemplative
Just swinging everything away
What a beautiful sentiment
In The Wee First Hours-Hour Twenty
Steam slowly wafting,
honey swirling through deep red brew,
while the scent of cinnamon and cloves lingers.
Chai, splash of milk, touch of sweeness
that warms the hands, such a bliss
to sit upon a cool porch step and watch the skies
slowly melt from indigo to soft starshine peach,
lavender, gold lingering into periwinkle,
a long slow morning wrapped up in silence
and a good brew.
In the Fold (a Viator)
In the fold
of summertime
leaves crimson and gold
fall from their prime.
Time moves fast
in the fold,
with ages past
and stories told.
Winter’s cold
finds warming grace
in the fold
of arms embrace.
Smell leaves burning
as we grow old,
twisting and turning
in the fold.
Hour 20-Nonsense
This is gobbledygook.
Gobsmackingly,
God awful.
This is a helter-skelter poppycock
with mumbo jumbo on top.
This is nothing but rigamarole,
drivel, prattle.
Really. Its gibberish.
This is foolish, rubbish, and hogwash.
It is nonsense, baloney,
balderdash.
It is downright absurd.
What do you think you’re doing here?
This is boring babble, tripped-out tripe.
Surely you know this right?
This is flapddoodle!
Swim #2023poetrymarathon #prompthour20
I swim.
At least thrice a week
sink myself into the pool
and forget why
I exist.
I swim
into and against
the flow. I dive so deep
your hand has to find mine
and pluck me out.